Eighteen, two hundred pounds, I gave my first to hockey star Beckett. Next day I heard him call me "good practice" before chasing the cheer captain. I took the pill, changed my flight, deleted him. Six months later, fifty pounds lighter, we met in Toronto. He stared, blocked my way, eyes red: "Ten years—you're throwing that away?" I smiled: "When you held her, did you think of me?" I walked into winter and never looked back.
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