Page 19 of Everything We Are

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I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her and wondering what she’s doing. I hate the fact I can’t get her out of my mind. And just when I think she’s gone from my thoughts, she walks by me on campus, not realizing I’m there. I may have ducked behind a tree a time or two, but only so I wouldn’t have to explain myself and so I could watch her freely without being accused of lurking. I’m beyond thankful we don’t have any classes together and Marty hasn’t mentioned her since I put the fear of God into him. I’m tempted to ask but there’s no point. I warned Marty and it would be foolish of me to bring her up.

My blades cut through the freshly-groomed ice. The arena is still dark. This is the benefit of sleeping in the locker room—I’m the first on the ice. This is the only time I feel at peace. It’s just me, my stick, the puck, and the cold surface I hope will provide me financial stability. Once I’m in the NHL, there is so much I’ll be able to do. I drop the puck and work my stick from side to side. I love the sound of my blades cutting into the ice. The whoosh excites me.

When I cross center line, I speed up and imagine the arena full of parents and students, cheering. I love the roar of the crowd when we score and hearing them chant NU over and over. I need for this season to start. I need to wear my uniform, hear the national anthem, and focus on winning. Losing is not an option. I want another National Championship. I need it.

The lights come on and I stop my pursuit to the goal. The coaching staff is out first, and they dump a bucket of pucks onto the ice. I skate over to the bench and stop just shy of the boards.

“Hey, Coach.” I rest my stick against the board and reach for my water. I’m not thirsty but I need to stay hydrated. One thing about not being at the house all the time is I’m scraping by when it comes to my fitness. It’s not like I can count on my mom to cook me anything decent. Her idea of a healthy meal is top ramen and hot dogs. Another reason I work so much, so there’s always food in the cupboard for Lacey.

“Rose,” Coach says. “I like seeing you on the ice early.”

“Thanks.”

“Make sure you stretch well.” He takes one last look at me and leaves. Until the season starts, he can’t coach us, but we still have a captain’s practice. It’s not required, but if you don’t show up, you better have a damn good explanation as to why. Work, studying—none of those matter—what matters is you’re on the ice and you’re getting better.

The guys start to come out of the locker room. As soon as they touch the ice, their sticks are down and they’re slapping a puck around. I start to stretch because Coach is right. I need to. My back is killing me, and I feel out of whack, which means I need to set a time with the trainer to get some stim. Everything feels tight and it’s a good way to get hurt.

“Hey man, Thea’s worried about you. Says you haven’t been eating the food she leaves you in the fridge.” Jude skates over and starts his stretching exercises next to me.

Dammit, I told her to stop.“She doesn’t need to worry.”

“Clearly, you don’t know my sister. She’s like a room mother or mother hen. I’m not sure which is worse. Regardless, she cares and wants us to eat right and all that sort of shit. So, eat her food.”

“I can’t afford to pay her for it.”

“There’s nothing to pay for. The money my parents are saving by having her live at the house, they’re giving to her to buy food. It’s the tradeoff. Eat the damn food, Ky. Unless you don’t like it. If that’s the case, just take your plate to your room and when she’s not looking, flush it.”

I laugh and shake my head. “She’s a good cook.”

“Yeah, she is, and she’s worried about you. So just . . . I don’t know, stop making her worry.” Jude’s words confuse me. He warned her to stay away from me, yet he wants me to put in an effort to please her. I know the situations aren’t even remotely the same, but still.

“Anyway,” he starts, “where ya been staying?”

“My room,” I state, but look at him questioningly.

“Liar. Devon, Nolan, and I know you haven’t been staying at the house. It’s been a few weeks, no Ky. Is it because of Thea?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

I look around to see who is listening. It’s just Jude and I in the corner and the others are either taking shots on goal or twirling around like ballerinas. When I’m captain, this type of shit won’t happen.

“There’s just a lot of shit going on at home. It’s hard to be in multiple places all the time. Hell, it’s hard to be me and then the person my mom needs me to be. She’s got some shit going on at the park and is probably going to lose her house, which doesn’t seem to faze her because she knows I’ll figure something out. She’s constantly drowning in debt, which again, doesn’t bother her because she expects me to sign some multi-million-dollar contract so I can bail her out.”

“I’m sorry, Ky.”

“I know,” I tell him. “I’m just trying to be the best out here, on the ice and in school. I wish a thousand times over I had gone away for school because then I wouldn’t have to deal with her, but then I’d be a wreck wondering if she paid her electric bill or has money for groceries.”

Jude sighs. Out of all my roommates, he’s the only who knows about my mom’s living situation and he’s the only one who has been to her house. I’d be embarrassed if my teammates showed up there and saw where we live.

The three captains whistle for practice to start. Jude pats me on the back and tells me everything will work out and to text his sister to let her know I’m still alive and breathing. It’s probably a good thing since the last time I saw her, she patched up the cuts on my face and put the miracle cream on my ribs. Thankfully, when I went and fought for money last week, I taped them up pretty good and didn’t sustain any damage. I have a career riding on the line for the grand I’m earning each time I let someone punch me.

When we’re done, I change and head to the trainer. He works on my back, kneading the knots away. Everything feels fine until he gets to my ribs.

“That’s a nasty bruise,” he says. “Did you take a bad hit?”

“Sort of,” I tell him. I can’t be honest. Hell, I haven’t even told my mom how I was able to pay her rent for next month. “Doesn’t hurt.” I lie and I hate it.


Tags: Darby Blake Romance