Off Ice.

Chapter Eleven.

Avery

Even being with my closest friends, I feel hollow.

There are moments when I forget, but that's all they are; moments. I'll laugh at a joke or get swept up in something but then the next second, the feeling is gone. I try to get it back, but it just feels like I'm chasing a ghost.

I don't think I've ever experienced this before. I haven't experienced this feeling. Even when everything went down with my dad, I still was able to find joy in things.

I don't think I'm a lost cause - I don't think I'll never feel anything again. I just, I don't know. I'm finding it hard to find the pleasure in life right now, I guess. I can't when I know that even when I'm the happiest, something or someone will change. I don't want to get attached.

Tonight was the most normal I've felt in a long time though. Longer than the couple weeks since Theo and the week or so that I felt off. I missed being at games, but more specifically Finn's. Seeing him on the ice in his Sharks jersey and warming up with Jack filled my chest with warmth. It reminded me of some of my best memories. It reminded me that this was my favorite thing to do at one point. It used to be my normal life, now it's a luxury.

And sitting with Grace the whole time really was the cherry on top. We made the same comments we used too and were cheering them on, even though they are on different teams.

I wasn't going to wear a Sharks shirt here, but when I was getting dressed I saw one that I had from years ago sitting all the way back in my draw. I haven't worn it in God knows how long, but I never got rid of it. I'd just pick it up and wash it with some of my clothes every now and then and put it back.

Finn's whole face lit up when he saw me wearing it. He looked so happy, so free when he came out into the parking lot. I missed seeing him on that hockey rush he gets. I feel like that's when he's the cutest.

That goal he had was unreal too. I still have no idea how he got that shot in. I've watched the reply dozens of times by now and the opening he had to get it through was just the size of the puck itself. And that pass for the game winner - my God. I forgot how much I loved hockey. I've watched it a ton obviously, but I enjoyed it a lot more tonight for some reason.

...And he speaks fucking French.

Out of all the things I could think of him doing over the last two years, learning French is not one of them. I don't know how he picked up on a language so easily! Who the fuck learns a language in two years?! Who can speak fluent French in two years?!

The universe is sick for this. For dropping him in front of me, a new and improved version of himself. He walked out into the parking lot with his bag over his shoulder, a black suit jacket and pants covering his body with a dark green shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned. His hair was still wet from the shower he took, pushed back from running his hands through it. He still had that one curl, though. That damn curl that seems to always fall right in front of his stupid face.

He's the prettiest person I've ever seen.

Now I'm sitting on the floor of Grace and Casey's living room, my legs crossed in front of me as I work on the container of noodles from the Chinese food place a few blocks away. It feels weird eating it when I'm not sad, but in a good way.

That doesn't make sense, but I don't care.

"All I'm saying is that he didn't have to slam me to the ice like that," Casey's voice snaps my attention back to the conversation, my eyes trailing to him sitting on the couch adjacent to me. Grace's legs are in his lap, his forearms resting on them as he eats.