She sits up. Listen to me, Nellie. We’ve been friends ever since freshman year. I’ve watched everything that has gone down with your family, and I have to say, it’s the most toxic relationship I’ve ever seen. Your family keeps pulling all this shit on you, yet you bend over backwards to get them to love you. When are you going to accept that it’s not going to happen?
I look at Becks, then at Knudy and Woolly. All of them are nodding.
Becks continues. All the bad shit that’s happened to you lately is their fault. Your breakup with Mats—hell, the fact that you hated him in the first place. The apology you had to make to the men’s coach. And now you’re suspended from the team—exactly when we need you most.
Is this how my closest friends see me? As someone so desperate for family love that she fucks up her life?
Knudy reaches out to pat my arm. When I came out, my mother’s parents were so awful about it that I had to go no-contact. It was tough, and my mother still nags me about seeing my grandparents, but it was worth it for my own mental health.
I don’t want to go all therapist here, begins Becks (a total lie, because she studies psychology and likes nothing better than analyzing people), but have you ever noticed that you keep dating men just like your father? Smooth-talking, emotionally unavailable guys who are full of bullshit. And then—surprise, surprise—they disappoint you. When you go out with Mats, who’s a decent guy, you’re in shock, because he does things like come over when he says he will. He gives you flowers and compliments. That’s the fucking floor, babe. Your bar is set so low that a nice guy can pole vault over it.
I pull the blankets tighter around me. I miss Mats so much that my heart literally aches. He’s so much more than just a decent guy.
It’s up to you what you do with your family, Woolly says kindly. But you certainly don’t have to help them find solutions to a problem that’s hurt you so badly.
I nod. Everyone is completely in my corner here.
Knudy shakes her head. It felt like we had such a good chance this year. I’m going to have to stand on my head without you at the other end scoring goals.
Her compliment is double-edged, because I won’t be there to help my team. But Smitty’s playing really well now.
It was the one-two punch of having two scoring lines that made us tough to beat, Knudy complains.
Then something occurs to me. Yes, my own family sucks. But, ever since I’ve come to Monarch, my hockey family has been there for me. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve been so happy and successful here. I’ve had the love and support that I didn’t get at home.
I throw off the blankets; I’m not cold anymore. You know, part of me wishes I could go home for that family meeting. I would tell everyone what I really think.
You can borrow my car, Becks offers immediately.
What? You love that car, I protest. Becks’s Subaru Forester is her pride and joy. She keeps it immaculate.
It’s been my dream that you would tell off your fam. I’d even drive you, if I didn’t have an essay due tomorrow. Then she adds, But first, I’ll take you through all Subby’s idiosyncrasies. And you have to drive me around the block so I can make sure you’re worthy.
I pass Becks’s test, and off I go. I’m almost in Hillsboro when it hits me. It’s not that far from Monarch College. Just over an hour, even after driving only at the posted limits, as dictated by Becks. It’s such an easy drive that anyone in my family could have made it to see my games. They drive farther to go to events in Minnie.
When I called and told my mother I was coming, she didn’t even sound surprised. Of course good old Cleo will show up when her baby brother is in crisis.
The closer I get, the more nervous I am. I’m operating on pure adrenaline right now, but I know I’ll crash at some point. I need enough energy to power through this night and finally speak my truth to my family. Because right now, I’m letting down my hockey team, and they’re my real family. They’re the ones who propped me up tonight when I needed the support. My teammates and coaches know me better than my flesh-and-blood family does.
I pull up in front of my mother’s house. My dad’s truck is already parked in the driveway. I can hear the arguing voices the moment I open the door.
Sean, where exactly are we going to get the money to pay for this fancy lawyer? My mother’s voice has the high, tensed tone reserved for my dad’s crazy demands.
When it comes to the courts, you get what you pay for, my dad replies. He turns when I step into the dining room. Ahh, Clee. Good, good. The voice of reason is here.
The scene is so familiar, I feel a sense of déjà vu. My father at one end of the table, my mother at the other, and Jordan looking sullen in the middle. My place is opposite my brother, so I sit down there.
My mother greets me, and Jordan gives me a head nod. He looks awful, like he needs a shower, a shave, and a full night’s sleep. It’s pretty out of character for my brother, who cares a lot about his appearance. I’m almost happy to see him like this. Maybe he’s finally learned a lesson?
The argument continues, about some slick lawyer from Minneapolis that my father has found vs. my mother’s choice of a local firm.
Dad turns to me. What do you think, Clee?
I can tell that he’s counting on my support here; after all, I usually take his side.
I calmly suggest, Why don’t we pay for the lawyer with all the money Jordan made dealing drugs? He looks up and finally meets my eyes. I cock my head. How much do rich drug lords make, anyway?
Get serious, he answers, his lip curled.
