My Hockey Alpha Neighbor

My parents don’t normally call me without scheduling out time to talk first. We have a good relationship, but we don’t speak press the that often considering how busy my schedule is. Could it be an emergency? I wonder. I quickly answer the call and phone to my ear.

“Hey, Mom,” I say cheerfully, trying to keep my voice steady despite the knot of anxiety in my stomach. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, Carrie, it’s good to hear your voice,” my mom’s voice crackles through the speaker. Despite the cute nickname she uses for me, her words are laden with concern. My worry only grows.

“You sound nervous. Did something happen?” I ask

I hear my father’s voice from the other side of the line, this time

you out,” he says. I huff. They’re always worrying about me, ever he you busy right now? We don’t want to stress

I’m the one who should be worrying about them.

“I’m not busy. Please tell me, you’re making me antsy,” I insist. My parents hesitate for a moment before diving in.

“Well… There’s this strange black car we keep seeing,” my mother begins. “We catch sight of it late at night. It’s never there during the day. It seemed a bit strange at first, but we mostly ignored it– people are always coming in and out of the neighborhood and all that.”

“That was how it started,” my dad continues. “But… Recently, we’ve been seeing… Shadows.”

“Shadows?” I echo. I can’t help but think about the strange photographer who was waiting for Aiden and I. I shudder.

“Yes, shadows!” My mother says “At night, we keep seeing movement in the yard. We thought it was some sort of wild animal, at first, but then it persisted. The other night, I realized that a man was sneaking around at the fringes of our yard. I can’t help but wonder if it’s been people like him all along-

My stomach twists with dread. “Do you think they’re paparazzi?” I ask. I find it’s easier to go along with Aiden’s typical explanation than to listen to my own instincts.

“We’re not sure,” my mom admits, “but it seems a bit… strange. The car doesn’t have any markings on it Plus, no one has approached us directly. All we have to go off of are vague glimpses late at night.”

My mind races as I think back to the man who had followed Aiden and I out of the party and the one who was waiting in our driveway. Could it be the same person? I wonder fearfully. Hell, could it be a group of people? Is someone really following us, and now they’re following my parents?

“Thank you for telling me,” I say. “Please stay safe. Maybe consider filing a police report. Definitely invest in a good security system.

“We’ll be alright, Carol,” my father reassures me. “We just wanted to let you know. This whole situation could start affecting

you, too.”

I hold my tongue as I feel the urge to tell them about my own experiences. I don’t need to frighten them more right now,

think.

“Of course,” I say quickly. “I’m going to talk to Aiden about all of this. We should talk more soon, okay?”

“Absolutely, my mom chimes in. “We love you, Carrie. Please take care, okay?”

“Okay,” 1 echo with a small smile. “Love you,

100.”

Thang up the phone with a mounting sense of dread. The next time Aiden has a break from practicing. I wave him down from the sidelines. As soon as he’s taken off his helmet I jump into the story of everything my parents had just told me.

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As I speak, Aiden’s brow furrows with frustration at the strangers at my parents’ home. His jaw clenches and unclenches.

“I should have reported that photographer to the police when I had the chance,” he mutters once I’ve finished, his voice tinged with regret. “Til look into it. Carol. I promise.”

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I shake my head, placing a hand on his arm in a gesture of reassurance. “It’s okay, Aiden,” I insist. “No one is hurt. Everything is okay. I just wanted to let you know for now, you need to focus on your match tomorrow and not let this distract you too

much.”

Aiden’s expression softens as he

ets my gaze, “Thanks, Carol, he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. He runs a hand over my arm lovingly. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mate.”

The day of the match finally arrives, and Aiden’s anticipation radiates off of him. The tension in the air is palpable as ready to head to the rink.

he gets

This match is the 18-to-8 elimination match for all teams in the region. It was hard to imagine eight entire teams being eliminated from the running in such a short period of time. If Aiden’s team loses, it will end before it can even begin.

1 try my hardest to distract him. The online reports that have been coming out aren’t exactly optimistic about the Statford Freeze’s chances. Plenty of pieces had already come out suggesting Aiden’s potential elimination.

The moment when Aiden needs to head to the rink finally arrives. He stands by the door, breathing in deeply as he hoists his equipment over his shoulder. He’s about to step out when I stop him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“Hey, I say softly, my voice filled with faith. “I know you can do this, Aiden. I know just how hard you’ve been working. It’s going to pay off, okay? I believe in you.”

Aiden’s eyes meet mine, his expression full of anxiety. As I speak, the tension in his shoulders slips away. All of his worries seem to melt away like magic. A smile tugs at his lips, gratitude shining in his eyes.

Just as quickly as happiness flashed across his face, hisyxpression freezes in place. His eyebrows raise, and a strange look sparks in his eyes. He almost looks uneasy.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“It’s probably nothing. It’s just…” His expression becomes pensive “Have you always been this good at comforting people?”

I blink. “Oh. I don’t know.” A bemused smile pulls at my lips. Thank you, I guess?”

Aiden studies me for a long moment. I tilt my head with confusion.

“Is everything alright, Aiden?” I ask, genuinely concerned. He shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s nothing,” he says. He pulls me into a tight hug. “Thank you, Carol. I’ll see you at the rink” He presses a kiss to my forehead and waves goodbye.

Aiden’s strange behavior gives me a sense of uncase. Maybe he just nervous about the game, I tell myself. As I get ready to head to the match myself, a voice in the back of my head tells the I know something more is happening.

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