Bracing the Blue Line (6 page)

There's so much I want to say, but I don't. Instead, I unthinkingly yet slowly lean down to kiss her forehead, and murmur, “Night, Maddie.” Standing upright and rigid because of my gesture, I quickly get away from her and her wide, green-brown eyes without waiting for a response.

The entire way back to the house, I mull her words over and over in my head. I try to forget that I kissed her forehead, something I used to do all the time. We can't go back there. Nothing has changed. Dave is still clueless, and I'm still not willing to tell him. I just need to stay away from her.

I change and fall into bed, resting my arm behind my head while staring up at my ceiling. Everything she said repeats on a loop in my head. The only reason I'm thinking about this as much as I am is because I'm attracted to her, even more so than before. How Maddie does or doesn't feel or how I feel is irrelevant now. All that matters is keeping my focus on school and hockey. I don't need to hurt her all over again.

WE SKATE ONTO the ice for warm ups, and I find a spot to stretch before taking my place in front of the net. I notice a girl with shoulder length, black hair taking pictures of us. Even from a distance, I can tell that her camera isn’t just a digital camera. It’s bigger and covers most of her face. She stands out amongst the crowd that has gathered for our game.

“Hey, Neil.” I catch the attention of our captain. “Why is a girl taking pictures of us?”

He looks over to the girl. “I don’t know. Go ask and then get your ass in the net.” He chuckles before leaving me to continue warming up.

I'm glad he's in a good mood again today. My curiosity is piqued, so I skate over. I go behind the net as she snaps away at the players in the opposite direction.

“Hey,” I say. She lowers the camera, and I’m face-to-face with the most beautiful bright, blue eyes. “What are you doing?”

Her pale cheeks flush, as if I caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to do. “Oh, I’m a, uh, sports photographer for the school paper, and they want more hockey coverage this season, so here I am.” She looks uncomfortable and holds up a badge that confirms what she says, along with her name.

Lucy Kennedy.

“Grant!” I turn my head at the sound of Bo’s voice. “We don’t have all fucking day!”

I face the girl, smile, and say, “Nice to meet you, Lucy.”

Finally, I take my spot as the team practices shooting, and then warm ups are over. Our coach gives us his speech, and it’s game time. Being the goalie, a lot weighs on my shoulders. I take my spot seriously. Focus is required to ensure that very few, if any, goals are allowed past me. If I’m having a bad day, my team has to work extra hard, and I do my best to not have any bad days.

This team is aggressive and pucks fly at me throughout the game. However, today is a one where I’m having a really good day. I get my first shutout of the season. The guys come up and congratulate me, bumping their helmet with mine. We head to the locker room for Coach to talk to us. Afterwards, I see Lucy the photographer standing just outside the door with her camera hanging from her neck, looking nervous. What is she doing now?

I’m naked above the waist, having already taken my pads off, but I go to her. When I open the door, she looks startled.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Our usual reporter left early tonight, and he sent some questions for me to ask some of the players.” She rocks on her heels, and I wonder if she’s a nervous person in general, or if I’m making her nervous.

“Who do you need to talk to? I can go ahead and get them out here, so you can get done quicker.”

She pulls out a folded piece of paper from her pocket, reading the names off to me. “I’m supposed to talk to Neil, Bo, Vincent, and you.”

“Okay, I’ll get them.” I’m about to open the door, but she stops me.

“Wait! Here are all the questions.” She shoves the paper at me. Her voice is shaky. “Could you take this and ask them for me?” Must be nervous in general. “I only take pictures.” Lucy holds up her camera for evidence.

“I’m only a goalie,” I tell her before I can stop myself. Her eyes beg me. “Fine. Do you have a pen?” I want to tell her that next time the school reporter should show up, so I don’t have to do this shit, but I don’t. She looks uncomfortable as it is. After I get a pen from her, I return to the locker room and call out for the guys.

“We’re getting famous, boys. The school newspaper is expanding their coverage on hockey, and it starts with you answering some questions.”

“You’re a reporter now, Grant?” Neil asks, getting laughs from the other two.

“Shut the hell up.” I go through the questions, scribbling down everyone’s answers, and then answer the questions for myself. When I go back into the hallway, Lucy is leaning against the wall, looking down at her camera. “Here you go.”

She jumps, but takes the paper from my hand. “Thanks so much.”

And then she walks away, disappearing around the corner. She’s pretty, but way too jumpy.

“LOOK AT THIS shit. You made the front page, Grant.” Neil throws the school paper on the table. It slides across, nearly crashing into my bowl of cereal, and I pick it up.

On the front is a damn good close-up of me from the shoulders up from our game, but it was from Thursday night. I must have missed her before. Somehow, that girl snapped a picture like that and managed to get a decent shot of my face. I must have been facing her direction when she took it. I scan the article, my eyes zooming in on another picture of me making a save. There are a couple more, smaller images from the game as well as a link to where you can see all the photos taken on the school website.

“Damn. She’s good,” I say with a bite.

“Yeah, she managed to make you look presentable.” He laughs. “Who is she anyway?”

I read the end of the caption, even though I already know. “Photographs taken by Lucy Kennedy.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” he says as he rummages through the pantry.

“This coming from the guy who doesn’t ask what their name is before sleeping with them.”

“Hey, your captain has needs.” Neil laughs.

“Let me see,” Winston says, sitting across from me. I hand him the paper.

“You said Kennedy?” Neil adds, seeming to think about something.

“Yeah, why?”

He turns to face me with a box of poptarts in one hand. “I wonder if she’s the little sister of the Kennedy brothers. You know them, right?”

Everyone on campus knows that trio. Patrick is a junior, Jonathon is a senior, and Corey graduated last spring. They are all football players and some of the best in the college league, although Corey was injured in his last season and can no longer play. I vaguely remember hearing that they are crazily protective of their baby sister. I nod in acknowledgement to Neil.

“That may be who she is then.”

“Who who is?” Bo asks, walking into the kitchen.

“Lucy Kennedy, the girl taking pictures yesterday. We think she’s the sister of the Kennedy brothers,” Neil informs him, going back to find something else.

“The football players? I wouldn’t know. I don’t like football.” Bo shrugs.

“Well, I need to study and do homework, so I'll catch you guys later.”

Even though, Neil and Bo leave the house on Sundays, I still go to the library to study. I want A’s, and that's where I can focus the best. Plus, Mom will kick my ass if my grades slip. Dad cares about hockey. Mom cares about my education. Well, they care about both, really. It’s just Mom gets on me about school, and Dad hounds me about hockey. So instead of partying it up all night, I’ll spend most of my time at the library.

I wrap up things here and head to the gym. Exercising is one of my favorite things to do. I love the burn, the sweat, and the satisfied feeling I get after a grueling workout. I even love the semi-cold shower I take afterwards to cool my body down. Sometimes, I think there's nothing better in this world than that. My free time is basically divided between being on the ice, in the gym, or in the library. I end up being there for a couple hours, finishing in time to shower and go grab a late lunch.

After that, I walk across campus to the library. The guys would murder me if they found out exactly how much I like to read. People will assume I’m working on something for school if I’m in the library. Plus, it minimizes the distractions. I need silence to read and study. The library is perfect for both. I find a table in a corner, knowing the foot traffic will be minimal there and take a seat.

My backpack sits unopened next to my chair, slouching against a leg of the table, as I crack open my historical fiction book. Those are my favorite with an occasional memoir. I lean back in my chair, rest the book in my lap and against the table, and begin to read. Roughly two hours pass while I’m lost in a WWII battle when I hear the slightest clicking sound. My eyes flick up, searching the area for the source of the distracting noise. There’s no one in front of me and nothing but rows of books.

I hear it again and turn my head to the left, looking down the aisle. My eyes land on the only possible source. A camera lens is focused on me, a pale and slender finger on a silver button, pressing down. Familiar black hair falls over her shoulders as she crouches. If she was next to me, she would be eye level with the table.

What the hell? Why is she taking pictures of me? As if she now realizes I’m looking, the camera slowly lowers to reveal fiery red cheeks and large, surprised to be caught, blue eyes. Lucy stands upright with all the confidence she can muster and walks over. My mouth stays shut as she takes a seat next to me and fidgets. I watch her, wary because she was sneaking pictures of me for no good reason.

“I’m sorry,” she says in a library appropriate voice. The camera sits in her lap, the black strap hanging from her neck to hold it in place. Although, it’s pointless because her hands never leave the damn thing. “You were perfect for a shot, and I couldn’t resist. I take pictures of people all the time, but they never really notice. Do you want to see it?”

The pale blue shirt she’s wearing makes her eyes look even brighter. Lucy glances down at the camera, pressing buttons. I still don’t say anything because I don’t know what to make of her taking pictures of me. Is she some crazy chick or something? But then she holds up the camera, turning it to me so I can see the image on the screen.

There I am, slouched in my seat, one hand at the top of the spine. She caught me biting my nail, something I didn’t even realize I was doing. Even though it’s a side shot, you can tell that I’m focused on the book.

“I can delete them if you want,” she adds, bringing the camera back to her lap.

“Them?” I question, finally speaking. “There’s more than one?”

Lucy looks guilty as a blush flashes on her cheeks again. She presses another button and shows another photo of me, but this time, I’m looking at her. It was when I turned to find out what was making the subtle noise. Her thumb presses again, and there’s another of when I lifted my head.

“How long were you there?” I ask.

“Not long. I think there’s only two more shots, but those are from over there.” She lifts her hand and points to where I first looked. “I moved to try a different angle. I was going to tell you afterwards, though,” she rushes to explain. “If I had interrupted you, then the shot would have been messed up. People change if they know they are having their picture taken. I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“It’s okay, I think.” I frown, caught off guard that I was her subject today. “Do you always carry that around?” I glance at the camera.

“Of course,” she answers like I should already know this. “I’m a photography major. I love taking pictures, so of course I have it with me all the time.”

Right. “Well, you’re good. I saw the pictures from the game in the paper this morning. They were amazing.”

Lucy smiles wide at the compliment, bringing attention to ruby lips and white teeth. “I think I was lucky with those. I’m more accustomed to baseball and football, so I was worried to move into a new sport.”

“Looked good to me.” Since she brought up football, I add, “Are you related to the Kennedy boys on the football team?”