“Ryan!”
Oh, that was Mom’s voice. Why was she on the ice?
“Wake up!”
I jolted up. I was in my room? How’d that happen?
“Are you sick?” Mom asked and pressed her wrist against my forehead. “You’re all sweaty. And you’re wearing your clothes from yesterday.”
My mouth was dry. Nasty-tasting like day-old eggs or something, jeez. What the heck happened? I slid my hand across my forehead and swallowed, searching for any bit of moisture I could find. I snagged my water bottle on the nightstand and drained it.
Felt like I’d run fifteen miles.
“What’s going on?” Mom sat at the edge of my bed, but I noticed a little bit of a slouch to her normally stick-straight posture.
“Nothing.”
“I’m thinking not, honey.” She rested her hand on my leg.
Dang, I wasn’t even under my covers. And my shoes were still on. Last night. Pax. Jack Daniels. Out in the woods. The last couple of days had been on repeat. Occasionally be “Good Preach” and do my community service with Grace, but then skip out of school early, drink, wake up with a major hangover.
Oh, crap.
Mom gave me her patented Mom look, and I had to turn away. One, because it was so freaking bright in here. Two, the worry I saw etched across her face cut me to the core.
“You’ve been MIA these last couple of days.”
“It’s fine, Mom,” I said, sitting up in my bed.
I wasn’t sure it was fine, though. But what should I say? I’d been out drinking with Pax and some of his friends from Twin River again last night?
“I’m not really sure what to do here, Ryan,” Mom said. Faint wrinkles creased her brow. “You haven’t been yourself since you got the news from the doctor. And the fact that it smells like alcohol in here doesn’t help, either.”
“I’m not in the mood to get a lecture fromyou, of all people,” I snarked. Really, what could either of my parents say about anything? They’d been lying to me, to everyone, for years.
Mom was a gambling addict and blew my college fund.
I was so screwed. Not only could I never play hockey again, I couldn’t even go to college if I wanted to. Unless I wanted to rack up some serious student loans.
So I’d gone out a couple nights this week and drank. Sure was better than my currently fucked-up reality.
My vision tilted and head pounded. Too many thoughts so early…
“Ryan, you better check your tone with me.”
I glared at her. Sure, I wasn’t the best at sneaking out, drinking, breaking the rules. I’d never done it before. How could I think I’d be good? But Mom and Dad…they were top notch when it came to deceit.
“You guys lied to me!”
“I know we did.” She audibly swallowed. “And I can’t tell you how sorry we are. How sorry I am.”
“Bullshit. I overheard Pax’s dad,Pax’sdad, talking about it. About you. That means everyone already knows or will soon.” Mom and Dad had sat Brodie down and told him what was happening after I drunkenly blurted it out in the back of my Jeep. Did he blab it?
No. He wouldn’t do that.
“It was bound to come out, Ryan. You know how small towns work.” She slouched. “I’m sorry you’re dealing with the backlash. But it does not give you the excuse to go out all night drinking, skipping school.”
“Why not? It’s not like I can go to college or ever play hockey again. What the hell am I supposed to do?”