Footsteps sounded as Mr. Johnson drew closer to me, peering down at the item in my hands.
“Ah. One of Ryan’s old skates. Still in good condition,” he mused. “Do you like playing hockey, Grayson?”
“Uh. I’ve never tried.” I turned the bright blue skate over in my hands. Would it… It looked like it might be my size.
Mr. Johnson gasped. “Never tried?”
Shaking my head, I glanced up at him. “No. I’ve been ice skating before, but I’ve never played hockey. Not ice hockey, anyway. I never had a chance to try. There were no facilities near me, so…” I trailed off with a shrug.
“In that case… If those skates fit you, they’re all yours. And I’ll speak to Ryan, see who we need to contact to get you on the ice. Your high school has a team, so why not see if you like it?”
When I laced up those boots and stepped onto the ice with a hockey stick clasped in my gloved hands, I felt at home in the USA for the first time. On the ice, everything else went quiet. It was just me, the stick, and the puck. And somehow, I had a natural talent for it.
All the times that my dad left me alone for work became easier to bear because I had this.Hockey. And I had a team with the same goal as me—to do our best and get the win out there on the ice, with the crowd cheering us on. I could throw myself into it, pushing my body to the limit and exhausting my mind as well as my muscles.
It was easier to ignore the loneliness when you had a sport to fill your time. Easier to convince your mind that everything was okay, that you weren’t missing out on anything.
I thought I was doing fine. I’d managed to paper over the cracks. My life was good. I had hockey, a team that depended on me, people who wanted to be with me, and even those who wanted tobeme.
Then there was a party at the lake, and every-fucking-thing fell apart.
8
GRAYSON
My phone buzzed in my hand, tearing me away from thoughts of my past. I gritted my teeth as my gaze flicked down to the screen. Part of me was still expecting another threatening text from an unknown number, but everything had been quiet.
Too fucking quiet.
I exhaled, seeing Micah’s name appear, and my heart rate increased for a whole different reason. A reason I didn’t want to think about right now.
Micah:
Are you free yet? We’re at Ava’s house
Tuning back into the meeting, I noticed my teammates were still discussing the video footage we’d already spent thirty minutes picking apart. It didn’t look as if we’d be done anytime soon, and as the captain, I couldn’t duck out early.
Me:
Stuck in this fucking meeting
My fingers pounded out another message before I could think it through.
Me:
Sometimes I wish I wasn’t the captain anymore
My eyes widened as I stared down at the message I’d written. Was that how I really felt?
Me:
Fuck. Forget I said that
I groaned, tipping my head back against the couch and rubbing at my brow.
“Gray? You okay?”
Rolling my head to face the Barracudas’ goalie, Smith, I jerked my head in acknowledgement. Shit. What were we doing? Oh yeah. Our upcoming game. I thought fast. “Yeah. Just thinking about the game. Levinsky’s good—one to watch, but he’s a fucking dirty player. We should use that to our advantage. Get Miller on him, get him pissed off enough to lash out.”
