A fter a long soak in the tub, Sylvie got ready for the day. No amount of soap or washing could clean her dirty mind. The more she thought about Martin watching her use her toy, the more turned on she became. A large part of her debated putting her vibrator back on to ease the tension, but she wanted Martin to use it with her. The image of him, pressing the device between her legs nearly sent her over the edge. She wanted to stare into his sultry green eyes the next time she came. That scared her as much as it excited her.

The guy was hotter than a Habanero pepper and just as likely to burn her. Since he started getting ice time, the numbers of women coming on to him had only increased. He wasn’t at a loss for options. It only added to her insecurities, making her believe he was out of her league.

She wasn’t sure she could handle being with Martin. His experience in the bedroom blew hers out of the water. She knew that after Marianne his numbers had multiplied tenfold. As his friend, she heard about his sexual exploits when she’d inquired about his love life. His exact number she didn’t know, nor did she want to know. When the numbers climbed with no signs of romantic attachments, she’d stopped asking. It had hurt her love drunk heart to know he was selling himself short. She had to admit that he’d been right to steer clear of love.

Renny had been her first and only lover. They were both virgins when they got together. He was two years older than her and they grew up together. As the years passed, he seemed less satisfied and talked more about other women. Comparing her and making her feel like she didn’t measure up. Whenever she suggested something unconventional or on the frisky side, he’d refuse. His rejections left her wondering about her abilities to please him. He never said that was his reason for leaving, but he left all the same. He moved on, discovering what different bodies felt like under him. It was time she did the same.

Martin was the obvious choice to help her get back in the saddle, so to speak. There was a chance he didn’t want her sexually, but she owed it to herself to find out. She doubted that she’d mistaken the sizzle between them. His cut and run behavior still confused her, but she knew deep down they’d be okay. If he turned her down, she’d survive and their friendship would endure. She wasn’t in love with him, and she had no intention of falling in love ever again. It would be about sex and nothing else.

First, she had to get through the day. The clown wig looked ridiculous as she caught sight of herself in the hall mirror. For the first time in ages, she found herself smiling as she laced her boots. Her mind and her heart weren’t consumed with sadness and that had everything to do with Martin. She couldn’t wait for him to come home. But she’d lost their silly game and had a job to do.

A quick search online gave her some points of interest in the city and she opted for a place called the Forks. She figured at the very least she could check out the market and snap pictures around the area. Martin couldn’t fault her for not trying and she planned out their next game. The stakes would be high.

She took the transit bus downtown which turned out to be far easier than she expected. The wig, she’d been forced to wear, earned her a few snickers from the driver and other travelers. It was cold out and by the time she arrived at the popular tourist destination her hands were numb. She cursed herself for not dressing for the conditions.

Inside the market was much warmer. The stores were busy given the early afternoon hour. The people earned their moniker, and she understood why they called it Friendly Manitoba. Everyone she spoke with was helpful and polite, and not a soul mentioned the colorful curls on her head. Several French speaking customers mingled around the shops, reminding her of home.

The scent and allure of mini donuts called to her sweet tooth after a few hours of walking. She bought a bag and found a nearby bench. “Mind if I sit here? Most of the tables are taken,” she asked.

The girl sniffled. “Free country.”

Sylvie turned to face her and noticed the tear stained cheeks. “Are you okay?”

The girl covered her face and sobbed. After a minute, she recovered enough to respond. “No, and I’m never going to be. My life is over!”

Those were the same words she’d told her mother when Renny left. “I don’t mean to intrude. Does this have anything to do with a relationship ending?”

The girl’s head snapped towards her and their eyes locked. Red rimmed, blue eyes searched hers. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been there. All too recently, in fact. Boy or girl?”

She wiped her eyes. “Stupid boy. Only he’s actually not dumb; he’s the smartest and best-looking guy in my class. I’ve loved him for so long. Oh my God. There is no point in living anymore.”

Sylvie wanted to laugh at the drama, but it wasn’t a laughing matter. Broken hearts sucked at any age. “Your life is only beginning. How old are you, fifteen or sixteen?”

“I’m fifteen and don’t say I don’t know what love is. My mom already tried that, and it only makes things worse. I had to get out of the house and away from her. She doesn’t get it. No one does.”

“I completely understand the need to get away. That’s why I’m here too. I don’t know your story, but I think you’re old enough to understand love. At fourteen, I fell in love, and I thought I’d love that same boy forever. Only, it turned out the love was one sided. You’re better off learning early on than waiting around for close to a decade to have your heart broken.” She tried to mask the bitterness but failed.

“Is that what happened to you? Some idiot dumped you only weeks before Valentine’s Day?”

She offered the girl a donut. “Worse. I had an elaborate Valentine’s Day wedding planned in my mind. Even bought the invitations. Except, instead of getting engaged at the start of summer like I thought; he broke up with me. He got a chance to finish his Master’s Degree abroad. Never asked me to come, but he told me he wanted to be free; take a break and explore other relationships. My stupid boy told me once he returned, we’d get back together, if it was meant to be. He needed time to decide if I was the one.”

“As if you’d wait for him, right?”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid. He moved out of our apartment and I couldn’t move on. It’s been months and today was the first day I didn’t want to cry.”

“What’s different about today? I’m Kimber, by the way.” She held out her hand, and they shook. Then Kimber stuffed another donut in her mouth.

Sylvie smiled, knowing the answer. “I like your name. I’m Sylvie. Today I finally realized I can do better. It’s his loss, and it’s time to move on. We were together for a long time and I didn’t know how to be without him. But being alone isn’t so bad. You will get over your boy one day. I don’t expect you to take a stranger’s word for it, but there are other boys who will catch your eye when you’re ready.” The right boy may be closer than expected.

“So, that’s the trick. Finding a new guy isn’t that easy for me. I’m not voluptuous like you. Boys aren’t exactly lining up to be with me and we have the Valentine’s dance coming up. I’ll be the only one without a boyfriend.”

“I’m not saying you need a new man to forget the old one. In fact, you’re better off without them at your age. You don’t need a date to have fun at dances. By going alone, you can dance with anyone and it may surprise you how full your night ends up being. My ex didn’t dance, not even at our proms. I sometimes wished he hadn’t come to all the dances, so I could have danced, instead of sitting on the sidelines watching. Kimber, you should dance and have fun. Don’t let that stupid boy stop you.”

“But you met someone. I can see it in your smile. That’s why you’re better now. Right?”

Sylvie sighed. Martin wasn’t the only reason she felt better. “I’m alone; there’s no new love interest in my life. My heart still hurts and that may never go away, but I am exploring new things and meeting new people. Like you, for instance.” She winked and Kimber smiled. The teenager had the cutest round face with dimples. “I am healing because instead of wallowing in the things I’ve lost, I’m focusing on the things I’m gaining. Life is full of new experiences, you can’t allow fear to stop you from trying.”

“New experiences,” she repeated. “Is that the reason you’re wearing a clown wig?”

She pulled her phone from her pocket. “As a matter of fact, it is. Speaking of this wig, I’m supposed to take pictures of myself, wearing it around the city. Mind if I take a picture of us together?”

The girl leaned in for the selfie and wiped her eyes though they were dry. “Sure.”

They smiled and Sylvie snapped a few shots of them making silly faces. Kimber laughed as they reviewed the images. Talking to someone about life after a breakup helped her realize there was life afterwards. Somehow this young kid had impacted her in a way she’d never know. “My friend will get a kick out of these pictures. Thanks.”

“Is this friend a guy? Someone you’re interested in?”

Sylvie laughed at the astuteness of the teen. “Martin is a guy. What makes you think I’m interested in him?

“The way you said friend and how your face lit up when you mentioned sending the pictures.”

“Oh. You’re a smart cookie, Kimber, but we’re just friends.” She tucked her phone in her pocket.

“You could be more. Take your own advice and try.”

“Well, it’s good to know you were listening. I have been thinking about it, but I’m not sure that would be a good idea. We’ve known each other since we were kids. He’s been the one male constant in my life and I’m afraid to lose that.”

“But if he’s always been there, maybe there’s a reason. My mom says boys and girls can’t be friends. There’s always more to it. You two could be destined to be together. That would be cool. You should totally tell him you like him and ask for a kiss.” Her face brightened as she doled out the advice.

“Sounds like you are feeling better. I’ll consider telling him, if you promise to go to that dance. Okay?” Sylvie offered the last donut to Kimber.

“That’s not fair. You’ll only consider it? No deal,” she said, grabbing the sugary confection.

Sylvie laughed. “You heard that. Well, I suppose it’s only fair if we both face our fears together. You go to the dance and I promise I’ll tell him I like him.”

“Hmm… You have to kiss him on the mouth.”

“Wow, you drive a hard bargain. But you’ve got a deal. Do you feel better, Kimber?”

“I do, though I’m not ready to face him at school. Maybe he’ll change his mind. Either way, it was really great meeting you. Thank you for listening and… you know.” Kimber stood up and dusted off the donut crumbs from her lap.

“My pleasure. You sure you’re okay to get home?”

“Yeah, the bus isn’t far.” The young girl laughed as she tightened her pink scarf. She had on a pair of matching mittens which Sylvie found cute. “While you’re in Winnipeg, you should check out a Jets game. We’ve got an awesome team this year.”

She smiled. “I plan on it. Merci for the tip and the conversation.”

“Cool. I guess I’ll be going to that dance by myself and see what happens. New experiences are waiting for me.” She grimaced, putting on her backpack which looked full and heavy.

Kimber’s fearlessness impressed her. She needed a dose of that if she had to kiss Martin. Why did she agree to something so crazy and how would she accomplish that? These thoughts rattled through her brain as they parted ways near the entrance to the market. A freezing blast of wind pushed her back as Kimber walked outside. She watched her walk towards the parking lot with her head lowered, shielding her face from the elements.

The teenager reminded her of herself at that age, only her first love hadn’t dumped her at fourteen. He’d waited until years later to plunge that knife. The hurt wore off little by little. Being in a new province and away from their life had opened her eyes. The relationship she had with Renny was comfortable but not sizzling. They both deserved more.

She kicked a pebble and noticed the laces on her boot were undone. After retying the laces, she looked back outside and Kimber was gone. A white truck pulled away and a pink mitten lay near the curb on the snow-covered ground. Kimber must have known the driver and taken a ride. A nice warm ride sounded good. Sylvie dreaded the cold bus ride back to the condo.

The sun had disappeared behind the clouds when she finally left the market. She grabbed a sandwich and some groceries to eat at home. When she arrived at the condo, she was frozen. She swiped a blanket from the hall closet and wrapped it around herself. A cup of tea helped warm her, and she was glad to be inside. She’d done as requested and sent Martin pictures throughout the day. The day was officially over, and she took one last photo of herself at the computer with the caption: Play time’s over.

She took off the wig and set it on the table. Her phone buzzed. Martin sent her a picture of himself half naked. Joe and Theo were scrunched in beside him in what looked to be a hot tub. He followed that up with a text message.

“Wish you were here, getting wet with me.”

How could she not turn that into something naughty? He partly got his wish because she was wet. That photo, his bare chest and wicked smile were enough to dampen her panties. She needed a distraction. Work always helped pass the time. She booted her laptop and checked emails.

The next time her phone vibrated it wasn’t Martin. Renny had some nerve calling her again. His calls weren’t welcomed anymore. She finally did what she should have done ages ago and blocked his number. She smiled as she set her phone aside and put the finishing touches on a client’s website. Another project completed, and she sent off the invoice. Making money while traveling was great.

It was after midnight when she retired to the couch and turned on the big screen TV. She flipped through the channels and sat up straighter when a picture of Kimber flashed across the screen. The news headline read missing. She turned up the volume.

The reporter looked down at their notes. “And has not been seen. If anyone has any information about this missing teen please call. Her family reported seeing her in the morning before school and say she has no history of running away. The school informed authorities she never made it to class. The police are asking for your help. If you’ve seen this girl, please contact the number on the screen.”

Sylvie raced to the table and grabbed her phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed the number. She followed the prompts for non-emergency issues. She pressed countless buttons until someone finally answered.

“Hi, has the missing girl been found yet? I was with her. Kimber… I mean, this afternoon at the Forks.”

“Okay, ma’am slow down and say that again, I couldn’t understand you with your accent. Please give me your name.”

She exhaled and tried again. “My name is Sylvie Lamont.” She spelled it out for the lady. “Has the missing girl on the news been found?”

“Unfortunately, not yet. Do you have information regarding her whereabouts?”

“Yes. I was with Kimber this afternoon at the downtown market. I can send you a photo. We shared mini donuts and talked about her boy problems. It was around three or four when she left to go home. I saw her walk in the parking lot towards the bus stop. I looked away and then she'd disappeared. There was a white truck. I think it was white. Do you think someone took her?”

“What is your relationship with the girl? Can you provide information about her state of mind?”

The questions made little sense, but she answered. “We met this afternoon. I don’t know her well; we shared a seat and got to talking. She was crying and sad about a recent breakup. But when she left, she was laughing and not crying anymore.”

“One moment,” the lady said. “Confirmed sighting this afternoon. The girl was fine. Another possible runaway or suicide.” She must have tried to cover the receiver because the words were muffled but Sylvie heard them.

“No! Kimber didn’t run away. She told me she was going home, and she planned to go to her school’s Valentine’s Day dance. Okay, she didn’t say those exact words. I don’t remember, but you have to believe me; this girl didn’t strike me as suicidal.”

“What is your profession ma’am?”

“I’m a website developer and online marketer. But after spending time with Kimber I didn’t get the feeling she planned to end her life. That makes little sense. Plus, her mitten was in the snow.” Sylvie smacked her forehead. She should have gone after the truck when she saw it there. “I saw a white truck leaving the parking lot. I’m sure it was a white four door older model truck.”

“Did you get the license plate?”

“No.” She deflated on the couch. The poor girl had been taken, and she was the last person to see her.

“I will ask you to recount the time you spent with her and try as best you can to provide as many details as possible. We are looking into all leads at the moment. But if she doesn’t want to be found then that makes our job tougher. Don’t go jumping to conclusions and thinking the worst. According to her parents, the girl emptied her savings drawer and there were clothes missing. Now, start from the beginning and tell me what time you met.” The police talked circles around her for another hour. They took her official statement and asked her to leave her contact information with them.

It was obvious based on Kimber’s mental state they didn’t suspect foul play. After hanging up, she texted Martin and told him she needed him and that she was scared. Not for herself, but for the young girl.

A moment later her phone rang, and she answered Martin’s call.

“Sylvie, what’s wrong? Your text said you’re frightened. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Well no, that’s not true. I’m freaked out because I’m positive I saw a young girl get abducted today, but the police won’t believe me.”

“Fuck. I’m here for you. Tell me everything.” His voice was groggy because she’d woken him.

She recounted her day and told him about her conversation with the cops. By the end she was shaking, and the blanket didn’t help. “What do I do? She’s only fifteen; she has an entire life to live.”

“You did the right thing calling the cops. The rest is up to them. They have more facts than you do. What you saw could be nothing; you don’t know that for sure. You said yourself, her bag was full, so there’s a chance she ran away. Try to get some sleep. Maybe you’ll have a new perspective in the morning.”

“I can’t sleep. I’m too wired, thinking about what could happen to that girl right now. It could have just as easily been me missing. What if I’d gone after her? I could’ve saved her.”

“Stop. You said the truck had pulled out of the lot already. You never would have stopped them and you’re not even sure she didn’t go willingly with whoever drove the truck. Don’t beat yourself up about what-if’s. If the police think she ran away, then there’s a good chance she did. Please try to calm down.”

Listening to Martin’s logic helped her calm down. “Your voice helps. I’m sorry I woke you with this, but I—”

“Close your eyes and let me tell you a story. Remember when we were kids, and you’d call me when you couldn’t sleep because your parents were fighting. Get into bed and I’ll keep you company until you fall asleep.”

She smiled, remembering those bad nights and how he helped her through them. His stories were always about hockey and she loved them. Her dad left when she was eleven and never came back. It had been rough, but Martin was there for her. Best friends helped each other through the good and the bad. “Thank you. Je t’aime pour toujours. Good night.” Sylvie crawled into his bed and closed her eyes.

“You too… Always. Sweet dreams, ma belle. The puck slid against the blade of the stick. With next to no backswing, this young girl sent it past the crease and scored against me. No one’s wrist shot is like yours Sylvie. Guys try hard to kill me with their slap shots, but no matter what they do, I’m not letting them in. I’ve been practicing with some lighting speed pucks. The faster they come, the quicker I shut them down. Last week, Montagne…”