The past is always with us, just waiting to mess with the present.

—Gossip Girl

____________________________________

JAKE

MARCH

Derek didn't write his name in pencil. And he didn't write his name in pen. He actually typed it. Okay, I typed it but he texted to me to make sure I was typing it... letter by letter. Regardless of that fact, Derek's knee was still bouncing up and down, and for some reason, I couldn't stop playing with my pen. Mr. Douglas was making his way through the aisles, either handing people their reports or tossing them onto desks. I could only assume the people that were getting their reports thrown at them like a dodgeball did not do as well as the people who were getting their reports presented to them like they had just won the Nobel Peace Prize. Derek and I looked at each other but didn't say anything. I looked a few seats over at Ava and Katie who were flipping through their report and I'd be lying if I said I didn't see a red nine scrawled across the top. Not surprising.

Ava said something and Katie laughed. She covered her mouth with her hand trying not to completely lose it in the middle of class. I couldn't help but smile as I watched her try and keep it together. She looked over at me and her laughter stopped almost instantly, but there was a still a giddy, carefree smile on her face. I gave her a little wave and she waved back.

"Mr. Roswell," Mr. Douglas pulled me out whatever trance I was in. I jumped, a little startled and looked up, noticing he was at our table. Weird. Because a moment ago he was on the other side of the room. I glanced back at Katie to see her giggling at me. I felt my face heat up a little but had to laugh at that. "Mr. Leighton," he looked at Derek, holding a surprisingly crisp-looking report, devoid of tire marks and footprints.

"Hi," we said, because what else do you say?

"Even though I had to deal with the both of you two more years than I wanted.

"Wait, you only had us for two years though..." Derek interrupted.

"That's the point." Mr. Douglas ground out the words.

"Dude, shut up." I smacked his arm, afraid that any good grade we might have received would be changed.

"You didn't pay attention half-of-the-time coupled with the fact that you showed up late every single Tuesday..." he continued and I tried my best not to roll my eyes while I saw Derek slouching further and further into his chair. "I'm unexpectedly pleased with how this turned out." He finished on a much more positive note than I had anticipated

"And you can say the same for us as, right?" Derek shot up in his chair, returning to full posture and gave Mr. Douglas half of a hopeful smile, as if that would somehow affect his answer.

"Fortunately, Leighton, I still think the same of you and your hockey friend." He smiled, like, actually smiled at us, teeth and all, which is only the smile he gave to people he liked. I guess he really liked not liking us. It was practically a sport for him. A varsity sport.

"Good to know..." I made a tentative grab for our report before Mr. Douglas could change our grade. If it really was as good as he was making it off to be, I didn't want anything to jeopardize it. Not now. "We'll keep that in mind." I wanted him to keep walking so Derek and I could find out what his idea of "unexpectedly pleased was."

Derek and I both looked at the report, which was facedown on the table. The only visible wear-and-tear we could see was the crease underneath the staple, presumably from him folding the pages back and actually reading.

"Alright, ready?" I asked.

"On three," Derek said.

We looked at each other. "Three!" We shouted flipping the report over.

I studied the names in the top lefthand corner of the page.

Jacob Roswell and Derek Leighton

Mr. Douglas

European History

March 18

"That's our names," I said quietly to myself. My eyes darted over to the nine, which was accompanied by a four, and it didn't just look like it was scrawled across the page, but like it had a purpose for being there. Next to the numbers were the words, 'well done.' I read them out loud before my eyes travelled back to mine and Derek's names on the page. "He didn't give us someone else's report. It all sunk in at once and my reaction was to smack Derek's arm. "Dude."

He launched out of his seat, knocking his chair over in the process. "That's a nine!" He was jumping up and down, pointing to our report. "That's a nine!" He looked happier than my dad did on Christmas morning, and I didn't think that was possible.

"Not bad for a couple of hockey bros." Derek and I did our handshake before we both let out a "woo!"

"Jesus, Jake, you'd think this was the first time you got an A on a Mr. Douglas report." Ava rolled her eyes, pretending to be feud with my antics.

"It is!" Derek called across the room to her. "It is, Ava, okay? Be happy for us!" he demanded.

"It's a good day, Aves!" I held the report up for her and the rest of the class to see. I couldn't stop a smile from spreading across my face.

"Everyone! I have an announcement to make!" Derek was now standing on the table. "The Lord has heard our prayers because Jake and I have just received a 94 on our report!"

"Leighton, if you don't get off that desk in the next three seconds, that report of yours is going to be an 84," Mr. Douglas said without looking up from the stack of papers he was going through on his desk.

The final bell of the day rang, saving Derek and me from total demise and failure. "See you at the game tonight," Derek called to Katie and Ava before running out of the room.

"What he said!" I grabbed our report off the table and bolted after him.

By the time we made it to Coach's office we were winded from all the excitement. We didn't knock, just bolted in. "Coach, Coach, Coach," we babbled, not even being able to think straight.

"There had better be a damn good reason why you boys are in my office and not on your way home preparing for the game tonight." He gave us an angry look, still holding the pen in his hand.

"Douglas gave us an A." Derek said in between breaths. "He gave us an A. First letter in the alphabet."

"I didn't think this day would come," Coach Hawthorne said quietly, standing up to inspect our report. He held it up to the light, shook it to see if the grade would change, smelled it... everything.

"Already did that, Coach," Derek informed him. "That 94 isn't going anywhere." He crossed his arms across his chest.

"Which is why you should be." He handed it back to us. "Now go home, learn the rest of the alphabet, and think about hockey." His voice went from pleasant parent to crabby coach real quick.

"Yes, Sir," we said, turning to walk out.

"Jake," Coach called. I stopped and gave Derek a nod for him to continue on and that I'd catch up later. "Sit down." He gestured to the chair. "You got something on your mind?" he asked, and when I didn't respond, Coach knew he'd found his answer. "You've been a little off at practice this week. Distracted even."

"Big game coming up. Must be nerves." I tried to play it off, but he saw right through me.

"I don't know what could be bigger or more important than State, but whatever it is, you need to deal with it. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir." I nodded.

"Alright, go on then." He looked at the door.

△

I dropped my bag by the counter when I got home, and as usual, Mom was reading a book on the couch.

"Hi, honey!" she looked up at me.

I muttered a quick hello before racing past her towards my room.

"How was school?"

"Good," I said.

"Did you get your report back?" I heard the page of her book turn.

"Yup." I'd show it to you, but Derek was so proud of it, he insisted on showing his parents first.

"Are you giving me one-word answers because you love me?"

I had to smile at that one. "Uh-huh," I continued.

"Love you too, sweetie!"

I didn't say anything to that because suddenly I'd developed tunnel vision. I needed to get to that envelope. Read it. Find out what it said. I had to. I just had to. I locked my door, hoping that would somehow block out the outside world, or at least make everything okay.

Now or never.

I stared at the top drawer of my dresser before wrenching it open, digging through socks and boxers. More than half of them ended up on the floor. I felt my fingertips scrape the wooded bottom of my dresser and froze. Slowly, I moved my hand until it skimmed across the cool envelope.

I stared down at it.

It returned the look.

As I had done so many times before, I undid the seal and ripped the papers out. But this time, I opened them, my eyes scanning over neatly printed words that could throw anyone's life into perfect disarray. They were enough to break a person into so many unfixable pieces that not even love, or time, or all the duct tape in the world could fix.

And then I saw the results.

My heart stopped.

First I grabbed onto the dresser to steady myself.

Then I let go of the envelope, watching as the papers separated and fluttered down to the floor.

My vision went blurry.

The framed Gretzky jersey hanging on my wall stated to tilt.

Further and further, and the colors all blurred together, and the hardwood floor came rushing up to me, welcome me even.

The coolness seeped into my skin and spread throughout my body, sending chills down my spin.

If I could have moved, I would have visibly shivered, but I was still in shock.

Emma.

Emma.

Emma.

I stared at a stray sock that had somehow made its way underneath my bed. But I didn't really stare at it. I did and I didn't. Just kinda in the general direction of the sock. How had it gotten underneath there? Was my Mom missing a sock when she folded laundry?

Black sock.

White design on the toe.

Black sock.

Pink emblem on the heel.

They were socks we had gotten last October for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Now that I saw the sock, I was beginning to wonder where the other one was.

Pink.

Pink.

Pink like Emma's elephant.

Emma.

Emma.

Emma Roswell.

I handed Mom the papers. "This beats any grade I will ever get on a report." I sat down next to her on the couch.

She put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Jake," she mumbled.

"She's mine, Mom." I said, not even attempting to stop the smile from spreading across my face. "She's mine," I repeated before laying my head in her lap.

I closed my eyes and tried to steady my heartbeat as she gently rubbed my back.

"I'm proud of you." Her whispered wrapped around me.

She's mine.

△

Like most games, I showed up early, so it was just me and the locker room. Silence and peace. Since it was State, I showed up extra early. Derek had the same idea, but this was to be expected.

"Hey man, can we talk?" I asked him, which was not expected. He and I usually got ready and did our whole pregame rituals in silence. The silence, being a pregame ritual all in itself. But some rituals had to end eventually.

Derek looked up at me from his end of the bench.

I took a deep breath because what I was about to do, I didn't do very often. "I never really got a chance to apologize to you," I started off. Derek's jaw dropped, but he didn't say anything. "You were with Katie and I didn't even consider that, or you for that matter," I said. "Just her." I ran my hands over my head. "But I'm sure you know all too well how easy it is to get wrapped up in Katie." I blew a stream of air through my lips. "God, this is a lot harder than I thought."

"You're off to a pretty decent start." Derek let out half-a-laugh.

"I'm sorry." I blurted out. "I'm so sorry for kissing her, bro." I shook my head. "You have every right to hate me. Or punch me,"

"Coach already did that." Derek reminded me.

"Yeah, well, if you wanted to punch me, I'd be okay with that too." I added after weighing my options. "I shouldn't have kissed her. That was wrong and I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Der."

"Man... why didn't you just tell me you had a thing for her?" Derek asked.

"Because I was with Jules and I had a kid, and everything was messed up." I shook my head. "And you were with her, so there's that."

"Well that didn't stop you from kissing her..." he said.

"Jules left and then I kissed her, but I know. I know. I'm a total asshole," I said.

"Everyone knows that," Derek laughed. "Make sure you put that on your resume though."

"I'll put it under occupation." I cracked a grin.

"But Jules leaving shouldn't have been an excuse for me to just kiss her."

"Do you like her?" he asked me, getting serious again.

"I don't know. I just get happy when I see her." I told him honestly.

"Yeah, she kinda has that effect on people."

"Do you still like her?" I asked him, playing with my grip tape, because whenever I got nervous, my hands started moving around, and I couldn't stop it or control it, so I just kinda went with it.

"A part of me is always going to like her Jake," Derek said slowly, pausing to think about his next set of words. "but I think a part of you loves her," he told me. "Like you love Emma," he added that small tidbit of information in case his definition of love needed to be put into perspective.

"Yeah, maybe..." I shrugged. "I don't know." I shook my head. After Jules doing what she did. I don't know. All I know for certain is that I love Emma."

"I tell her everyday." I laughed.

"Katie. Tell Katie."

"That I love her?" Now I was just messing with Derek for the fun of it.

"That you like her!" He threw his glove at me. "You gotta tell Katie, Jake." Derek looked at me. "She broke up with me for you." He added.

"She did not." My mouth formed into a hard line while my stomach danced a little bit.

"That was one of the reasons," he said.

"Well, I'm glad it wasn't the only reason." I told him.

"So tell her."

"After we win State." I smirked at him as Calum walked into the locker room.

"Let's do this, boys!" he cheered throwing his stuff down.