Page 51 of The Pucking Grump

“Sorry,” Nelson, the goalie, mutters as he starts to haul his gear out of his locker. “Forgot you’d probably want your love story summarized in a song.”

Another titter runs through the room, and I resist the urge to crack my fist against the nearest wall. Pushing past the closest person, I make my way to my locker.

“When’s the album coming?” one of them hollers. Another wave of laughter.

Keep your head down, I order myself, knowing I’m seconds from exploding. Teasing is a normal routine among the Philly Titans. Hell, I joined the boys in torturing Alex when he announced he was quitting the team to get married. And he had taken it all with a good-natured spirit.

But then, Alex would find it easy to let the taunts wash over him. He was in love with the woman he was being teased about.

I, on the other hand . . .

“You know, she’s got a show tonight at the Filmore.”

“We could get tickets. She’ll be singing about their love, and since White isn’t going to tell us a damn thing about how they met . . .”

“We know how, Luke, don’t be dumb. Remember that interview? What I really want to figure out is how Blake got over his disdain for Strummer. He was always going on and on about how he couldn’t stand her.”

“Well, we know how that could have happened . . .”

My shoulders are aching with tension. I bury my head in my locker as heat spreads to my face, reminding myself that they’re just bantering. I knew what I was getting myself into, and I did it anyway.

Apart from the start of the preseason training, my sacrifice has been worth it. It has been three weeks since Faye’s interview, and a lot has changed since then. Her father has completely relinquished control over her career and finances, and she’s America’s sweetheart again. My jackass teammates are also right about one thing—she’s giving a show tonight, her first since she ran from the wedding.

The changes in her life affected the atmosphere back at the cabin. We are no longer suspended from the world, and Faye is no longer the runaway bride who depended on me for sustenance. She is back to being Faye Strummer, an international popstar.

So, it was a relief when training began, and I had to leave the cabin to return to the city. Faye went back to Brooklyn that same day and started to organize her move to Philly.

We haven’t spoken since then. And I cannot pretend that’s not one of the reasons for the rage boiling inside me.

“White’s so tight-lipped today. Any other day, he’d be going on about Faye and her?—”

“Alright, lay off him.” I hear Ken’s voice cut through the banter like piss through snow. “This is our first practice of the season, and the last thing we should be doing is talking about Blake’s romantic life.” He sounds as amused as the rest of them, but I force myself to hold on to a tiny hint of gratitude. At least he’s not on my case.

But five minutes later, the jabs return. The boys keep taunting me, all through a mediocre practice that seems to last forever. Hours later, I storm back into the dressing room, sweaty and cold and furious all at once. Luke comes up behind me as I start to strip off my hockey gear.

“So, you going to the show or what? Think you could get us free tickets? They’re all sold out.”

My fingers fold into fists. “Shut the fuck up.”

The locker room goes quiet. I’m aware of the fact that everyone is staring at us.

Luke looks partly amused and partly offended. “Hey, no need to get violent. We’re just playing.”

“Well, I’m fucking sick of it. Shut the hell up, or I?—”

I feel the firm pressure of Ken’s hand on my shoulder. “Maybe we should talk outside, you know? Why don’t you finish getting dressed?”

I change into a pair of sweatpants. The boys watch us silently as we leave and head for the car park. As the seconds tick by between us, I go from feeling righteous indignation to defiance, then I feel downright stupid.

“Thanks,” I mutter to Ken. I know he could have done more to help me, but I appreciate him for pulling me out of there before I did something that would blow the cover on my “relationship” with Faye.

Ken says nothing for a few more minutes, until we’re at the very edge of the parking lot. Then he turns to me. “Something you want to talk to me about?”

I stare at him. Ken’s the only friend I’ve got who’s still single—at least publicly. Lucky bastard.

“I’ve got nothing.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Come on, Blakey. First, you skip out on all our hangouts and say you’re having a better time holed up in that cabin of yours. Then you call me and ask me how to get back in the good graces of a girl you supposedly care nothing for. And now, you’re in the news because you’re somehow dating Faye Strummer. How the fuck does that happen without any of us knowing?”

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