Page 75 of The Penalty

I push up from my chair, and he reaches out to put a hand on my arm.

“Listen. You are coming home for thanksgiving, right?”

I’m studying my shoes again “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Cece. Please. I need you there. I can’t handle dad on my own. Please tell me you’ll come home.”

I sigh, knowing I owe him after what I’m doing, or rather, who I’m doing, behind his back.

“Fine.”

“Great. We’ll take soon. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And then he’s off, leaving me behind with my over-packed suitcase of lies and deceptions weighing me down.

Chapter 24

Perfect Line

Dev

The swishing of skatesclose behind pushes me to my limits. Blood rushing through my ears, I channel my inner speed skater, bending low and pushing hard to gain momentum and keep my advantage.

“Fuck yes!” I throw my hands in the air to celebrate my victory as Beau slides up beside me.

His face is red with exertion and the look of shock would be insulting if it wasn’t well earned. I’ve never beaten him in a sprint before, but after upping my training regime this summer, and putting extra emphasis on speed training, I finally did it.

“I can’t believe you fucking beat me. You beast.” He eyes me up and down.

“Maybe it’s not me,” I say, still smirking. “Maybe you’ve let yourself get soft. Don’t worry, it happens.”

I slide back as he shoves me, and then grab him in a headlock. “This may be the first time I’ve beaten you in the speed department, but I’ve always been able to take you in a fight. Don’t push me.”

“I’m not fucking soft, asshole!”

I shrug. “Want another round? Or maybe we should try a shootout. I’m pretty sure I could hit the back of the net more times than you, too. Make it a trifecta.”

His face hardens, and I can tell he’s thinking it over even if we’re getting low on time.

“We should really get back to the house. Do you really trust JJ to finish your dinner?”

“He’s got Grant to keep him in line. And Grant’s girlfriend is over too. She can handle a roast. But if you’re chicken, just say so.”

What’s the point of having a best friend if you don’t know all his buttons? A couple of cracks sound out as he stretches his neck from side to side.

“You’re on.”

This is my favorite time on the ice, and the best part of my job at the local public rink. It reminds me of all the time I spent at the one back home after I got into hockey. I’d sit in the stands to do my homework, work at the concession stand or the skate rental counter, but then I’d get the privilege of a gorgeous sheet of ice all to myself. The perfect deal. Sometimes I invite Beau or some of the other guys to join me. Sometimes I work my ass off on drills by myself.

“First to twenty.”

“Done.”

We skate around, dropping small cones all over the rink. Each shot will be progressively more difficult until we hit unhinged territory. We probably won’t even make it to try those impossible shots out, but we still set them up as usual. This is a game we’ve played before. The highest I’ve gotten before he hits twenty is fourteen. But this is another skill I’ve been practicing while he was busy working in some stuffy office over the summer break. “Heads or tails?” I hold out my lucky puck. It’s a Steelers puck I won when I was a kid, and it’s one of the things that I keep on myself at all times. Hidden away in my backpack. A perpetual reminder of what I’m working toward.

“Heads,” he calls as I flip it in the air.

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