All of a sudden, Duke and I were no longer trudging back and forth in the freezing cold to the Ice League… because we had a ride. Every day this week, Griff picked us up in his rusty, old truck with Nick smiling in the shotgun seat.
The only problem with this little arrangement was that without the walking, I completely forgot about my lack of practice driving, as well as the fact that come Saturday, I’d have to drive all the way toMinneapolis.
When Saturday arrived, I was a bundle of nerves as I loaded the car with all our stuff. Duke didn’t have games until Sunday, but his coaches never liked kids to sit through a long drive the same day as the games. I also didn’t want to drive in the dark, so I felt this afternoon would be the best time to leave… Not that I really wanted to leave in the first place…
I sat there all last night telling my parents not to worry about us and that I’d safely get us to the hotel… and, why the hell had I done that? Why did I always feel the need to dissipate everyone else’s worries except my own? It was probably because I knew how badly havinganxiety sucked– skating made me an expert in stress and I didn’t want anyone else to feel that way.
But seriously? Why was I this dumb? Why couldn’t I just say I hated driving and that I hadn’t touched the car they purchased for me on my seventeenth birthday since that night? Every day I kinda wished my dad would take it out for a spin and realize that the mile counter hadn’t changed. Then again, I didn’t want to let anyone down… I didn’t want to be a disappointment.
So, I woke up early, made some iced coffee and pretended everything was fine as I threw mine and Duke’s duffle bags into the new car in the garage.
But then I sat there staring at Duke’s bag with all his hockey stickers plastered all overit…
I would be fine if I was driving just myself.
But Duke…
I wanted him safe…
And if I crashed, it would be all my fault…
And-
I needed to stop thinking. I felt tears sting my eyes and a painful lump in my throat that I tried to swallow down as I shrunk to the ground and leaned up against the car.
“Oh no.” Duke breathed out a sigh and I turned to see him by the trunk of the car putting a hand to his forehead. “You can do this!” he said, in an effort to encourage me.
“I know.” I tried to keep my voice even as I spoke. I didn’t want to make him panic.
He puffed out his chest and looked to the sky, shaking his head. “Damnit. I wish I could drive.”
“Stop cursing,” I demanded through gritted teeth. “Mom’s going to kill me if she hears you talking like that.”
He looked at me glumly and slung his hockey bag down onto the driveway pavement. “Well, what are we supposed to do?”
“I’m sorry I’m scared, okay? I’ll handle it,” I said forcefully.
“Wow, you don’t sound too sure of yourself, Sister. I’m afraid you’re going to kill us,” he said with wide eyes. He pointed to his own chest. “I like being undead.”
I put my head on my knees. “Ugh! Why would you say that? Now I have even more scary ideas in my head and now I know you’d for sure blame me if anything happened!”
I felt Duke sit down beside me and pat the back of my head with his gloved hand. “Maybe we can ask Luke’s mom for a ride?” he asked. “We can skip it if we have to,” he said quietly, and I really appreciated that. I knew how badly he wanted to go and how much he hated missing anything hockey related.
“Is a knight in shining armor needed?”
I snapped my head in the direction of that voice… because the owner of that voice was supposed to be playing in a game in a half hour at the Ice League.
“Nick, no! You have a game!” I didnotwant to be the one responsible for him skipping and then getting benched… or worse– traded away.
He shrugged and effortlessly lifted Duke’s bag and threw it in the trunk.
“You Callahans are so needy,” he said with a lopsided smile while rubbing his hands together before blowing on them to heat them up. The kid was always freezing but never wore anything more than his light hockey warm-up jacket that had “Johns, #33” stitched overtop of his heart, and a hockey beanie.
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for not being at your game?” I asked him, still completely shocked at seeing his happy, carefree self in my driveway.
“Eh, life is short, they’ll get over it. You need me more,” he winked at me. “Besides, Griffy Boy can use some time to shine. Let’s get goin.”
Duke looked up at him in awe. “Thanks, man,” he said. He didn’t need any more explanation, he scrambled to his feet and quickly climbed into the backseat of the car before Nick could change his mind.
