me, and it was the first time I had checked my phone.
Me: Sorry, got busy.
My phone rang.
“Hello?”
Mica’s voice rumbled in my ear. “How did you sleep?”
I smiled at the sound of his voice. “Surprisingly well. Thanks for asking Zoey to come over.”
“You’re welcome. Did you bring the dog home?”
“Sandy? Andrew came over this morning to pick her up.”
A fraction of a pause. “He did, did he?”
I knew that Mica didn’t like Andrew, but I didn’t quite understand why I responded with so many nerves every time we talked about him. “Zoey let him in and he stayed for a quick coffee.”
“I see.”
“How is it going there?”
“We just had practice and are heading in to a team lunch.”
“Zoey and I will watch the game tonight.”
I could hear the smile in his voice as he teased, “Come on, don’t jest.”
“It’s true. I am voluntarily going to watch a hockey game tonight.”
A slight pause. “So why were you in my bed?”
I felt myself flush. “Because Zoey was coming over.”
“You were in my bed with the dog before you knew Zoey was coming over.”
There were a few reasons why I had crawled into his bed. It felt like him, which made me feel less lonely, and being in his room made me feel safer. “Your bed feels safe.”
His voice went low. “Oh yeah, how come?”
“It just does. Do you mind?”
“Nope.”
The barista called my name. “I have to go.”
“Talk to you later.”
Zoey and I made dinner together and then settled down on the couch to watch the game. I liked Zoey. She was funny and light and she always had a smile on her face.
We talked as we watched the game, and then the worst thing happened.
Mica got into a fight.
I wasn’t even sure why it started. One minute, he and another player were toe-to-toe, and then Mica threw his gloves off. The other guy shoved him, and Mica grabbed his jersey and swung hard, hitting him in the face. Fighting on the ice is no easy feat. It’s an uneven dance of flying fists and trying to stay upright on skates. At one point, the other guy dropped to his knees, but he snapped back up to his feet, swung and hit Mica in the mouth.
I screamed into my hands, wanting to shut my eyes but unable to look away. What I couldn’t process was how fast they punched. Repeatedly, like jackhammers, they both took swings at each other, connecting with each other’s heads, never letting up.
The refs circled but didn’t interfere. The other guy lost his balance and flipped onto his back. Mica pounced, and the refs worked hard to pull Mica off him.
The camera zoomed in on Mica, who was bleeding from his cheek. The other guy was in worse shape. Blood gushed from his nose. They were both sent to opposite penalty boxes.
I dropped my face into the pillow, emotionally trying to recover.
“Are you okay?” Zoey asked softly.
I lifted my hot face up. “I hated that.”
She patted my arm. “I know.”
“That was horrible. Why would they do that? He was bleeding.”
“He’s okay. Mica’s a tough guy.”
I blinked at her. “I was starting to like hockey.”
“Hockey is fun, but the fighting never gets easier to watch.”
I curled up on my side of the couch, feeling completely traumatized. “Do you think he’s hurt?”
The camera zoomed in on Mica. A trainer crouched beside him, taping his cheek. He was indifferent to the ministrations and was lipping off at the other guy through the Plexiglas.
“I’m thinking he’s okay.”
I stayed silent, cursing the camera when it focused back on the game.
She spoke again. “Mica’s tough. He can handle a lot.”
Except emotion. “Don’t tell him I freaked.”
She studied me for a moment. “Yeah, okay.”
I stood up, unwilling to finish watching the game. “I think I’ll head to bed.”
“Have a good sleep.”
I woke up from a dead sleep to the sound of bells. Sitting up, I realized the doorbell was ringing. Repeatedly.
In the dark, Zoey and I came together in the kitchen. Neither of us had turned on a light.
“What time is it?” she whispered.
“Three in the morning.”
We stared at each other.
“It could be a neighbor or someone?”
She silently opened a drawer and pulled out a large knife. Together, we crept to the door. I disengaged the alarm and swung the door open.
There was no one there. We stepped out onto the front stoop and looked around. The street was empty.
We didn’t speak until I had relocked the door and engaged the alarm.
“Someone’s trying to scare you,” she