“Shut up,” Sam said. “She’s been in Woodhaven for like five seconds. She’s not even unpacked.”
“I’m first in line, then!” He smacked the table. “Boom.”
“You’re ridiculous, Oliver,” Sam said, then she looked at me and held up her phone. “You should come out, Preach. Really.”
Her voice was quiet, not demanding, but I still felt the pressure. It was like I couldn’tnotdo something in this town without getting the third degree.
“I’ve seen you play hockey, man—we all have. You were amazing,” Mateo said, then grabbed Sam’s phone. “But this…dude. You were born to do this, too.”
A headache bloomed at the base of my skull. It didn’t escape me that Mateo had used the past tense to describe my hockey career.
My stomach clenched.
Yeah, I was pretty good at hockey. Not Brodie-caliber, but still. I’d gotten a scholarship; that meant something. But even more, I loved playing hockey.
I’d gotten my first pair of skates when I was three years old.
Spent about a million hours on the ice with a stick in my hand.
Hell, I’d nevernotplayed.
How could I exist without it? I wasn’t sure I could. Even with track filling the puck-size hole in my chest.
I shoved Mateo. “Let me out, man.”
The anger and sadness storming through me must have come through on my face, because his eyes widened and he jumped out of the booth. I scooted out and bolted toward the front door.
Born to run?Please. Hockey had always been my sport.Always. Track was a side note to stay in shape. Iwantedhockey.
I pushed through the front door, and the cool air smacked me across the face, my eyes instantly watering.
The hockey team was my family. Brodie, Teddy, Nathaniel, everyone. Even Pax. But they were all at the rink right now, playing a pickup game. A freaking pickup game that I should be playing. That Ineededto be playing.
Hockey was my life! Not track.
I spun and rammed my fist into the wall. Heat seared through my knuckles and up my forearm. I jumped back and kicked the bricks.
Memories of the state tourney flew through my mind. Images of my parents and Brodie’s little brother cheering us on, the respect and recognition I’d get all around town because I was on the hockey team.
And then images of my drunken night last night with Pax filtered in. I was drinking. Laughing. Falling down. I might have even kissed a girl last night. I didn’t remember.
I didn’t do shit like that. This wasn’t me.
“Damn it!” I yelled so loud my throat stung. “It’s not fucking fair!”
Grace pushed through the door and locked eyes with me, then with an even tone she stated, “I didn’t take you for someone who threw tantrums.”
“Excuse me?”
“And here I thought I’d seen it all, Preach. I mean, I know you can’t drive worth a damn.” She chuckled. “But punching walls and acting like a baby…that’s new.”
“You don’t know anything aboutanything,” I snapped.
“I know more than you think.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Preach this. Preach that. Preach’s perfect. Preach, Preach,Preach! You have so much going for you. But the first time life throws some shitty circumstances at you, you fall off the rails and you act like your entire world has been destroyed.”
“My entire lifehasbeen destroyed!”
She didn’t know shit. Her mom hadn’t gambled her college money away. She hadn’t lost her ticket to college. I pushed off the wall. She squared her shoulders, not backing down one bit.