To You, With Love

Chapter Thirteen: Caught In The Rain

So, there I was, in that dreaded Marlies jersey. I hate it. I came to Canada to play in the NHL, not for some team that no one cares about.

Sure, I'm still young, but I've been back and fourth constantly. 

I've actually had thoughts of going home.

"Welcome back, Jiri," my new coach smiled, "How are you liking Toronto?"

"Do you want my honest answer?" I retorted under my breath.

"Pardon?" He asked.

"I really like it here." I lied.

"Glad to hear it, Jiri," he beamed, "Get out there and show me what you got."

I nodded my head once and headed off to the locker room. Everyone was silent once I walked into the room. All the side conversations had come to a halt. 

It was like I was some sort of heartthrob celebrity and they were all crazy fan girls.

"He's back." One guy whispered as I walked by.

"I thought he was playing with the Leafs." Another added.

I just passed by everyone with my head hung until I finally got to my stall. Seeing my nameplate bellow that Marlies logo on the wall made my heart drop.

I'm not supposed to be here.

As I began to get into my gear, I could just feel all eyes on me. It was like they'd never seen another man before. I wanted to say something, but decided it would only add unnecessary fuel to an already huge fire.

"What happened, Jiri?" James whispered as he approached me.

"I was sent back to the AHL," I growled, "What does it look like?"

"I don't want to be here!"

James was taken back by the way I had just spoken to him, but I didn't care. I wasn't in the mood.

Finding out my soulmate was cheating on me, then being sent down to the AHL. 

Could it get any worse?

I sighed and scratched the back of my neck.

"I'm sorry, James," I frowned, "I'm just so frustrated and upset."

"I know where you're coming from, Jiri," he said quietly, "I was really hoping to just skip all the AHL B.S. and play for the Leafs, but you have to remember we're only 18-years-old. We have nothing but time to improve. If you look at the team now, they're all professionals and can out play us in a heartbeat."

I knew he was right, but I didn't want to accept it.

"I know," I sighed, "I've just had thoughts of going back home--"

"Don't you dare!" He scolded. "You've worked too hard and too long to give up on your dream. You were drafted in the NHL for crying out loud! Don't give that up, bro."

Again, he was right. I can't just abandon this. I've worked my whole life to make it this far, and I was actually considering throwing it all away because I was too young? I'm in North America, goddammit. My dream has finally become a reality

"Thanks, James," I nodded, "It means a lot."

---

Misty's POV

I hated lying to my dad. 

He was such an honest, down-to-earth kind of guy. But it's too late to tell him I've been faking sick.

"How are you feeling now?" My father asked as he slowly made his way into my room.

"Like crap." I answered simply, faking a raspy voice.

"Would you like me to make you some soup?" He offered, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"If you don't mind," I smiled weakly, "Thanks, dad."

I was playing him like a fiddle. And it was too late to back out now. I needed to continue to convince him of how sick I really was.

Ten minutes later, he came back into the room with a steaming bowl of chicken soup. 

As he handed the bowl over to me, I sat up and placed it on my lap. 

I could feel the warm steam creep up to my face and into my nose.

"It smells great," I said with a sniffle, "Thanks."

"I just want you to get better," he smiled.

But suddenly, that smile faded quickly.

"I'm not sure if this is a good time, but," he started, "Can I ask you something?"

I could hear my heartbeat out of my chest, and my hands grew clammy.

Although, that could've just been from the hot bowl of soup I was holding.

What if he knows?

"Uh, yeah, sure." I hesitated.

He took in a deep breath, then quickly exhaled. My toes were tingling and my face burned. 

Why won't he just tell me already?

"Did you and Jiri really go out?"

I knew it! I knew Jiri would tell. But the question is, how much does he actually know?

"Yes, dad," I sighed, trying to hold back the tears, "We were a couple."

"Did you pressure him into admitting it? Threaten to take away his job if he didn't?"

I looked down at my hands. There was no way I could stare him in the eyes now.

"I would never do something like that." He replied softly. "But why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because you told me I wasn't allowed to go out with the draftees!" I shouted back.

"Misty!" He yelled.

"I just asked a question."

"And I gave you an answer!" I retorted, crossing my arms across my chest.

Quickly, my dad stood up, and without a word, left my room and slammed the door behind him.

The way I talked to him was despicable, and I could only imagine what my mother would have said if she was here...

Shut your mouth.

Or

He's your father, show some respect.

But thankfully, she wasn't here. And she never will be again...