twisted // tyler seguin

fifty five

Fall came. It came crashing in, wiping away the familiarity of the green leaves and sizzling temperatures. It came, washing away the static numb feeling out of our bored heads, giving us something to look forward to. But most of all, it came with hockey.

And with that came Tyler's absence. I never mentioned the cheap thong I found in his luggage months ago. It laid in my drawer underneath of my other underwear, stuffed towards the back. There was no use in bringing it up anyways since it was too far gone to even be mentioned. The result would be typical anyways, Tyler reaching to new lengths before he managed to find a way to play the victim card. Instead, I watched him.

I watched his actions towards me, towards others, towards everything. He began to take me out more recently, and dare I say go back to his 'spoiling' ways when it came to me. Whenever he left camp, he would stop by some fast food chain and get me something- whether it was a burger from Wendy's or a frapp from Starbucks. I wouldn't have to ask him to get it for me, he would simply just come home, announce what he so gladly bought for me, sit it on the counter, rub my head, kiss my temple, and head upstairs to shower. I would sit on the couch after school, glasses hanging off of my nose, eyes glued to my laptop screen, and jump when the dogs barked to notify me he was coming in.

Classes weren't necessarily that bad this second time around, and it was probably because I actually was beginning to do things that I liked. I picked a lot of classes on where pop culture and the arts merge, such as film and photography. My major of course was still writing. There was one person though, who caught my eye.

There was a guy in my film class who sparked my interest. He had this really weird aura that made me find ways to fabricate an excuse to look at him a bit longer. His long, just about shoulder length blonde hair framed his face perfectly, and he had complimentary tattoos covering his arms, but nothing to extreme like Tyler's sleeves. He only had one sleeve and it was colored in, unlike the usual black ink I was used to. His roots showed growth of chestnut hair, which would go to match the small beard he had forming on his sharply formed face. He seemed a little bit older for his age, and it was probably due to the height and big frame he had going for him.

He introduced himself as Steve on the second day. He would've done it the first day, if he hadn't "overslept". It seemed like he was one of those guys. He came into class a couple of minutes early and took the empty chair next to me, making a bit of a ruckus. I was scrolling on my phone before he caught my eye for the first time, blonde hair, circle lens sunglasses and all. He had to have been hungover. Why else would someone come into class so noisy with sunglasses on in the fall?

"Hey, um, did I miss anything important yesterday?" He said, his voice rigged with a dingy monotonic ring that resonated throughout the depth of my ears. I put my phone down as I watched him scramble through his back, sunglasses still on his face.

"No not really, it was just introductions and stuff, overview of the syllabus, usual first day of school type stuff." I sighed out. A pack of cigarettes fell out of his bag and hit the floor with a small thud. Newports. Great. Explains the weird voice. I reached for them out of reflex to help him pick them up, but he was quicker than me, his hand rubbing against mine as his huge hands gripped the pack.

"You got some soft skin there, Hannah." He grinned out. A peek of perfectly aligned teeth were revealed as he chuckled. I raised my eyebrows, searching for his level of humor.

"Hannah?" I asked. His sunglasses turned to face me, which sent a weird vibration throughout my body.

"You look like one. You go by anything different?"

"Savannah." I said. "My name is Savannah. But you can call me Sav."

His grin appeared again, as he took his sunglasses off, revealing his eyes that went hand in hand with his unique features. "My name's Steve. Can't have a nickname for a name like that, now can you?"

I laughed out loud this time, hopefully sending him a sign that I was expecting this to blossom into a friendship. "I guess you can't."

And so it did- we became close friends. He took me out to eat to a nice restaurant after class, and staged what seemed like a suffocating interview of my life, completely disregarding the details of his. I ended up spilling the beans about everything- my concussion, Tyler, the trip to Jersey, him cheating, my sister, etc. And he listened. I'd be damned when I say that this man actually listened to each and every one of my complaints. And for the first time in a while, it felt like it registered, and I wasn't just watching it float in one ear out of the other.

When I was done speaking my autobiography as an early twenties college student, he gave me his opinion on everything. On Tyler- that I should tell him how I really felt, and not beat around the bush. That you can take the man out of the bachelor lifestyle, but you can't take the bachelor out of him. On my sister- that my time would come, and that I'd should only compare myself to the person I was yesterday, and not my own flesh and blood sister, who's wedding was slowly, but surely approaching.

It was amazing, meeting a personality like him. Steve told me he was from New York, which could possibly explain his rich psyche. He was into music, which was something I put together when I first laid eyes on his outfit. The Black Keys, Led Zeppelin, The Fratellis, Arctic Monkeys, AC/DC- you named it, he listened to it. It was amazing, no, he was amazing. After spending what seemed like three hours at the same table eating plate after plate, we left and he took me home.

He wasn't a huge hockey fan, and him coming from New York explained why. No one really cared about the Rangers, or Islanders, or whoever he was rooting for, so when I brought up Tyler, he called me a "gold digger". I guess his assumptions were right when he pulled up to Tyler's house. I hugged him goodbye, and said I would see him tomorrow. He responded simply with his cunning smile and a wink before driving off.

And then it was time to switch mindsets as I changed atmospheres. Tyler had to be home since it was already 6ish, and practice usually ended at around 2pm. My assumptions proved true when I saw him laying on the couch lodged in between Cash and Marshall. Mentally, I prepared myself for the horrendous attitude he was probably about to give me since I didn't let him know where I was, who I was with, and what I was doing.

As soon as I closed the door shut, he whipped his head towards me. "Where the hell have you been? Last time I checked, classes didn't run this late." I rolled my eyes, sighing. Yeah, it was great to see you too Tyler. School? Yeah, it was cool. How was practice? Good? That's good. I gave that conversation up a long time ago.

"I was out with a guy I met today, he took me out to eat." I slammed my bag on the counter and began unpacking my books. "Sorry I forgot to tell you."

Tyler scoffed and stood up, which obviously wasn't a good sign. "Who's this 'guy' you met? Does he know you have a boyfriend?" He shuffled over, leaning his arms on the counter.

"Yes Tyler, as a matter of fact, he does." My voice was heavy with sarcasm by this point. "I also made sure to let him know that you're one of the best hockey players in the world, because who wouldn't want that, right?"

Tyler rolled his eyes and stood up straight. "It's good to see you too, Sav." He walked towards me and gripped the side of my head to place a kiss on my temple. How uncanny.

Whether we were both tense by our changes in our schedules, or Tyler needed to release a load that's been in him for too long, it was pissing me off constantly. My sister was bugging me about her shitty wedding that I secretly didn't want to attend, Tyler would give me attitude every time I said I hung out with Steve, work was piling on top of work- it got to the point where I would say to myself that I wanted to go home as I laid in bed, staring at the high ceiling. What was home? Tyler's house? My parent's house? Steve's apartment that I constantly visited day after day? I was searching for my leveled ground, the ground where I knew there was stability. But then again, when was the last time I actually felt stability?