“This was a really good night,” she says, tracing the edge of the frame with her finger. “I’d gotten out of school early and taken the train into the city with Gam and Pop. My mom, Kirstin, met us at the arena. I was so excited tosee her. It had been months. She told me she’d see me at Uncle Hudson’s playoff game, but she was never good at keeping promises, so I tried not to get my hopes up. But they were always up, you know? She was my mom. Anyway,” she says, with a shake of her head, “Uncle Hudson’s team won, and my mom was there, and it all felt so good, so…normal. By the time the next post-season rolled around, my uncle was on the injured list and my mom was gone. But this picture, this night, it was a good one.”
Her smile is sad as she hands the picture back to me, and it’s the kind of smile I recognize—the kind that comes from a broken place inside you. I’m only getting crumbs of Maggie’s story, but it sounds like the bruises on heart match the ones on mine.
“So, Coach Baylor is your uncle?” I ask, setting the picture on the shelf.
“He is,” she answers. “My mom, Kirstin, was his older sister. Uncle Hudson was in middle school when I was born, I think.”
“And you’re staying with him now?”
“Yeah,” she says, sitting back down on the metal chair and folding her arms protectively around herself. “I grew up in Bainbridge. I lived with my grandparents, but I went to college out in California. It was great, until it wasn’t. I needed a change of pace and Uncle Hudson and Aunt Jules offered to let me stay with them. I’m graduating in May, so it seemed like a good solution. I just never counted on…” Her words trail off as she looks up at me.
There’s still a piece of the puzzle I’m missing, but Maggie’s sitting here talking to me instead of running off, so I’m doing my best to play it cool.
“You never counted on me, huh? To be honest, I never counted on you either, Cinderella. So…Coach is your uncle…That doesn’t explain why you ran out of the library like you werebeing chased,” I say taking a seat on one of the metal chairs.
“I saw your hoodie and…freaked,” she explains.
I laugh wryly. “I got that much. I just don’t get why. You can’t date hockey players, but I don’t get that, either.”
Her eyes widen. “Have you met my uncle?”
“Yeah, obviously,” I say, pointing at my shirt.
She shrugs. “I just figured he warned all of you to steer clear of me, because I certainly got the same lecture in reverse.
Now that she mentions it, I vaguely recall him telling us to treat his niece like a sister, and nothing else. It never registered at the time, and I think I’d have remembered anyone telling me to stay away from a girl named Maggie. I sure as hell wouldn’t have listened, but I’d have remembered.
“He probably called me Margo,” she says. “I’m named for my Gam, but there were three people living in our house, and two of them were named Margo, so it got confusing. And kind of annoying. I started going by Maggie in elementary school, but my uncle never got the memo.”
“Yeah, I get the appeal of a nickname,” I say, thinking of my own mother and the word scramble of a name she gave me.
Maggie’s eyes light up for a second. “What does JT stand for? I’ve been wanting to ask you.”
There aren’t a lot of people at BU who know the answer to that question. After I turned eighteen, I legally changed my name to JT, and not just because my mom couldn’t spell. Or was too high to care about cursing her kid with a name like Jhaxxsyn Tieylyr Norris. Sure, I could have changed it to Jackson Tyler, but I had reasons for wanting distance between where I came from and where I was going. Coach and Mickey are probably the only ones who know my birth name, and I planned on keeping it that way. But plans change. “Sure, I’ll tell you. If you go out on a date with me.”
Her smile fades. “I can’t. You guys are all off-limits to me. And I’m off-limits to you. Besides, I don’t date.”
“Those limits aren’t real, Maggie. Coach made them up. And you say you don’t date, but isn’t that kind of what we’ve been doing? Hanging out at lunch, thinking about each other even when we shouldn’t be, fucking like rabbits on other people’s furniture. That sounds about right.”
“We can’t, though,” she protests.
“Why not?” I ask. “For me, it’s pretty simple. If you want something, you go after it. And I want you.”
The blush returns to her cheeks. “Wanting you isn’t the problem.”
“So, what is the problem? Coach? Because I’ll sit here and wait for him to come back from his meeting. When he does, I’ll let him know that I’m seeing someone. I’ll remind him that I’m a grown-ass adult and so is she. You’re welcome to stay. I’m not ashamed, Maggie. You can hold my hand or sit on my lap while we wait.”
She blanches at my suggestion. “Don’t you dare.”
“Is it really that big a deal?” I ask. I mean, I know Coach can come off gruff, but will he really care if his niece is dating someone? And he knows I’m a good guy. I’m not gonna dick Maggie around or play games. This girl has my heart on lock, to be honest, but if I tell her that, I’ll just scare her away.
“It is, trust me. My uncle is a control freak. He’s got his reasons, I guess, but still. And I’m not in the market for a boyfriend. I love having lunch with you, and I probably think about you way more than I should, and last night was even better than the first time, but…I can’t go on a date with you. I just can’t. And everything that’s happened between us has to stay just between us, ok? I’m serious. Rumors spread like wildfire on a college campus. You can’t sit around and tell your bros about anything we did, okay? Because they’ll tell stories and things will just get out of hand.”
I blink. What the fuck kind of person does she think I am? “I’m not spreading rumors about you, Maggie. Do you really think I’m sitting around the locker room giving play-by-plays of my nights with you?” I can’t hide the hurt in my voice. Maybe I’m being defensive because I’m still that little kid who got passed between relatives like an ugly heirloom nobody wanted. The only redeeming quality I ever had was my skill on the ice, and fuck, that’s what’s screwing me now.
There’s a knock at the door and Maggie freezes like a statue. I play it off because I’ve obviously had more experience getting in trouble than she has. The trick is that you can’t look guilty. Once you let that nervousness show, you’re done.
Coach Anderson steps inside the office. “Margo, honey, Hudson just called and said you should check your email.” He laughs, shaking his head. “The guy’s younger than I am, but you’d never know it. Hey, JT, you need anything?”
