Frozen Barriers Page 2

  There it was. Me against the world. I was never going to win, for fear my parents’ precious name would be tarnished by my sudden retirement in order to live my own life. Heaven forbid I ruin their appearances by moving on in the world.

  Since I didn’t make it to the World Championships that year, my mother felt I needed to have a better path. That better path involved me enrolling in college in Boston, which I never saw a classroom, and then losing my only friends I had at my old rink. I had a new coach, Suzy Stacy, a former coach to Olympic medalist Nancy Kerrigan. My mother wanted to spare no expense. Being a medalist and on an Olympic team meant more to her than it did to me.

  I had hoped my training would slow down, as I grew older, when in fact, it has become just the opposite. I make the drive into Boston four days a week for hours of training sessions with Suzy. Then, in between that, I have ballet, strength, and yoga classes amidst a strict diet plan and regular visits to the salon and spa. All of this just to keep my mother happy. At least at night, once I’ve made it home from unbearable traffic for an hour on Route 93, I can still relax in my room, open my e-reader, or turn on the television or radio and escape before I fall asleep.

  The only day of the week where I find inner peace and happiness now is when I drive here to my old rink and have early morning ice time all to myself. My mother isn’t here to critique my skating, and with solitude and my iPod blasting through my little Bose speakers, I just skate and feel the music. Sometimes I run laps around the rink. Other times, I choreograph my own routine and just free skate. There are no judges or appearances; it’s just me. It also keeps my mother happy, as she finds no problem paying the rental fee for my own ice time. She said, and I quote, “How wonderful, dear. You’ll be able to work on all the errors you made with Suzy during the week.” Yeah, that’s my mother. Thanks for the support!

  On occasion, I see my friend Milton walking around the old Valley Forum. He’s worked here since I was a kid. He usually keeps to himself while working on the daily repairs around the rink. Sometimes, when I get here, he’ll still be on the Zamboni making sure I have a fresh coat of smooth ice. By the time I lace up my skates today, he’s just about finished, and I tell him good morning. It’s nice to have someone to talk to who won’t judge me for what I’ve become. Hell, it’s nice to have someone just to talk to.

  I skate around the rink, warming up my legs and burning off the low-lying fog that is usually present on the ice surface early in the morning. The blades on my skates grind into the fresh coat of ice, allowing me to hear the crunching sound as I round each corner of the rink. I set up a net on the far end of the ice and drop about twenty pucks at the blue line near center ice. One by one, I slash my stick against the puck and aim for the net. They all go in, of course, it’s always easier to score that goal when a goalie isn’t standing in front of the net. After hitting the last puck, I hug the end of my stick between my Incredible Hulk sized gloves and sigh. This is my alone time. I have about twenty minutes each morning of free ice time, thanks to my buddy Dave who manages the front office and helps in the pro shop. He and I have been hockey buddies since middle school, so he lets me blow off some steam before all the Pee Wee League kids come in for practice.

  Since my hockey days at Boston University, I’ve been actively trying to get drafted by the NHL. I’ve made a little progress, playing for the Manchester Monarchs just north of here in Manchester, New Hampshire. They are part of the American Hockey League and affiliated with the LA Kings. I’m not gonna lie; I would love to have been chosen on the Providence Bruins team, as they are an affiliate of the Boston Bruins, but beggars can’t be choosers, and right now, I’m just glad I’m skating anywhere in the league.

  I have never turned a blind eye toward where I came from. This rink, this is where my heart is and always will be. It’s my sanctuary away from the team, the contracts, fans, booze, and well, eager women. It’s crazy that even Minor League hockey players seem to be something of value to the opposite sex. It’s here where I began my hockey career, moving from Squirt League to Pee Wee before starting high school hockey for Tewksbury. I managed a nice hockey scholarship to Boston University after being captain my junior and senior years and was named All-State Hockey Player my senior year.

  On one of my days off from team practice and regular season games, I skate with the kids. It’s funny how they all look at me as though I’m the rock star of hockey because they come up to see me play in Manchester sometimes. I’ve been out of college now for three years and haven’t moved up in the hockey league since. It has always been my dream to make it big time, but if I’m dealt the cards I’m given, and this is the life I’m meant to live, then I’m not going to complain, because at the end of the day, I still have my family, friends, and in about fifteen minutes, a whole lot of smiling faces.

  My mom, Grace, the eternal optimist, still believes I am meant to coach and stay in the area and to find the love of my life, settle down, and raise a beautiful family. I laugh at her ideas and often tell her that perhaps she has me confused with my sister Courtney. She’s constantly seeking out the love of her life just so she can settle down. With my schedule and coaching, I’m lucky if I have time during the season to even sleep. I’ve dated a number of girls since college; however, I believe it was my college girlfriend Becca who said it best when she dumped me.

  I still remember the day after my last game at Boston University my junior year. This was my last chance to get drafted by the NHL. Becca was with me and a number of others in my dorm, waiting through each of the picks to see if my name was called. I had secured plenty of records at BU, and my junior year was the best by far. Coach kept telling me I had a great shot, and he’d be surprised if I wasn’t picked that year.

  Team after team went up to the podium, but none of them called my name. Once the last team, and my last hope, walked up and off the stage, my NHL chances flashed before my eyes. Becca stayed by my side the previous two years and said she would stick by me no matter what because she loved me, and her feelings would never change. I thought I loved her too, but I was clearly thinking with my other head. She was my first sexual encounter, and although I wasn’t her first, she at least made hockey off-season manageable.

  It wasn’t until I came out of my non-NHL draft haze that I realized she had disappeared. I went back to my bedroom and found her sitting at my desk playing with my iPod. She heard me come in and looked up at me when I shut the door. Quickly standing, she walked over to me. Placing her hand on my chest, she asked me to have a seat and that what she had to say wasn’t going to be easy, but it needed to be said.

  “Jeremy, we need to break up.” Okay, I thought, that just came out of left field, but before I could interject, she continued, “I think you and I are moving in all the wrong directions. I mean, it’s been fun the past two years standing by you as the captain of the hockey team, but it’s clear you aren’t going to have a future in the NHL, and unfortunately, I just can’t sit around and wait for you to make it big time.”

  I thought, What the fuck?! Is she for real right now? I stood up and demanded, “What do you mean you can’t sit around and wait? I thought you said you loved me and that your feelings would never change?”

  It was at her response that I realized women are out for one thing and one thing only. Are you ready? Here’s her response. “Oh, Jeremy, I never loved you. I just told you that in the hopes you would someday make it to the NHL, and you would marry me and support me while I looked good at your side. I mean, I heard all the talk about you being the next big thing in the NHL, but after today’s draft, well, I can’t just sit around anymore. I need to find someone who can give me what I want, and you aren’t it anymore.”

  Deep Breaths. In and out. Fuck being calm! “Get out! Get the fuck out! Don’t you ever think about seeking me out in the future when your plan goes to shit. You just totally summed up what you were to me all these years, a bad lay and even shittier girlfriend.”

  She walked out of my roo
m and out of my life. Good riddance! She may have been a nice body with long blonde hair and a nice rack, but in all honesty, she wasn’t ever wife material. And after that moment, I didn’t think anyone would ever be.

  My phone started ringing in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see my parents on the caller ID. I answered, knowing full well why they were calling. But after listening to Becca’s nonsense the past half an hour, I needed to talk to the people that really loved me for me.

  I heard Dad on the other end of the line. “I saw the draft on TV, Son. Sorry, kid, I know what hockey means to you. But at the end of the day, you know you will still walk away from all of this with a great degree in Business Management. With that backbone, you will have an endless amount of opportunities if hockey isn’t in the cards for you professionally.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I know I just have to keep working hard this next year and see what happens in the future.”

  My mom piped in and tried to change my train of thought, “Jeremy, be happy with the life you choose. It may not be what you dreamed of at the moment, but you can always change. Be happy with a life you can change to your needs. If you were contracted into the NHL and you weren’t happy with that, how long do you think you would have had to be unhappy for?”

  Shit, Mom had a point. I’d always wanted the big NHL contract, but it wasn’t something I could try on for size, and if I didn’t like it, return it for a refund. No. NHL meant contracts that have a legal binding over your head and your life. If I didn’t like what was going on, I couldn’t legally just walk away. It’s funny how one minute my life was depending on one thing, but in the next, I had all the support in the world from my family telling me maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

  That was four years ago, and all these years later, I look back and laugh. I’m happy with what I do, and I’m living my life without regret. I check the clock and realize the kids will be in the locker room soon, so I better go gear up. As I make my way back to the locker room, I turn the corner and nearly run right into a petite little blonde wearing a spandex skating outfit and leggings over her skirt. She’s got her earplugs in and must not have heard me coming. I wonder what she’s doing here so early. They have another rink on the other side of the building, but typically figure skaters aren’t here this early in the morning. I stand off to the side and allow her to go by toward the exit. When I glance at her again, she’s already well past me as she walks out the front door. Funny, that almost looks like Emily Cameron. No, it can’t be. I haven’t seen her since that night back in high school. I’m quickly brought out of my trance by a bunch of screaming eleven-year-olds in the locker room. I chuckle and walk toward the sounds, thinking, Yeah, this is my happiness. These kids are my heart and soul, and no NHL contract would have ever brought me that.

  2005

  High school was always a difficult time for me. I hardly spent time amongst the other students in my grade at Andover High School. Most of the time, I ended up having to make up classes because I was out so much for training and competitions. It was no wonder after my freshman year of getting almost all incompletes in my classes that my parents were forced to home school me with a tutor. Apparently, no amount of bargaining with the school principal would allow student athletes any special benefits.

  My tutor worked odd hours just so my parents could ensure my training never suffered. Imagine. My education took a backseat to my skating. I really couldn’t make this shit up as the years progressed. I could hardly contain my anticipation for the day I turned eighteen. I was sure at that moment I would break free of the prison sentence I seemed to be serving all those years.

  It was also even more troublesome when I began developing and maturing into my adult body. My mother would get upset at the fact that she couldn’t control my little growth spurt. My breasts came in, hips turned out, and I grew to an above average height of five-foot-seven. In the skating world, this was the worst possible scenario. Jumps became even more of a challenge. The taller I became, the harder it was to judge my landings.

  Mother was less than impressed. She insisted on extended training sessions to ensure I was on the right path to success. More coaching sessions were involved and increased gym time to make sure the Cameron image stayed intact. She never wanted to have me put forth any bad image that would come back negative to my father’s business.

  I rarely had time to socialize with my friends that I grew up with at the rink. Up until high school, I trained with my only three friends at the Valley Forum. Suzanne, Lily and Morgan were my link to the outside world and gossip. Being tutored at the house never allowed me to have any friends like the normal kids that were my age. I was at least allowed a computer, which kept me in touch with my girls by email and MySpace. I never had much time for phone calls, but I was able to drop them texts here and there just to see how things were going when I wasn’t around the rink.

  Suzanne seemed to be the most assertive of the three; she was slightly older than me and went to Tewksbury High School. Being seventeen, she was just finishing up her senior year. After free skate one day, I was packing up my gear when she approached me. Suzanne was preparing for her senior prom and had come up to me in the locker room to ask me if I wanted to head out for a bit to shop around for her prom dress and maybe grab some lunch. I’d never been approached much about spending time away from the rink with friends. To say I was stunned would have been an understatement.

  I went to find my mother outside, and she wasn’t immediately convinced I should go; however, once Suzanne was at my side trying to get my mother to agree, she finally conceded. Clearly, my mother knew she had an audience and didn’t want rumors to spread about her inability to allow her only daughter to enjoy herself once in a while. My mother took my bag from my shoulder and leaned in to give me one of her fake hugs, only to quickly whisper into my ear, “Do not disappoint me, Emily.” Well, yes, Mother, that’s exactly my goal in life. To spend a few hours outside of your grasp only to attempt to maliciously scar the family name. She really did think so little of me as a human, let alone her own flesh and blood.

  After Mother left, Suzanne dragged me by my arm to her car. I’d never been more excited and scared to have “girl” time in my life. I wasn’t exactly sure how to just be normal since I’d never had an opportunity to have a social life. Suzanne, on the other hand, was a social butterfly.

  Once we were in the car, I asked her where we were headed to find her prom dress. She turned down her radio and said that we were going to a small dress shop in Tewksbury. I found a bold curiosity, and asked, “Who are you going to prom with?” I was almost certain she was about to burst out of her skin she was so excited.

  “His name is Josh Page. He’s a few years older than me, but we have been dating for about a year now.”

  I was unaware of dating or boys in general. Yeah, we had a few guys who were in the skating club, but none of them were exactly looking for a female to date, if you catch my drift. This was a whole new territory for me, and my mother had never been forthcoming on dating advice, so I decided to approach the subject with Suzanne without making me appear too eager or ill-informed.

  “Are you planning on having sex with him after prom?” She began laughing hysterically at me. I knew I should have curled into a ball and just kept quiet.

  “Oh my gosh, Emily! I’m not a virgin. Josh and I have certainly had sex long before this.”

  “Really?” I said, more of a question than a statement.

  “Yeah, hold on. Are you saying you haven’t had sex yet?” Wait. No. Now, I want to crawl into a hole and never come out!

  Suzanne turned her head to look at me and said, “Oh, Emily, don’t worry. I’m sure you and your boyfriend will get there soon. I was fifteen when I first had sex.” My gaping mouth must have been quite the image.

  “Suzanne, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’ve never even been on a date or kissed a boy.”

  It was then that I think Suzanne may have finally realized the error of her ass
umption and just how inexperienced I really was. “Emily, how have you never been kissed yet? I mean, look at you! You are stunning, and you have boobs that I would kill to have. You are every guy’s wet dream!”

  I knew I might regret it, but I wasn’t going to learn anything from my mother, so it was either ask Suzanne or Google it later. “What’s a wet dream?”

  Suzanne quickly responded, “Oh my God! You are too funny!! Clearly, you haven’t had Sex Ed at school, or your mother hasn’t given you all the details needed yet, so I’m going to help you out with a little Sex Ed 101.”

  2005

  I had just finished hockey practice when my brother came to pick me up at the rink. Josh had gotten fitted for his tux for his second prom. I still couldn’t believe the idiot fell for that smitten kitten Suzanne. Nice girl, but those two together scream trouble. I already had my measurements for prom ready to go. With my senior hockey season over, I was still trying to stay conditioned for when I began college hockey in the fall with BU, so prom was the last thing on my mind. I probably wouldn’t have even been going if it hadn’t been for Josh. He said if he had to endure all the pain associated with being a college freshman at a high school prom, then I was going to have to suffer, too.

  I didn’t have much time for girls in high school, but that didn’t stop any of them from hounding me to take them to the fuckin’ event. They wouldn’t relent until I finally picked one to go with me. Suzanne was spending an afternoon at the house with Josh when she cornered me and said if I didn’t choose a prom date soon, she was going to pick one for me. I laughed in her face, except for the fact she was dead serious. Once I stopped laughing at her, Josh looked at me and then back at Suzanne and shook his head.