Page 59 of If Only You Knew

She continues, “I cannot believe the arrogance that radiates off this dick of a parent. So what if he’s some big-time hockey player? Or shall I say was. Does he not understand sports do not factor in how the children are seen in class? I love all my students and I work very hard to ensure they are well cared for when they’re in the classroom with me. He is nitpicking everything I do. Plus, this is elementary school, for fuck’s sake. This isn’t Harvard. Actually, I doubt the Harvard professors deal with this type of arrogance on a daily basis.”

“Geez, Ellie, I hope that’s not the vocabulary you bring to the classroom, or I might have to side with the guy,” Shane says, and Ellie shoots daggers across the table.

I can tell she’s contemplating throwing her utensils across the table, and I put my hand up to try and calm her down.

“Shane doesn’t get girl code yet,” I respond.

I direct my gaze to Shane, “You just nod and agree and simply say, ‘what a dick,’ where you can. No judgment at this table. Read the room, sweetie.”

I wink at him, and he just looks at me, like I’m crazy to appease Ellie’s complaints. But he goes back to the menu, probably feeling like understanding women is not something he is going to try and decode at the moment.

I turn my full attention to Ellie and hand her my water. She probably needs something stronger, but I don't have much else to offer until the server returns.

“What happened?”

“Great question. Xander Christianson happened!”

Right then, Shane drops his phone, looking at Ellie like she’s got three heads.

“What?” my best friend asks my boyfriend.

“Your student’s father istheXander Christianson? Does Career Day happen at your school? I would love to meet him,” he says and then starts looking around the restaurant, for what I assume is the server.

Ellie’s mouth hangs open as if she’s surprised Shane is fanboying over who she considers to be the biggest prick she’s ever interacted with, and I doubt she’s talking about his hockey stick.

“You know what, Shane, I was just feeling like we could go back to the friends we were, but now you’re out of the circle of trust.”

She grabs a piece of bread from the complimentary basket sitting on the table and makes a huge show of taking a large bite. She squints her eyes, chewing on her bread and using her free hand to point into her eyes and then directing those same two fingers back toward Shane, as if telling him she’s watching him.

Shane’s head falls back, and he laughs, loud, and I can see Ellie’s usually composed persona crumble a bit. She is definitely wound tight, poor thing. She’s usually incredibly calm, but something about this guy is really getting under her skin. Gone is that happy-go-lucky friend of mine.

“Have you met him in person yet?” I ask, grabbing a piece of bread myself.

She’s about to answer when the server arrives. We put our order in, and Ellie continues on as if we never got interrupted. My friend is still one to talk a mile a minute.

“That’s the thing. The guy is constantly emailing me to intervene in some way, telling me how to do my job better. But does he come onto campus to talk to me? Of course not! When school started, my student’s aunt came to the orientation and Back-to-School Night, explaining that her brother, said douchebag, was out of town for work. He’s like those online trolls, constantly bothering me, but not coming out from behind the comfort of his computer to show his face. I bet he looks like a troll too. If he was a hockey player, doesn’t that mean he has missing teeth and all?”

She’s attempting to calm her nerves by breathing slowly through her nose and out through her mouth.

Shane chimes in, “Umm, it depends if you think this is what a troll would look like.”

He points his phone in her direction, and I immediately sense a shift in her. She pulls the phone out of Shane’s hands and inspects the photo.

“What is it, Ellie?” I ask.

She’s not paying any attention to her surroundings, while she zooms into the photo to inspect it further.

“I’ve gotta go!” she says, tossing Shane his phone back, and quickly getting up and putting on her jacket and beanie to beat this winter weather we’ve got in New York right now.

“What do you mean? We just ordered,” I say, protesting the fact that I was looking forward to this time together.

“I know, but I just realized I forgot to do something, and I have to take care of it before tonight. I’m so sorry, Becca. I promise to make it up to you. Here’s some money for my food,” she drops a twenty on the table, “and you can keep the meal for yourself.”

She blows kisses toward me as she’s already rushing out of the restaurant. I look over at Shane and he just shrugs. I grab his phone, which Ellie tossed on the table, and inspect the photo. It’s then I see a familiar face.

I guess he used to be a famous hockey player, but he seems like someone I have seen before, yet I still can’t place where. I let it go, hoping it comes to me later. I’ve never been a hockey fan, but maybe I’ve seen him on ESPN while Shane has watched the sports highlights.

After lunch, Shane and I walk a little, window shopping, while I’m trying not to freeze to death. Once my teeth begin chattering to the point of no return, Shane calls it a day, and we grab a cab to my place.

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