queenofheaven82

[queenofheaven82]

PART IV --  Dance Parties and Broken Hearts

Thanksgiving came a few days later. It slipped up so quickly Lacey nearly forgot about the holiday until the day before, when her mom suddenly yelled, "It's snowing! Finally! And for Thanksgiving!"

Thanksgiving had never been a particularly big holiday for the Primmers. Her mom usually ordered a turkey and fixings from a nearby grocery store in lieu of cooking, and mostly they sat in front of the TV watching football with Stuart as they ate. But this year, Darlene seemed to have something different on her mind.

"I found some autumn china at the Dollar Tree -- can you believe it?! -- and that's what we're using this year. At the table. With my old goblets I got at my wedding shower when I married your dad."

Lacey swallowed. Why didn't Mom know by now that mentioning her dad around her was a huge mistake? She reached up under her hair to finger a small strand, willing herself not to pull.

So Thursday came, and as snow came down in sheets outside the townhouse window, Lacey's mom spread out a tablecloth at their rarely-used dinner table and worked on some very well-done place settings. Stuart's usual cheerful personality was dampered slightly by the fact that it was Davy's mom's turn to have him over the holiday, but Lacey could tell he was trying for the sake of everyone else to keep his spirits up.

Her mom also went through the trouble to put the takeout in serving dishes, so Lacey almost felt like she was having Thanksgiving at a totally different house. But it was nice.

Just as they were sitting down to eat, however, the doorbell rang. Ariel, ever nosy, jumped up first and made a dash for the door.

Stuart's brow furrowed. "Who could that be?"

A moment later, they found out. Max followed Ariel, who rolled her eyes at Lacey, into the dining room.

"Hey! What's doin'?" he inquired enthusiastically, coming over and giving Lacey a forehead kiss. "My old man's in a mood, so I thought I'd just come over here. That okay?" He took off his scarf and coat and draped them across the back of Lacey's chair.

Lacey was speechless. Max rarely liked coming to her house. To what did she owe this?

Her mom looked none too happy. "Well... come on in, then." She stood up and grabbed a paper plate, evidently short on the dollar tree china, and pulled over a stool from the corner of the kitchen.

"Thanks Ms. P." Max wedged himself between Lacey and Halen. "So how's it goin?"

Stuart could always be counted upon to be polite. "Ah, very well! Nice to have fresh snow on Thanksgiving, isn't it?"

Max loaded his plate up, and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I think the same thing happened last year."

Lacey wanted to melt into the floor.

"So I hear you played a good game against Eden Hall a couple weeks ago, scored quite a few goals. Congratulations," Stuart passed the yeast rolls.

"Banks was taken out, so that helped alot." Max ate a fork full of green beans.

"Adam Banks? I'd bet. He's a tough one to go up against, isn't he? Davy says hardly anyone stands a chance."

"Yeah, well," Max smirked. "I think he's losing his edge. Orion benched him halfway through the game because he was skating like a forty-year-old. Maybe he's preoccupied with girl problems."

"Watch it," Darlene remarked. "I'm getting there, Max."

"Girl problems?" Ariel asked, smiling.

Darlene gave her a look. "No, smartypants. Forty."

But Lacey had zoned out of the banter. She wanted to say something, she just wasn't sure what yet. However, her mom afforded her the opportunity.

"That boy is probably just like his dad. Full of ego. Maybe being benched will take him down a knotch or two," Darlene muttered.

Lacey set her fork down gingerly. "I don't think Adam should be blamed for what his dad's like, you guys. And maybe something's genuinely wrong with him that caused him to not be at his best. We really don't know that much about him."

Max stared at her a moment. "Well, you apparently know enough to call him 'Adam.' What's with that? He's always been 'Banks' to everybody else."

Lacey felt her blood pressure rise slightly. "Well, his name is Adam. And I'm pretty sure he's a human being before he's a hockey player and Phil Banks's son."

The table went quiet. Everyone stared at her in disbelief except for Stuart, who ducked his head down, continuing to eat.

"I'm... just saying, I guess, that if he was benched, something might really be wrong. So we could show a little compassion." She looked at Max as she said this.

Max turned wordlessly back to his food and began to eat again, but more slowly this time. Lacey fidgeted with her napkin and slid to the edge of her chair, wondering why she'd bothered to say anything if it was going to disrupt the entire dinner. She squeezed the napkin hard.

After a few minutes of silence, Stuart stood up and left the room. Lacey wondered for a moment if she'd upset him, too, even though to her memory he'd never said one bad word about Banks.

But the reason he left became clear after a moment. "Hey. I think I hear something," she heard him call from the living room. "It's coming closer. Anybody else hear it?"

Ariel and Halen paused their eating and looked up at Lacey, who couldn't suppress her own smile.

"Oh God, not now, Stuart," her mom rolled her eyes. But it was too late.

Suddenly the dramatic intro chords of Poison Arrow by ABC sounded throughout the house.

"Alright, Girls! Let's see some dancing!" Stuart called in.

Quick as lightning, the twins jumped up, giggling, and ran into the living room, followed by Lacey. Stuart's dance parties and the girls' enthusiasm over them were infectious.

"What the--?" She heard Max questioning behind her.

Stuart grabbed Lacey's hands as soon as she entered the living room and began twirling her to the beat of the synth pop. She laughed. "This isn't a twirl song, Stuart!"

Ariel and Halen were leaning in, singing into one another's faces:

"Who broke my heart? You did! You did!

You think you're smart? Stupid! Stupid!

Shoot that poison arrow to my heeeeart!"

They danced around in no specific style, jumping up onto the couch and grabbing remote controls and the cordless phone to use as microphones. Lacey couldn't help laughing at their antics while dancing with Stuart.

She happened at one point to spot Max in the doorway staring at them all with a furrowed brow as though he couldn't understand what the big deal was.

"Stuart's British dance parties," Lacey laughed breathlessly after it was all over. "He springs them on us sometimes."

"Ugh, I feel like I'm gonna hurl," Ariel winced.

"I guess you do!" Lacey's mom called from the kitchen. "Dancing in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner..."

Stuart's actions blessedly lightened up the tone of the rest of the meal, but Max remained quiet despite having filled his plate twice more. After the pumpkin pie her mom had bought frozen from Publix, Max stood. "Thanks Ms. P, that was awesome. Lacey, walk out with me?"

Lacey stood, sensing something in Max's tone she wasn't sure of. She put on her scarf and coat, pulling the fur-lined hood up over her head before heading outside.

"Babe..." Max took a deep breath. "I don't know what's been into you lately, but it's weird. You just haven't been yourself. And, I mean, I don't know what to make of you taking up for Banks all of a sudden after the way his dad has treated your mom. How is it you know him? Seriously?"

Lacey felt her ire rising. "I don't, Max, good grief! He came into the cat shelter earlier in the week to bring in kittens, and just... we talked some. He's not the jerk you say he is. But it's not like we're best buddies or anything."

"Oh, okay," Max quipped. "He brought in cats, so now he's suddenly this standup guy. You're obsessed with damn cats, so no wonder."

"So what if he was a standup guy? How does that threaten you? I have as much right to think him decent from our conversation at the Cat's Cradle as you do to think he's a jackass just because he's a better hockey player than you."

The moment she said it, she knew she'd made a mistake. Max tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes.

"Okay. I don't get what's with you, but you know who you've been reminding me of lately?" Max leaned in. "Loosey Lacey from middle school."

Lacey's mouth went dry and she felt her insides tremble with rage. For a moment, she couldn't speak.

When she finally did, she knew she couldn't take it back.

"Go. Just go. And Max? Don't come back."

Max's expression changed to one of surprise.

"It's been coming for awhile now, so let's just end this, okay?" Lacey turned to go back inside.

"Oh. Alright," Max threw his hands up. "I tell you the truth about yourself and you wig out and decide to throw the whole thing in the trash can."

"It's not just what you said, Max," she whirled around. "It's about your ego. Everything is always about you. It's about you pushing me to have sex. It's about you wanting to tool around at State while expecting me to sit here waiting for you. I just... I want something different."

Max stared at her for a long while. "Okay. If that's what you want, it's over. But with all your issues, Lacey? Good luck finding anybody else. Unless you want to give Banks a go. You seem pretty taken with him."

Lacey shook her head slowly. "If anybody's obsessed with Banks, it's you, Max. You can't stand to have any competition, can you?"

With that, she turned and went back into the house, wiping angry tears. She made her way back into the dining room, trying to look nonplussed, but everyone was quiet as she took her seat again and she sat staring down at her plate.

"Lacey?" Stuart spoke gently. "Did it not go well?"

"It's done," Lacey finally spoke.

Awkward silence perpetuated until she heard the sound of chair legs scraping linoleum as Stuart got up and came around to put his hands on her shoulders. With that, she began to cry again..

It wasn't so much that she was devastated at losing Max, but the fact that he called her someone she believed she no longer was -- someone she hoped she would never be again. It hurt down to her bones to remember that frightened girl, and why she had become that. Worse yet, she worried Max was right: that girl never left.

Lacey stood up and fell into Stuart's arms, hot tears spilling down her cheeks.

"He's a falling leaf, Lass. They're a dime a dozen. You'll recover and find an even better lad, I just know it."

She held onto Stuart tightly -- the only man she'd dared to consider a father, and the only man who had ever thought her to be good enough just like she was.

************************************

Adam had done Thanksgiving with his parents, plus Travis, who was in from Chicago. He and his brother had never been particularly close, so he knew it probably wouldn't bother him for Adam to return to Eden Hall that evening instead of spending the night at his house. Several of the Ducks did the same, feeling in many ways closer to their team members than they even did their biological families. And some, like Mendoza and Portman, had too far to travel and had just stayed. So they'd all planned to meet back at the dorm after family activities, except for Julie, who had opted to spend the night at Connie's.

"Red hair," Portman stretched out on the couch in the day room. "You get a woman with red hair and green eyes, you know she's gonna have that sassy edge. So make it that, for me. Red hair, green cat eyes and a sweet a-- oh wait, can't say that word. It would hurt Kenny's pure ears."

The guys laughed and Kenny Wu turned red, rolling his eyes.

"Banksie, your turn."

They all looked over at Adam, who had known this question would come around to him eventually. "Let's see." He looked at the ceiling. "I don't really care what color it is, but long hair for sure. And brown eyes."

"Brown?" Charlie turned around to him, interested. "Let's think who has brown eyes. Maybe we'll finally narrow down who Adam's got a radar for," he smiled at his friend.

Adam shook his head. "No, I guess I was just thinking..." he reached over for the bag of Frito's. "Shipley's girlfriend has big brown eyes, and they're kind of... hooded in the outer corners. Reminds me a little of chocolate drops," he added, thoughtfully.

He should have counted on the whole room cracking up the minute he said the last part.

"Oooh, 'chocolate drops.'" Tyler tossed his dirty overshirt at Adam. "Banksie's a romantic, you guys. Come on, we always knew it!"

Adam caught the shirt, smirking as he threw it back.

"Whoa, whoa. You got your eye on Shipley's girl?" Luis's eyes went wide. "That the latest play you've got against the Rockets?"

"Well here's the question, when did you ever see Shipley's girl up close?" Goldberg inquired.

Adam shrugged. "She volunteers at a cat shelter. I had to take a couple of them over there after they were left at my dad's rental property on Green Street. I just recognized her."

"You been talking to Max Shipley's girlfriend?" Fulton was incredulous.

"No! I just said she has nice eyes. Jeez," Adam replied, feeling mildly defensive for some reason. "And by the way, her name's Lacey."

Averman whistled. "Classy."

"She is pretty," Guy remarked. "Can't deny it, even if she is a Rocket groupie."

"Yeah, we'll be sure to tell Connie you said so," Portman chuckled. "But nah, nah, I hear you. Nice full lips, too. Like, just enough."

"Alright, alright," Adam smirked again, trying to ignore that last part. "Averman? Let's hear yours."

Not that Adam didn't legitimately want to hear what kind of girl Averman might like -- it was bound to be entertaining -- but his thoughts turned inward. Obviously he wouldn't make a play for Lacey, but even just thinking about it for a minute was a little disconcerting.

And this was why Adam didn't date or allow himself to even think very seriously about it. Everything he had was going toward being good enough for the NHL draft.  And that meant no distractions. Plus, what Travis had always told him might be right, even though he hated hearing it:  when it came to girls, Adam was a little shy. He wouldn't know exactly how to go about pursuing one. Charlie had done a much better job of this with Linda, and he'd felt a little envious at the time.

But no reason to think about all that right now. Lacey Primmer was just another pretty face, and not his. Meanwhile, it was time for bed... and the IcyHot he'd filched from his mom's medicine cabinet. She didn't use it anymore, so he didn't feel too guilty.

He had been out of Percocets for days, even though he'd tried hard to ration them. The next few days, he'd have to do whatever it took to roll out of bed and move normally, despite the constant, agonizing pain that had overtaken his entire body like a cancer.

#adam banks #mighty ducks #trichotillomania #1990s nostalgia

[queenofheaven82]

PART III - Abandoned

Lacey folded her arms, shivering under Max's letter jacket which was draped over her shoulders. She tried to make as many of his games as she could, even when she had to bring her homework with her. For all Max's faults, she knew his hockey playing had little support at home -- his dad had preferred he'd played football -- so she tried to encourage him.

Looking up every so often from Twentieth Century in the U.S., she would spot his number sixty-four on the ice. He skated across the rink at a dizzying speed, skillfully guiding the puck when it came to him. Hockey always looked so easy to play from this vantage point.

But as good a player as Max was, there were two people who thwarted him when he played against Eden Hall: the Ducks goalie, Julie "The Cat" Gaffney and, of course, Banks. Banks was twice as fast as Max, and Lacey noticed the way he sailed alongside Max almost menacingly, usually managing to finagle the puck away. He was deft at dodging defense and was completely unafraid of engaging guys that were bigger than him.

However, something was different tonight. Adam skated more slowly than usual, and each tackle against the wall he took seemed to take him longer to recover from. Finally -- for the first time Lacey had ever seen -- Coach Orion benched him. She could tell Adam was not happy. He took off his gloves and slammed them down on the bench, pacing restlessly until Coach Orion came over and uttered what looked to Lacey like a few harsh words, but followed it with a hand on the young man's shoulder. As little as Lacey knew about hockey, she had to admit, Coach Orion seemed good for the Ducks. He had begun as their JV coach a few years ago, but it became very apparent the team's bond was unbreakable, and Coach Orion moved up to Varsity with the team he had become so proud of -- the Mighty Ducks.

Lacey felt a little guilty paying more attention to Adam than Max during the game, but she was still trying to figure him out. She knew that as a twelve-year-old she'd probably been naive to put the boy on a pedestal simply because he'd offered his scarf when her nails were bleeding. But at the time, it had been the kindest thing a peer had done for her in a long time. As much of a hardball as Mr. Banks was, Adam surely was raised right on some level. The small, seemingly insignificant act showed he had compassion.

But did she really know anything else about him? Not exactly. He seemed quiet and somewhat serious, but she never saw him outside of hockey games. Yet his actions at the party indicated to her that he wasn't anything special. Just a guy, a good hockey player. Yet still, she struggled to keep her focus away from his strong presence when he was close by.

What was wrong with her? She added her recent fascination with Adam to the mental list she was keeping of ways she seemed to be changing lately. The culprit had to be senior year. Her mom had warned her about this -- the change in priorities, in interests, and the confusion about life in general.

Soon the game ended without Adam ever getting a chance to go back on the ice. Without his toughest competition, Max soared, his success only hampered by Gaffney. In the end the Ducks won anyway, but Max seemed quite full of himself for the goals he'd scored.

It usually took awhile for Max to take off all his padding and gear and then get a shower, and Lacey was tired of sitting on the bleachers, so she made her way into the frigid night air, tossed her history book in the back of Max's newly repaired car and decided to walk around the campus of Eden Hall for awhile.

The buildings stood tall and proud, covered with ivy in places with huge, well-lit walkways and flowers blooming on either side of her. What would it be like to go to school at this place? To have money and influence at all?

Lacey's mind wandered as she strolled along, trying not to venture too far from the car so she would be able to tell when Max was ready to go, but she had to fight the urge to explore every square inch of this place. She saw a fountain in the center of a nearby courtyard, closed down for the winter, but she could just imagine how beautiful it would be in the summer sunlight.

"Um, excuse me!"

Lacey was jarred from her tranquility by the sound of footsteps running up behind her. She couldn't see well enough, even by the streetlamps, to identify the girl, but her voice was friendly enough.

"I think you might have dropped this." As the girl approached, she held out a pink and purple koosh ball, half the rubber strands missing from it.

Lacey's face felt hot as she reached out and grabbed the ball quickly. "Oh, it's... my little sister's," she forced a smile. "Thank you. I guess it fell out of my bag. I was keeping it for her..." She tucked it quickly into her purse as far down to the bottom as possible.

"Oh, you have a little sister?" the girl beamed. "I do too, back in Bangor. I miss her like crazy, being this far away."

Feeling responsible to be at least a little friendly given how abrupt she was in retrieving the koosh ball, Lacey forced a pleasant tone. "You're here from Bangor, Maine?"

The girl nodded, holding out her hand. "Julie Gaffney."

Lacey's brows shot up in surprise. The goalie for the Ducks? She'd never seen Julie before in person, underneath all the pads and face shields. She wasn't sure what she'd imagined Julie to be like, but certainly not like this: normal and friendly with long braided hair and a sweet, girl-next-door face.

"Lacey Primmer," Lacey returned the introduction.

"Are you a student here?"

"Oh, no, I'm... we're from R.M. High. My boyfriend Max and I," Lacey replied.

"Max Shipley?"

"The very one," Lacey chuckled.

"Oh gosh, no kidding!  First line center for the Rockets." It was Julie's turn to raise her brows. "He's really good! Stiff competition."

Lacey nodded, smiling. "Yeah, hockey's his life."

"I'm just as guilty," Julie grinned. "Since I was old enough to skate. So, have you ever played?"

Lacey shook her head. "I'm no good on ice, or skates at all, actually. But it is pretty fascinating to watch you guys."

"Yeah, it's fun," Julie sighed fondly. "That's something Coach Bombay really taught us back in the day -- have fun, above all else. It is just a little nice to win, though" she chuckled. I almost thought we weren't going to pull out, though, when Adam was benched."

Lacey opened her mouth, wanting to... say something? Ask something?

"He seemed to be hurting," she blurted out. "Does he have an injury?"

Julie took a deep breath and shrugged. "Honestly, nobody can figure out what's wrong with him lately. Something's definitely changed, but he's keeping mum. Of course though, that's Adam. He keeps it all locked down tight, if you know what I mean. Probably just how he was raised. Keep a stiff upper lip, that kind of thing."

Lacey nodded, thinking back to the party.

"You know Adam, too?" Julie asked.

"Not really," Lacey replied. "I mean, I've seen him around at parties I've gone to with Max..."

She declined to specify that she meant only one party.

Julie giggled. "He catches eyes, for sure. Handsome guy."

"Oh, I don't mean it that way," Lacey cut in quickly, letting out a short laugh. "He's just, you know, this supposed legend. He commands a room when he comes in, I guess 'cause people know he's the star of the Ducks."

Julie nodded. "The good thing about Adam, though, is that he's all about hockey, not really the glory. I know all jocks say that stuff, but it's really true with him. He stays totally focused on the game. I mean, when he cheers after making a goal, it's because he's just happy he made it."

Lacey nodded again, thoughtfully.

Julie rubbed her hands briskly, wrapping her scarf around her more tightly. "Well, it was nice meeting you! I'm glad I could give you back your sister's koosh."

"Yeah, she'd really miss it," Lacey smiled. "Thank you. Maybe I'll see you at the next game."

Julie laughed. "Sure, that would be cool. It's good to know Shipley's girlfriend isn't a total snob."

Lacey returned a light laugh. "Right. Well... take care, and good game."

As Julie walked away, Lacey felt warmed to the soul. It had been so long since she and another girl had had a good conversation. But Max was out of the locker room now and making his way to his car, looking around in the dark for her.

"I'm here," she jogged back to him. "Good job tonight, Babe." She went around to the driver side and gave him a long kiss.

"I know," he grinned when she pulled back. "Here." He opened the door and she jumped in and scooted over to the passenger side.

"I'm glad you got your car fixed, by the way."

Max snorted, getting in after her. "Yeah no shit."

They rode in silence awhile.

"Max?"

"Yeah?" he reached out and slung his arm around her shoulders.

"What do you think will happen after we graduate?" Lacey let the words drop.

"What do you mean?" he glanced over for a second as he steered the car out of the parking lot.

"I just... I mean, I don't know. You're going to be going off to Minnesota State on a scholarship, and I'm just... going to be here."

"Yup. Good ol' community college," he chuckled.

Lacey felt a stab in her chest. "Max, you know that wasn't my choice."

"Then don't do it. Why would you ever want to stay in this place? I mean get out, see the world! Come to State with me."

"You know it's not that simple," she let out a deep breath. "I've tried financial aid six ways to Sunday, but somehow I still don't qualify... and then there's Mom."

"Your Mom will be fine, Lacey, God. She's got Stuart. Aren't they ever getting married?"

"I have no idea. But until then, if that even happens, she needs me to work, help her with the rent and utilities. You know how Phil Banks is about his stupid rent. No grace periods for us..."

Max snorted. "Well yeah, what do you expect out of a Banks? Ruthless assholes. Anyway, if that's what you wanna do, I mean whatever. But Lacey, I gotta be honest."

Lacey inconspicuously reached into her purse to squeeze her koosh.

"I don't know if I can do the long distance thing. It might be nice to find some girls to just talk to at school, you know? Not that I'd forget you, of course," he added quickly. "I wouldn't take anyone seriously, just... I don't want to get too lonely from missing you," he tightened his arm across her shoulders.

Lacey paused a moment, trying to register the emotions spilling in through her head. "So in other words... you want to date other girls because you just can't be alone. From the sound of it, we may as well just break up before college, am I right?"

"Oh, hey, no!" Max answered quickly. "I mean... we could maybe take a break and stuff, but I wouldn't just dump ya," he laughed light-heartedly as though they were talking about which gallon of ice cream to buy at the grocery store.

"Well, thank you for that," Lacey smiled sarcastically.

It completely went over Max's head. "You're welcome, Babe."

The next words came out of Lacey's mouth before she could stop them -- a bad habit she was adopting lately. "Then Max, I don't know if I want to give myself to you at prom. I mean, if we're not more serious than we are, why should I?"

The thing was, Lacey said these things and meant them, but she wasn't necessarily sad about any of it. It was feeling to her more and more like she and Max had run their course. So why keep putting off this talk?

At the letdown she just issued, Max stiffened. "I thought you wanted to, Lacey. I mean, you told me you did, and... it's just sex, right? Not like it really means all that much, even if I do go off to school and we decide to take a break. It'll be a good time, we can experience it for the first time together, so... why not?" He shrugged and glanced over, but his face betrayed the fact that he knew he'd messed up with his flippancy.

"Oh, okay. Well it's good to know you're keeping it casual," Lacey murmured. Not wanting to continue this talk, she reached down and turned up The Verve's depressing The Freshman. She despised this song normally, but right now, she just wanted to drown out anything else Max might say. At this point, given each of their personal resentments, it would be a miracle if their relationship even made it to prom.

******************************************************************************************

For a couple weeks, Lacey was plagued by hers and Max's discussion, which seriously affected how much attention she paid at school. Her focus even suffered in British literature, her favorite class. And as much as she was able, she avoided Max. It wasn't hard, because semi-playoffs would be coming up and he was busy with extra practices.

One Monday a few weeks into November, Lacey was due at the Cat's Cradle a little early in order to cover for an absent employee. She made sure to hurry down the school steps as quickly as she could to avoid running into Max just in case he didn't have practice, and skirted down the back alleys in order to get to the shelter as inconspicuously as possible. Not that it mattered -- Max knew where she was sure to be on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.

She burst through the shelter doors which had been recently painted into a cat-shaped stained glass effect, and slung her bookbag down in the customary corner, giving a big smile to Alice. "Hey Alice. We have any new ones today?"

Alice's brow furrowed. "That was a little abrupt an entrance, Lacey. Was it a difficult day at school?"

"Oh, not really," she replied quickly. "I just wanted to come check on Stella. Is she getting along any better since last Thursday?"

Alice led Lacey to the kennels in the back room, opening one on the upper row. A dainty looking, long-limbed, yellow cat -- small to be two years old -- began to stir, rousting from a nap. In just a few seconds she was on her feet, nuzzling Lacey's hand for attention.

"Hello, Sweet Girl," Lacey cooed. "Have we found a forever home for you, yet?"

"Not yet I'm afraid," Alice sighed. "Everyone always wants the kittens."

"But she almost looks like a kitten," Lacey protested. "And she's so affectionate and easy-going."

"Well do remember, Dear, cats go less quickly than dogs do. Dogs are usually what's preferred. But people don't often recognize the virtues of cats. These beauties deserve to at least be loved and cherished, don't they?"

"Yes... they do." Lacey cradled Stella like a baby, as she was one of the few cats who would let her do this. "I'd still give anything if I could have one of my own."

At that moment the tinkling of the front door bell sounded. Hilda, Alice's grumpy associate, was up front today, but despite the dour-faced older lady's brusque mannerisms, she would be able to handle whatever was happening, so Lacey stayed put. This would either be someone wanting to adopt or drop off -- the second of which always broke Lacey's heart.

Alice had moved on to the next kennel, replacing food and water for pompous and wiley Sir George, while Lacey continued to nestle the purring Stella. "Someone will come for you soon," she whispered, giving the cat's forehead a quick kiss.

That's when Lacey heard a tiny chorus of mews coming from the front room.

"So you're dropping off?" she heard Hilda's low, no-nonsense voice.

"Guess so," Lacey heard a young man answer. "We-- well, I-- found these while I was checking on one of our rental properties this afternoon. They were laying in a box, just left behind by the family, so..."

She heard Hilda huff. "The things people do. Did they seem in distress? When were they last fed, do you know any of that?"

"... Not really," she heard the strikingly familiar voice reply. "My dad usually says call the pound when this happens, but... they're kittens, and I just thought maybe a shelter might be better..."

Unable to help herself, Lacey carried Stella with her and went up front to take a look at the new kittens. But before she was able to see them in their box, she saw none other than Adam Banks standing beside it.

Of course. His dad did own rental properties on this side of town. She would know, because she lived in one.

Adam lifted his eyes to meet hers and he froze. Lacey was pretty sure this was due to her being the bearer of his big pill secret, so she averted her eyes and looked toward the cardboard box.

Hilda sighed. "I see you didn't put a blanket or towel in here for them."

Adam shifted and opened his mouth to say something, but Hilda waved him off.

"Nevermind, you brought them here at least. I wonder how long it's been since they've eaten."

Lacey looked over Hilda's shoulders and saw two of the most beautiful calico kittens she'd ever seen. One was long-haired, the other medium-haired. They were walking shakily around the box, mewing no doubt in protest at being unable to find their mother.

"I... don't know. I'm not sure if the tenants took the mom... or what." Adam looked awkward, but concerned as he peered into the box.

"Alright, well..." Hilda clucked her tongue. "Lacey, will you get bottles ready? These little ones need full bellies."

Lacey glanced at Adam once more before going to the refrigerator in the breakroom and taking out the kitten formula, warming it in the microwave slightly before ensuring there were no hotspots, and bringing the bottles back out. She was surprised to see that Adam was still standing there, watching the kittens.

Alice came around the corner just then. "Hilda, Tippy didn't quite make it to the litter box again, and I've got to feed Rainbow. Can you help me out?"

Hilda took one of the bottles and pushed it toward Adam. "While you're here, might as well make use of you. Here, feed one of them." And with that, she bustled away.

Adam blinked, looking at the bottle for a minute.

Lacey figured this meant she was to feed the other kitten, so she set Stella down on the counter for a moment and took the shorter-haired kitten, who had more black in her than the other predominantly orange one. "You take that one," she instructed Adam. He did so without complaining, and Lacey was surprised at how gently he maneuvered the kitten to where he could fit the bottle in its mouth.

Both the kittens took to the bottles so quickly Lacey was surprised. Usually it took a bit of coaxing. These babies must both have been hungry. They couldn't have been older than about three weeks old.

"So what are you doing here?" Adam spoke first, glancing up at her then back down at the kitten in his arms, not seeming to care that he was getting fur all over his denim jacket and nice green polo shirt.

"I volunteer three times a week," Lacey replied, not looking at him, but keeping her eyes trained on the kitten.

After a moment, he spoke again. "I'm not some addict. You can look at me, unless you think you're too good to."

She heard the irritation dripping from his voice, and finally looked up. "I saw the game between Eden Hall and R.M. a few weeks ago. You got benched. What was that all about?"

Adam looked back down at the kitten, shifting it in his arms when it seemed to become distracted from the nipple. "It's just... I..." he stammered, taking a deep breath. "Look, I'm not ready to talk about it, alright? Just know I'm not taking something to... enhance myself or whatever."

"I know that," Lacey replied quickly. "Percocet is for pain. So what hurts?"

Adam looked back up at her, eyebrows raised. "I don't even know you. So it's hardly something I'm going to tell you about. Why do you even care so much?"

Lacey was at a loss. Her kitten seemed to have drunk enough for now, and kept moving her head from the nipple, so she set the bottle down and lifted the kitten up, placing it against her heart and rubbing its soft fur. "Can a person not care just because they do?"

Adam studied her quietly for a moment. He had a bold stare, his eyes round, blue pools that held a million emotions, a thousand untold stories in them. Lacey was unable to shift her gaze, but finally he did, evidently satisfied with her response for the moment.

"What are they? Boys or girls?" Adam pulled his bottle back as well, setting it on the counter next to Lacey's.

"Calicos are almost always girls," she replied. "When a male calico is born, it's a mutation and they usually have something wrong with them, like blindness..." Lacey sighed. "I wonder why anyone would leave two kittens this young behind."

Adam shrugged, holding up his kitten and examining it as it mewed. He smiled at it, the first smile she'd seen out of Adam this close. Lacey felt a draft blow through her heart suddenly, but swallowed hard, willing it to go back down.

"I don't know. People leave lots of stuff behind. It's just a shame that that also includes living things."

"So you're doing your dad's dirty work now?" Lacey inquired.

Adam glanced back at her. "You know, my dad's not a monster. I don't know why people think that. It seems like people don't care much for businessmen, and definitely not landlords. But Dad's fair. He can't help it that people don't always keep up with their rent and it falls back on us to keep the utilities up. So sometimes, we just have to be..." he searched for a word.

"Ruthless," Lacey finished for him. "I happen to be one of your dad's tenants. Well, my mom and I, and my sisters. And my mom can't always be prompt with rent. But she tries really hard, and sometimes she just needs a little mercy."

Adam looked over at her and stared for a moment. Her heart began to hammer.

"Do I know you?" he finally asked. "I mean from somewhere other than you being Shipley's girlfriend?"

Lacey took a deep breath, going behind the counter to find a blanket to put in the box for the kittens while they awaited a kennel. "Yeah... you do. Or did, kind of," she murmured.

Adam looked at her more closely. She felt her cheeks burn when she glanced up again. His sharp browline furrowed in thought.

"I'm... Lacey Primmer," she breathed. "I met you years ago when you played for the Hawks. Your dad was hassling my mom in the rink parking lot over rent, and... I was biting my nails." She let the rest of the story unfold in his mind, and watched as the memory seemed to flit through his eyes momentarily. "Oh... yeah. You bit them to bleeding, didn't you?"

Lacey took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I... I did. I have this condition where I..." she started, but stopped abruptly. "It was just a thing, but thankfully I've outgrown it."

Adam still watched her. "I think I handed you something to clean up with."

Lacey nodded again, turning back to the kittens. "I should take these two back to find a kennel."

Adam still stood there, looking back at the kittens, seeming content to let the conversation go. After all, it sounded like they both had secrets to keep.

"Do you give them names?"

"We do," Lacey replied. "Got any suggestions since you brought them in?"

"Ah I don't know," Adam chuckled. "Whatever you think, I guess."

"Come on!" Lacey smiled. "I want to hear what you'd come up with. NHL players?"

"Nah," Adam shrugged. "They're girls. Um... Violet and Veronica. How's that?" he gave a half-smile.

Lacey laughed. "Violet and Veronica? Really?"

Adam's face went serious. "Violet was my grandmother's name. She died last year."

Lacey paused. "Oh, I'm... I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

It was Adam's turn to break out into a laugh. "Sorry, couldn't resist. My grandma's name is Laura and she's living with her third husband in Florida. In perfect health. Violet and Veronica just popped into my head. What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing!" Lacey tried to resist the urge to slap his arm, but that would have been too familiar a gesture. "But gee were you ever about to make me feel like a first-class jerk."

"Nah, I don't think you're a jerk. I know plenty of those." Adam shifted, reaching in his pocket and pulling out keys. "Alright, well... guess they're in good hands. So I'd better get back." He turned to go, then paused and turned back to Lacey.

"Did you not know you were biting your nails that short? How could you not tell they were bleeding?" he asked.

"I..." Lacey paused. "I don't know, I just zoned out I guess. It was nothing new, but... I never got to thank you. For being nice."

Adam shrugged, his tone surprising her with its gentleness. "Anybody would have done that."

No they wouldn't. And they hadn't.

"Still. Thanks."

Adam gave a nod. "Yeah, okay. Take good care of them, all right?"

"Yeah," Lacey smiled. He smiled back, though glanced off before turning and going out the door.

Lacey bit her lip and watched after him before turning back and picking up the box holding Violet and Veronica.

#mighty ducks #adam banks #1990s nostalgia #trichotillomania

[queenofheaven82]

PART II - Butterfly Clips and Wallflowers

Fall 1997

    Lacey puckered as she painted her lips with Ravenous Red, pausing as she rubbed them together to survey the job she'd done on her hair in the mirror.  A crystal-clear butterfly clip held back a small blonde tress on each side of her head.  

Perfect.

"I could have done that for two dollars," she heard Ariel from behind her on the bed.  "And I could even have gotten them straight."

Lacey's brow furrowed as she leaned in to examine the clips closer.

"Psych!" Ariel giggled.  "They're fine."

Lacey sighed.  "I said you could stay in here for ten minutes, Ariel, and they're up.  So go find something to do."  

"I thought you wanted me to sit here all night and wait til Foolish Games comes on the radio so I could record it on the tape." 

"Right."  Lacey surveyed herself one more time in the mirror before standing up from her vanity.  "And you only get two dollars if I come back and find nothing out of place, you got it?"

Her little sister rolled over onto her back, sighing.  "I told you, I don't want any of your stuff.  And what time are you coming back?"

Lacey shrugged.  "We'll see."

The truth was, her mom had told her to be in by midnight.  But she knew her mother would be fast asleep by nine thirty, so what did it matter?

"You're really going to a party at Eden Hall?" another voice cut in from the doorway, a little higher than her sister's.  

Halen, the tattle-tail.  Hopefully she would be asleep by nine thirty, too.

"Not at Eden Hall, but at the house of an Eden Hall student."

"I thought they lived in dorms," Ariel piped up.

"Not all of them.  Some still live with their parents."

"Will there be drinking?" Halen whispered.

"No!  Of course not," Lacey lied.

"Are you going with Max?"

"Oh my gosh, guys, the questions!  Yes, with Max.  Who else?"

"Oh.  I just... well, I don't like him," Lacey's little sister wrinkled up her nose.  "He never smiles, and never talks to us."

"Plus he always wears those stupid sunglasses in the house," Ariel piped in.

"He's shy," Lacey defended.  "Something neither of you guys knows anything about."  She made chattering hand gestures at her sisters.  "Anyway, it's going to be cool.  No drinking, no smoking.  But I gotta go."

"You look like a Barbie doll," Halen beamed, following her down the hall. 

 

Lacey smirked.  "Make sure Ariel doesn't touch my stuff."

"Of course," Halen stared after Lacey as she opened and shut the front door quickly.  

    There was no point bothering Stuart and Mom with goodnights.  It would just waylay her, and she already felt irritable from the butterflies in her stomach.

    Getting invited to parties was nothing new to Lacey, but the illustrious Eden Hall invitation certainly was.  You weren't invited to their parties unless you really were someone, or were dating someone.  In Lacey's case, as high on the social ladder as she'd climbed since middle school, she still might have never been invited to an Eden Hall party were it not for dating Max.

    As much as Lacey hated to admit it, the twins were right about her boyfriend.  He wasn't terribly endearing, sometimes not even to her.  But he was hot and they had fun.  Wasn't that what it was about when you were in high school?

    Max played hockey for the Richard Mills High School Rockets -- the precinct's leading varsity team, bested only by Eden Hall's Mighty Ducks.  Max's ego typically kept him away from parties at the esteemed private school, but he'd finally accepted an invitation.  Who knew for what reason.  Lacey only hoped he wouldn't get drunk and start trouble with any of the rival hockey players who happened across him.

    Just as Lacey shut the door behind her, Max peeled around the curb and came to an abrupt halt in front of her house.  Lacey walked as quickly as platform heels in grass would allow, but stopped short just before jumping in the passenger side.

    Under the streetlight, she got a good look at the car he was driving -- a 1975 Lincoln Continental.  It was all she could do to keep from clenching her fists to feel her nails digging into her palms.

    "What?!" Max huffed.  "Not like I wanted to drive my brother's junker tonight.  Especially around all those rich pansies, but I need a new transmission.  If you don't wanna be seen in it, then--"

    "No... Max, it's fine," Lacey forced herself beyond the moment, reminding herself to breathe. "I thought I'd forgotten something, but nevermind."  Lacey forced herself to move, opening the door quickly and just jumping in.  She slid over beside Max, trying not to pay attention to the all-too-familiar dashboard or any of the rest of the interior. 

    Her nausea worsened in the face of the memories that were spilling in sideways.

    Mindfulness, Dr. Heffner had always emphasized.

    Lacey swallowed and took another deep breath, reaching out to adjust Max's A/C settings.  She had to have air even if she didn't want to touch any part of this car.

    You're sitting in Max's brother's car -- not His.  You're going to a party.  Stone Temple Pilots is on the radio, not Frankie Vallie.  You smell musty hockey gear, not cigarette smoke.  You're okay.  Open your eyes in 3... 2... 1...

"So where's Colin?  Wasn't he riding with us?" her eyes shot open and she attempted to re-engage, deflecting Max's curious glance.  Not that she enjoyed spending time with Max's dweeb of a friend, but she'd needed a quick escape.  

    Max looked over, grinned, then turned his eyes back to the road as they pulled out onto the freeway.  "I told 'im to ride with Todd tonight.  You and me need to talk."

    "Talk?" Lacey couldn't stop fidgeting and reached to turn the radio down.

    "Yeah.  About homecoming.  After the game.  You know..."

    Lacey sighed.  "Yeah.  I do know.  I know how quickly you forget that we discussed this, and I told you already that it isn't happening til prom."

    Max's hands tightened on the steering wheel tensely.  "Lacey, come on.  Tell me why homecoming is any different from prom."

    "It just is.  Prom's the last iconic thing before graduation, and besides:  you promised you'd never push me to do this."  Lacey used to blush when discussing with Max their big plan to lose their virginity to one another before they graduated.  But by now, she only felt annoyed when he mentioned it, which was alot.  

    "Hey, who had the idea about The Wisteria Inn?" he shot back.  "I believe the words used were 'I want the candles, I want the lingerie, I want the works, Max.'  Well, so that's all I'm trying to do here -- get it planned out for us, okay?  It's just, with graduation happening in the spring too and all, I mean don't you think it'll be less stress for us to plan to do it now?"

    Lacey could feel her face grow hot.  Sure, she'd romanticized the whole thing before, even though she'd talked to enough of her friends to know the first time was rarely that phenomenal.  But lately, her old words about the whole thing had just felt naive -- particularly after one of her own friends had recently dropped out of school, pregnant.  Did she really want to take a chance like that?  

    And with Max?

She and Max had met formally through Davy at a pre-game party at the beginning of last year's hockey season.  Lacey had worked hard the first two years of high school to completely reinvent herself, and she'd experienced a good measure of success.  She'd taken her hair from mousy brown to champagne blonde, had received a department store counter makeover, and updated her wardrobe piece-by-piece.  This was all funded by babysitting money she'd determined to spend on nothing else.  She had been so tired of being "Loosey Lacey" in middle school, especially after having borne the brunt of a particularly cruel prank by the boys in her eighth grade class, that she swore she would make them live to regret it.

    And she had.  She could feel the stares accumulating when she walked proudly by the lockers on the first day of her freshman year at R.M. High.  

    But being pretty and popular with the boys had come at a price:  the girls she'd come close to actually considering friends became so resentful of her transformation, so jealous of and angry at the new Lacey, that they'd walked away and never looked back.  Their sometimes-company at lunch and P.E. during those tumultuous middle school years was what Lacey missed the very most.  She was sorry that they didn't understand the sudden change, but she reasoned that they had no idea what it had been like for her all those years since The Thing that had happened in fourth grade, triggering a case of what Dr. Heffner had deemed "severe trichotillomania." It caused her to bite her nails until they bled, often when she was unaware, and pull giant chunks out of her hair during the night.  She'd also suffered from night terrors and blinding flashes of heat that she couldn't always disguise in front of the other kids.  So Lacey had finally decided that, however much she'd have to suffer in private, she would no longer allow herself to feel powerless in public.  And the confidence boost had worked, plus maybe the volunteer cat petting she did at the shelter twice a week.  She barely had the spells anymore, and when she did pull, she made as much of an effort to do it on the underside of her hair as possible.

    Loosey Lacey was on her way to being a thing of the past.  

    Meanwhile, in the midst of her loneliness, there was Max.  She'd been smitten at first with his tall, broad form and the way he smelled faintly of car grease from his dad's mechanic shop.  There were phone calls that lasted all night long, makeout sessions that fogged up the windows of his car, and weekend dates he'd gone out of his way to make romantic.  It had been on such a date that they'd first made their plan for prom night.  At that time, Lacey had still been infatuated enough with Max for giddy butterflies to hatch in her stomach at the very thought of experiencing one of the most important nights of her life with him.  But now...

    ... Well, she wasn't sure what had changed.  Was it his temper?  The arrogance and bravado that had once made him so irresistible, but now just made him seem obnoxious?  

    "Let's just talk about it later.  We don't have to have it all figured out tonight."

    Max sighed and mumbled, "Whatever."

    They drove for twenty minutes in silence until they reached the suburbs of Edina and were surrounded by houses so big and grand that if Lacey hadn't felt intimidated to be coming here before, she surely felt so now.  

    "The guy's name is Calloway, and his parents are out of town.  Todd knows him better than I do," Max finally spoke as they pulled up in front of a sprawling Mediterranean-style home, each and every room lit up from the outside.  Lacey could hear music as she emerged from the car, but it wasn't as loud as she'd expected, doubtlessly because no one would want the cops called on a boisterous house party being thrown by unsupervised teens.

    Once they got out of the car, she could practically feel the difference in the atmosphere.  The cars parked around them were mostly Masaratis and BMW's.  The kids who roamed the well-manicured lawn wore polo shirts and khakis or vests and sleek pencil skirts.

    We're not in Kansas anymore, Lacey unwittingly thought.  She glanced down at her own outfit -- a lavender peasant shirt with flared Levi's and platforms -- and suddenly felt self-conscious.  She reached up and fingered her choker, wishing she'd looked at her hair one more time in the rearview mirror of the car.

    "Hey."  Max slid an arm around her waist as they walked.  "You look good enough.  More than good.  Who you trying to impress, anyway?" he leaned in for a kiss as they approached the front door.  "Huh?"  He moved his face in close to her.

    Lacey gave a forced smile and obliged him quickly.

    "Oh," Max drew back when she did, looking disappointed.  "So that's all I'm gonna get?"

    "Lipstick," she reminded him, shifting the bag on her shoulder.  

    Max turned back to the door, letting out a noisy sigh.  Evidently she'd really put a damper on his spirits tonight.  She knew it for sure when, after he entered the house, he seemed to disappear into a sea of people almost immediately.

    Not that this was anything new.  Max regularly forsook her soon after entering a party to go hang out with his hockey buddies, but those were parties at their own school.  Lacey knew no one at Eden Hall, and therefore was left with nothing to do but stare around, being inadvertently pushed this way and that by the crowd that roamed through the darkened room carrying drinks and swaying drunkenly to The Notorious B.I.G.

    Of course, aside from not knowing anyone here, this precisely fit the template of every other high school party.  As Lacey wandered from one room to the next in search of Max, or at least a corner to duck into that wasn't taken up by couples making out, she saw all the familiar things: the red solo cups, the keg stands, the mini-skirts, the glittery eyeshadow...

    And suddenly she just felt bored.  

    When she'd been a freshman, a sophomore, she imagined the life she'd come to lead now as an upperclassman dating a hockey star to be the most glamorous thing a person could achieve.  But was it?  Why had she thought that?

    Even more disturbing to Lacey was, why was she suddenly thinking this way?  She was bored with Max, with parties... what would be next?

    Her mind began to drift toward her little sisters at home.  What if she just hitched a ride back there and played monopoly with them for the rest of the night?  The way Max had completely ditched her, he deserved to be abandoned like that.

    If she went now, she could--

    "Hey heeeey!" the drunk loser a couple of feet from her crossed the room in three giant, wobbly steps.  "Banksie!"

    Lacey rolled her eyes and started to turn away until she caught sight of who had just appeared in the doorway along with a handful of other people:  Adam Banks.

    Sure, she'd kept loose tabs on what he'd been up to the last few years.  He'd started playing for the Ducks when they were nothing more than an upstart team coached by a lawyer pulling community service.  His phenomenal talent was part of what had taken them from a losing track record to formidable competition.  Pretty soon, he was granted a hockey scholarship, along with the other Ducks, to play for the private school Eden Hall. That's the last Lacey had heard, but she could always recognize the strikingly large, blue, serious eyes that had stuck with her.

    "You finally came!" the boy who had approached Adam had swung an arm across his shoulders.  "Take a picture, folks!" 

Adam appeared to wince, then laugh and push the other boy's arm off. "You know I don't have time for this stuff.  Practice every night when there's no game, 5am on Fridays..." 

"Well you're here now, right?" 

Lacey studied Adam from several feet away, thinking about him and Max.  How could a person become so absorbed in and obsessed with a game?  Jocks were all alike.

She had to jar herself to come back to reality and finally turn away from Adam Banks.  N'Sync began blaring over the stereo system just a short distance from her, emitting a chorus of boos from some boys, and Lacey moved away quickly.  There were still times loud music or noises made her feel like reaching up and pulling out a fistful of her hair.  The sensation made her skin crawl.

Wandering into the kitchen, Lacey was offered a bottle of beer from a grinning guy pulling a new sixpack out of the fridge.  She took it, popping off the cap with the bottle opener on the counter.  From there, she wandered into the hallway, marveling at how quickly Max had apparently gotten lost.  She issued a plastic smile to a girl she knew from R.M. High coming out of a bedroom with a guy she'd never seen before.  

Feeling a little overwhelmed by the suffocating closeness of party guests, Lacey found a door to the outside and took it.  She stumbled out into the cool night air, taking a few deep breaths.  After her head managed to stop spinning, she found a stone bench in the garden to collapse onto.  Taking a few more sips of beer, she looked around and came to realize just how lonely she felt.  It wasn't Max's absence, necessarily.  She could actually feel her loneliest around him.  

To distract herself from the negativity train blazing through her mind, Lacey took her mind to the Cat's Cradle.  

She'd happened upon the cat shelter totally by accident one day while walking home from school a different way than usual.  She'd found herself strolling down a short strand of shops on a street she'd all but forgotten when she'd seen a woman outside writing with chalk on the stand-up sign.  As she came closer, she saw what was being written:  

"Three tabby kittens, 3mo, have shots."

She'd looked up at Lacey and smiled as though she'd known her for years. 

"What a pretty vest!"

"Oh... thank you."  Lacey glanced down, then back up.  "You have kittens?"  The question fell from her lips before she could stop it.  Looking over toward the shelter, she caught a couple pairs of feline eyes staring back at her through the window.

"Yes!  We sure do," the woman beamed, eyes crinkling in a way that reminded Lacey of warm grandmothers.  How she wished she'd known her own.  "Those are a couple of our more docile cats who aren't up for adoption.  We just let them roam around and welcome visitors.  That one's Fred," she pointed to a sprightly-looking cat with perked ears.  "Then there we have Gracie Mae."  The other was a grey, long-haired cat who blinked lazily at Lacey from her perch.

Lacey smiled at them, approaching the window and tapping very lightly with her fingernail in greeting.

"Do you have cats of your own?"

Lacey shook her head.  "My mom and little sisters are all allergic."

"Would you like to come in and see them?" the woman, who later introduced herself as Alice, inquired brightly.

Lacey began to walk home that way every day, occasionally stepping in to spend time with the cats kept there in large, roomy cages, and before she knew it she was spending at least an hour a couple of times a week in their presence until she was "officially" offered a volunteer position.

"They all need love, and a chance to get out and roam around, but there's only a couple of us on staff to give them those things.  Don't let cats fool you, Dear.  They're self-sufficient, but still affectionate and crave a good petting.  You'd be perfect.  Something tells me you need a little love yourself."

Lacey had wanted to protest this.  She was in no way lacking love or anything else, but still -- this could be fun, couldn't it?  And it was something all her own, the way Max had hockey and her mother had Stuart.

Soon, Lacey wished she could just live there at Cat's Cradle.  It helped her think a little less about herself, and it served to drive out the memories that still skulked along beside her everywhere she went.

Memories of Him -- and what had happened all those years ago that she couldn't forget.

    How had thinking about the shelter led to that again?  

Lacey began to take more frequent sips of beer without realizing it.  Before she knew it, she'd downed the entire bottle, and, unaccustomed to drinking much, she began to feel a little loose.  She knew her mother would never believe she occasionally drank beer at parties.  It wasn't something she even necessarily felt good about... it was honestly just something mindless to do while holding mindless conversations with mindless people.

After awhile she stood up again, feeling considerably more relaxed and ready to find Max. The promise of Monopoly with Ariel and Halen warmed her.

Close to the French doors leading from the garden back into the house, Lacey noticed a barrel she'd witnessed various people use as a garbage can.  She walked toward it and chucked her beer in the barrel before hearing the Wallflowers taking over the radio from the inside.  From the sound of it, the entire house was rocking out in almost one voice to "One Headlight."  It was a thunderous sound, and Lacey wasn't sure she wanted to be in the middle of it.  So she just stood next to the barrel and waited.

She stood there awhile, looking up at the starry sky, until she heard rustling on the other side of the hedge she was close to.  Beginning to back away, she stopped short hearing two voices she soon realized weren't aimed at her.

"Okay Banksie, show me what you got."

Banksie?  Adam Banks?

Lacey stood as still as she could, leaning closer to the hedge so she could hear the exchange above the din of the house party.  What followed was the muted sound of paper rustling.  It must have been money.

A laugh followed. "Oh yeah. Scoring dope for rich kids.  I've found my jam.  You know, if it's that bad, why don't you just smoke some pot?"

"Tried it," a testy voice replied hurriedly.  "It doesn't work.  Just give me the percocets."

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold onto your balls, dude.  Let me count these beans again."

"Oh come on, I brought exactly what you told me to."

"Here.  Twenty.  That enough until tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course," she heard Adam scoff.  "I'm not looking to get hooked on anything, I just need to keep the pain under control.  Coach is starting to put stuff together."

Surely this wasn't the Banks she was familiar with.

Only, of course it was.  The voice was the same she'd heard earlier when he'd entered the room,and "coach" was obviously a tie to hockey.

Lacey wrinkled up her nose, feeling disgust surge through her veins.  Adam Banks was a good guy -- she'd believed that from her youth. So what was he doing buying pills from some random dealer at a party?

And Percocets! 

So much for him turning out to be such a prince, such a variation from the average dumb jock she mostly encountered.  Lacey knew very little about street drugs, but she did know about Percocets.  She knew they were highly addictive pain pills that athletes were always trying to get ahold of for sports injuries.  This was apparently the situation here.

Hearing that the rave inside was over now, Lacey headed back for the French doors, but in her clumsiness, she accidentally kicked the trash barrels, causing each one of the glass bottles inside to rattle onto one another and make a noise that sounded ten times louder to her than it should have.  She froze.

"Hey!  Hey wait!" From around the other side of the hedge, Adam dashed out, eyes flashing at Lacey.  "What were you standing there?"

Lacey caught sight of a shady figure in a ballcap and a hoodie taking his opportunity to slink away behind Adam.

"As far as I know it's a party," she snapped back at him.  "Why shouldn't I be out here?  I was just throwing a bottle away before going back inside and I tripped.  How about you, what's your excuse?"

Adam was close enough now that even under the moonlight she could see the light dusting of boyish freckles across his nose.

He paused, blinking as though he was baking up a good excuse.  "I was just... I needed a little help with something, okay?"

His eyes grew wide.  "That's what you think this is?  I'm not addicted to anything.  I just needed a little-- wait, why am I even explaining this to you?  What's it your business?" he retorted.

"You mean like a little help with your addiction?" she mouthed off before she could stop herself.

His eyes grew wide.  "That's what you think this is?  I'm not addicted to anything.  I just needed a little-- wait, why am I even explaining this to you?  What's it your business?" he retorted.

"You tell me.  I was just leaving." she shrugged.

"Wait."  Adam swung around in front of her before she could get to the doors.  His demeanor seemed to have softened considerably.  "What can I do to buy your silence?  I'm sure you know I have money.  Really, I don't want anybody else finding out about this, it could tank--" he broke off for a moment, "... Everything.  You name your price."

Lacey frowned, remembering years ago how her mother warned her about people who thought everyone came with a price tag -- people like him and his dad.  "Sorry, this may come as a surprise to someone like you, but I'm not for sale."

"God," he closed his eyes, looking sickened.  When he opened them again, he looked fierce.  "I need you to tell no one about this, you hear?  No one.  Least of all Max."

She hesitated.  "You know Max?" words continued to fall from her mouth.  "I mean, of course you know Max, he plays center at R.M., but why would you think... I mean... do you know me?"

What if he had remembered her after all these years, despite their brief encounter?  And the dyed hair?  

Warmth filled Lacey's belly.  She'd never gotten to thank him, after all, for giving her that tiny boost of confidence at a time when she really needed it--

But clearly this wasn't the time.

"Max Shipley's girlfriend?" he was asking.  "Yeah.  Everybody knows that.  So just... don't tell him, alright?"

Lacey shook her head slowly. "It's your own business, so whatever. I'm not saying anything. But... just tell me, why are you doing this? You know those are highly addictive."

"Like I said, it doesn't matter," Adam's defensiveness returned. "Just forget you ever saw me. And besides, like you need to be drinking beer." He eyed the barrel full of bottles. "What are you, like sixteen?" But he pushed past her, not waiting for an answer.

"Almost eigh.... teen...." she called after him before sighing.

Okay, so what if he was right?

Only no, he wasn't! Beer might be illegal for her, but selling percocets was illegal for everyone, and for good reason!

"Hey Babe," a sunglassed figure lurched out at her from the French doors after Adam passed through to the inside. It was Max. "How you doin? Say, it's starting to get lame around here. Wanna go with Brandy and Todd to the lake?"

"Actually no," Lacey fixed her face. "I just want to go home. You can drop me off there on the way."

"What?! Ah, come on! Why not?"

"Because I'm not as drunk as you, that's why not. Max, it's October. In Minnesota. You'll freeze your asses off." Lacey wrapped her arms around herself just thinking about it.

Max stared at her for a long time, face falling. "Know what, Lacey? You're no fun anymore. Seventeen going on seventy. Whatever, let's go."

Lacey sighed and followed him, heading back through the house without taking the hand he held out to her as they walked.

Close to the front door, they passed Adam Banks. He was rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting around nervously. When they caught hers, he held the gaze for a moment, pleading silently.

She gave a tight nod, heading out the door.

#adam banks #mighty ducks #trichotillomania #1990s nostalgia

[queenofheaven82]

PART I -- Small Beginnings

This is dedicated to everyone who put their back into creating The Mighty Ducks franchise. From the first time I watched it as a ten-year-old girl, I was captivated. Thank you for whipping up the magic. I'm honored to be a part of spreading it by way of this fanfiction.

This is also for every young girl who struggles to do life every day. You are seen and loved.

***

A/N:  I'm choosing, for this story, to slightly alter the timeline to more closely reflect the actors' ages than what was presented in the films.  It never seemed accurate to me that they were ten, twelve and fourteen respectively when most of them were obviously at least sixteen by D3.  I realize this would skew the fact that in D3 they were still JV, but just work with me here and pretend it all worked out somehow. :)

Winter 1992

Twelve-year-old Lacey bit off a sliver of thumbnail and pushed back a stray lock of frizzy brown hair. The boys on skates, unrecognizable in all the padding and helmets, were filing out onto the ice, sailing hockey pucks back and forth to warm up before the game. The air was electric.

This was hockey, after all. The sport Minnesotians lived for, much to Lacey's chagrin. Hockey, to her, was just... hockey. Nothing special. Kids with sticks and pucks, hurting each other just to shoot something in a net. But her almost-stepbrother Davy played left wing for the illustrious Hawks, and that meant she could count on spending most Friday evenings at the rink.

It was going to be a long couple of hours, so she pulled out the Babysitter's Club book she'd stashed in her backpack, ignoring how her fingers throbbed from having bitten her nails too short again.

"Alright then!" Lanky Stuart plunked into the seat beside her, a stray piece of popcorn falling onto the page of her book and leaving a trail of grease as she shook it off. "Who ordered Milk Duds?" his cheerful, Scottish brogue boomed in her ears above the murmurs of the crowd. "Mum, was that you?" he reached across Lacey and her Mom snatched the Milk Duds quickly from her boyfriend.

"Thank God. And tell me you didn't forget the gummy bears."

Stuart handed them over with a flourish. "Not so. And I believe someone ordered peanut M&M's! Who could that be? Do you know, Lacey?"

Lacey looked up and gave Stuart a quick smile. "Thanks," she mumbled. She had ordered no such thing, but it was like Stuart to remember her favorite candy. She set the bag in her lap and continued to read.

"Come sit down!" she heard Hurricane Mom shout to the twins for the millionth time in a half hour. "Halen, don't make me come over there. Ariel, do you want gummies or not? Lacey, what are you doing?!" her mom turned to her, swatting her hand away from her mouth. "You'll start bleeding again!"

Lacey sighed and slipped her hand underneath her thigh to keep herself from biting more.

Her mom had been fun and easygoing once. She hadn't yelled, hadn't always had that line between her brows from worrying so much, and was always the first to join in when Stuart announced spontaneous dance parties in the living room, blaring his British pop cassettes.

But that was before everything had happened. The past two years had been very different.

The rink gave off a chill Lacey couldn't get warm against until Stuart placed his jacket across her shoulders. "Oh, are we back to Mary Anne now?" he reached over to look at her book cover. "She your favorite lass of them all?"

Lacey shook her head. "Dawn is."

"Dawn? The one from New York who eats junk food?"

Lacey cracked a smile. "You're mixing like three of them up."

"I could have sworn Dawn was the New Yorker. Oh, OH!" Stuart leapt to his feet suddenly, along with almost everyone around them. The hockey game was now well underway, and all around Lacey came shouts of "BANKS! BANKS! BANKS!"

She should have prepared herself for this outburst of cheering for the Hawks' star player, but Lacey was taken offguard and clapped her hands over her ears, heart racing. Clamping her eyes shut, she tried to do what Dr. Heffner had told her to do and imagine a meadow. With a creek, and fireflies circling her head. No, fairies. Better. They were each wearing pastel-colored dresses. And they were singing--

"BANKS! BANKS! BANKS!"

How she wished Adam Banks would just score already and people would stop shouting. What if she couldn't make it past this one?

The fairies suddenly morphed into angry bees that swarmed madly in her brain.

Lacey bent over to hold her head between her knees as she rocked gently, waiting for it to stop.

Just when she'd formed fistfuls of hair and prepared to jerk hard, a final cheer erupted, and the noise subsided.

"Uh oh. You okay, Baby?" she felt her mom's hands pulling her hair off her neck.

This was the mom she needed so desperately.

"Breathe. Breathe." her mom began to breathe with her as Lacey tried to fill her lungs deeply, keeping her eyes closed for a minute.

"Lacey? Gee, I'm...I'm sorry," she heard Stuart's voice.

"These games aren't good for her, I told you. Next time you can come watch Davy by yourself," her mom snapped.

"Sometimes she does loud noises just fine! How was I supposed to know?" he stood quickly. "You go ahead and take her home. I'll keep the twins and we'll finish watching Davy play."

"No I'm okay," Lacey finally managed to squeak. "It's fine now, I promise."

The panic was abating, but ever so slowly. Lacy tried to force it out by sheer will, but it was like trying to bail water out of a sinking ship with an eyedropper.

"Don't think about it," her mother cut in quickly. "For one thing, Dr. Heffner says be present in the moment. We're at Davy's hockey game, and you're reading a book. You get lost reading and then things startle you. Here." Lacey felt the book being pulled from her hands. "Did you pull any hair out this time?"

Her mom examined her hair, looking for the tell-tale signs.

"No, I didn't pull," Lacey answered, flushing in deep embarrassment. "Can we please just watch the game? I'm fine."

For the next hour, Lacey tried to focus her attention on Stuart's son, Davy, who played hockey for a league of rich kids called the Hawks. His mother, Stuart's ex-wife, lived in the right part of town to allow for it. But Davy mostly just "rode the bench" during games, a fact Stuart continually pointed out with annoyance.

"He almost made that last shot! Riley ought to give him another chance! He always takes him out early and replaces him with that McGill kid."

But time was almost up before they knew it, and Davy had secured only a precious few minutes on the ice.

Lacey wasn't sure what the point was in these weekly games. Davy never played, and the ending was always predictable -- the Hawks creamed the Cardinals 10-2.

The Hawks always won.

"Och, nearly made it! So close!" Stuart gave Davy's shoulder a fond squeeze on the way to the car. "Even closer than last time!"

"Almost doesn't count, though, Dad," Davy huffed. "Coach says one more game like I played today and I'll be on the bench for good.

"Well." Stuart noticeably forced a pleasant tone. "We'll just have to see about that. I'm not above tal--"

"Darlene Primmer?"

Lacey looked over and saw their landlord -- Mr. Philip Banks -- fast approaching, his son Adam, the big shiny Hawks superstar, on his heels. Her stomach sank. This meant her mom would stay in a sour mood for the rest of the night.

She looked up to catch her mom rolling her eyes. "Go on to the car, Stuart. Take the girls," her mom slowed her pace.

Stuart hesitated, taking a deep breath before gently tugging Davy's arm. "Ari... Halen, let's go. Lacey?"

But Lacey moved in closer to her mom to give Stuart the clue she wasn't leaving. Something must be wrong.

Mr. Banks caught up with them. "Hi. Hey there," he flashed a smooth smile toward her after greeting her mom. "I noticed I didn't receive anything in the mail this past week. We talked about this, Ms. Primmer, didn't we?" he reached up to tug at his collar. "I'm sorry to have to say this, but time's up. You're behind by two months."

Her mom let out a noisy breath. "Phil, I still need more time. Lacey's had some doctor bills and the twins needed school clothes. How am I supposed to do all this by myself? You told me you'd cut me a break when I needed it, and well, I need it now. Working in a warehouse makes me pennies, but you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Lacey forced herself to look over at Adam, embarrassed that her mom had mentioned the doctor bills. But Adam's eyes were averted, almost like she wasn't even worth looking at it.

Rich boy...

Mr. Banks crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "I've given you plenty of breaks already, Ms. Primmer. I need the rent this week, or I'll be forced to take this to court."

Lacey watched as her mom bit her lip but recovered quickly. "Then you'll have it. Whatever, just don't harass me and my kid out here in public, alright?"

"Whoa whoa, no one's harassing anyone here," Mr. Banks lifted his hands. "This doesn't need to go any further if you'll come through this week as I've asked you. You might consider asking... Stuart, is it?... isn't he your younger girls' father? Couldn't he help you out in a pinch?"

"That's none of your damn business, Phil," Lacey's mother's back stiffened. "But if you must know, I make my own way and pay for my own stuff. Stuart doesn't take care of me. I do it myself. So give me this week and I'll get it straightened out, yeah?"

Before Lacey realized it, her hand went back to her mouth. What would happen if her mother didn't make rent this week? They wouldn't have anywhere to go. They could go to Stuart's, but he only lived in a two-bedroom apartment. And anyway, why wouldn't her mom let Stuart help them? He'd offered so many times. He'd even proposed more than once since Halen and Ariel had been born, but her mom was so stubborn in her refusal. Would she have to stop seeing Dr. Heffner? And what if it still didn't make any difference and her mom couldn't afford to live in their cheerful little townhouse any more? Would they be homeless and have to go eat at the soup kitchen around all those other people?

She wasn't sure how long Adam Banks had been staring at her, but when she realized it, she was immediately uncomfortable and wanted to run to the car.

"Do you know you're bleeding?"

Mr. Banks turned quickly around. "Son, I'm having a conversation. Go wait in the--"

"She's bleeding," Adam repeated to his father.

Lacey felt sick. She was doing it again.

She brought her hand down and saw that the last three fingernails of her right hand had been bitten down to the quick, and were indeed blooming blood. She suddenly noticed the coppery taste of it in her mouth.

Lacey panicked and tried to shove her hand quickly into her jeans pocket, but Adam was pulling the burgundy scarf from around his neck and pushing it toward her. "Here. You can use this."

She blinked, frozen to the spot and unable to reach for the scarf before her mother got there to it first.

"No thank you," her mom snapped, pushing Adam's hand with the scarf back toward him. She turned back to Mr. Banks. "My kid has problems handling stress, alright? Thanks a billion for setting her off."

Lacey limply allowed her mom to pull her hand up and away from her, presumably to keep the blood off her clothes. "I'll have your money this week." She took a step past a bewildered Mr. Banks. "Now leave us alone."

With that, she pulled Lacey back toward the building and the women's restroom to wash her hand off.

Lacey tried to look back toward Adam, feeling sorry she'd not been able to tell him thank you, but his dad was turning him away and they had begun the walk toward their car.

"M-Mom, it was nice of him to try to give me his scarf. You didn't have to be mean."

"I wasn't mean," her mother clipped. "I just wanted them to know we don't need their help. Lacey, people like that..." she could feel her mother trembling slightly with anger. "... They think they're God's gift to the world. And the rest of us low-lives should be grateful they let us breathe the same air. I mean, the man brought Stuart into this for God's sake! As if Stuart and my situation is any of his concern. I'm telling you, if--"

But Lacey was tuning her mother out.

She'd unwittingly bitten her nails down too low before in school, embarrassing herself royally when the blood began to pour down her fingers..

Fruit loops... Vampire... Flesh eater... Loosey Lacey...

Not once had anyone even offered her a Kleenex other than a teacher. So how could Adam be so bad if he'd tried to do something so nice for her?

Lacey thought about it all while her mother washed off her fingertips and wrapped them up in paper towels, never once pausing her tirade against the Bankses.

Finally, her heart dared to smile.

Stuart was one of the only people who was kind to her for no good reason, but he was a grownup. Now, someone her own age had been, too.

She didn't have to be so afraid all the time, did she?

#adam banks #mighty ducks #trichotillomania #young adult