Caufield's girl

Chapter Five

After three hours that felt more like an eternity, the match finally came to an end. The Habs won, and I must admit it wasn't the worst experience with Maddie by my side, but I still couldn't get my mind off Cole. Now I can add him to the long list of people who make my blood boil; however, I don't think he'll ever beat my mother in this matter. Anyhow, I was glad we could finally leave and never come back again to this place.

Mainly because of Cole, and secondly because of the fact that hockey brings so many painful memories with my dad. I just couldn't stop a few tears from escaping from my eyes during the game, thinking about what it would've been like if he were here with me tonight, enjoying this match. Unfortunately, this was just a pointless hypothesis, so I would rather let a few beers numb the pain, as always.

Throughout the whole journey back to our dorm, I wasn't really in the mood to talk, so I felt quite relieved by the call Maddie was having with Mark. After they finished talking, we were already outside the campus. She thanked me for bearing with her, which was indeed a noble gesture from me considering the inconventional circumstances. „Thanks for going with me, Soph. I...I know it wasn't easy for you. And I'm really sorry if I was acting like an idiot earlier. I was just too excited; I just want the best for you, don't you know?"

I give her my forgiving look and a half-smile before I hug her lightly. „Yeah, I know. It's all good, but I don't wanna hear about that airhead ever again." I partially laugh. „Okay, whatever you say." She smiles, appreciatively of my forgiveness, as we walk into our dorm. We hit the showers, do our skincare routine, and pour ourselves some rosé before we decide to call it a night.

After tonight, I'm unable to fall asleep at first because my thoughts are haunting me again. But honestly, right now, I want to draw a thick line behind this evening and erase my memory. And I swear, I don't have any greater desire than to never see Cole Caufield again. If I only knew what's about to come.

                      ***

I spent the rest of the weekend in a calm spirit, surprisingly. And apart from working on my assignments for my classes, I've had a chance to write some poetry and lyrics. I've just really needed to unwind and sort out my thoughts after such an unusually eventful week. Today is Monday, which means that I have to get up and attend the lecture on broadcast journalism. If only I knew it would include sports as well.

I arrive at the lecture just on time, and I find myself a spare seat. Everything seemed to be going well; I even found the topics discussed somewhat engaging, until some kind of project was mentioned and my instincts were telling me I won't like it. And my gut was right once again. My professor decided that, on behalf of one of the topics discussed, journalism in sport, each of the students will have to do a short internship in some kind of sports organization here in Montreal to get credits for this lecture.

The sports include institutions for baseball, tennis, figure skating, and hockey, of course. And according to the lots that will be drawn by us, we will be assigned to the exact institution. I only manage to shift at the words of my professor, who is already anticipating the worst. And as soon as I draw that piece of paper and read it for the first time, I feel like I'm about to faint. „You have to be fucking kidding me." I mumble to myself inaudibly as I slowly walk back to my seat. „Bell Centre. Fuck!" I curse once again furiously.

„I'm sorry, Mrs. Hooks, but is there any chance of swapping with someone?" I raise my hand in belief that I can still can chicken out of this inconvenience, but my greatest prayers aren't heard. „I'm afraid there's nothing I can do about it in order for this to be fair. I'm sorry, Miss Spencer." She only smiles politely, and I have no other option but to nod in understanding and accepting my fate. I sigh and shake my head as I'm already forced to listen to all the instructions Mrs. Hooks starts to give us about the internship.

I spent the rest of the lecture taking deep breaths, trying to calm down, and everything that had been sad was only hanging in the air, never reaching my perception. The only thing I remember is that it's going to take place next week. And supposedly this week, we'll do some preparation at the lectures, and each and every one of us is going to receive detailed emails related to our specific tasks.

Just excellent, when I swore that I never wanna see him again, not even in my dreams or nightmares. I was just wishing that he disappears into thin air or that he gets abducted by aliens by then. Fuck my life. But I guess I don't have any other choice. I suppose I have to handle it professionally for the sake of my future career and academic evaluation. I just have to remind myself that it's not necessarily hockey that irritates me, but only one player. I have to get through this, there is no other way.

                     ***

It's Tuesday. It's the day I've been afraid of ever since I became aware of the fact that I'm gonna be doing interviews with the players at tonight's game, the game after that, and one more. Just spectacular, as everthing in my life. I couldn't even sleep properly tonight. I was preying that Cole Caufield gets traded by morning to the farthest hockey team that exists, so I'm still holding onto that hope honestly.

I've also lost my appetite, so I don't even have a proper breakfast. I just make myself a cup of peppermint tea to calm my nerves a little bit, and I spend the rest of my day preparing questions and revising all of the required knowledge for tonight's interviews. Today, Maddie isn't even in the dorm with me. She spent the night at Mark's, and she has a busy day full of lectures, so we haven't even seen each other since yesterday.

But she is trying to compensate for her absence and moral support by sending frequent text messages. Honestly, I think I'm quite glad I have this space to myself, and I'm also thankful that she is busy tonight, so she can't even come to the Bell Centre with me. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate her support, but sometimes she manages to make me even more nervous and piss me off, so the constant texts seem to be simply enough for me.

The time passes, and it's already two hours before the game. So it's my last chance to get ready, unless I want to be running late. I put on my beige suit combined with a white blouse, white sneakers, and my favorite golden necklace I got from my dad on my 16th birthday. My make-up is quite natural today. I only put on a bit of concealer, mascara, and light brown eyeshadow that matches my suit. Then I prepare my purse and put in iPad with all the questions and materials required for the role of reporter. At last, I gather all of my strength and courage in order to survive this evening. I lock the door, and I'm already on my way to the Bell Centre, full of crazy fans and dishonest hockey players. Wish me luck and pray for me, I'll need it.