Page 106 of You Had Me at Hockey

Our eyes meet. And I know…he does get it. I’ve been so fucking pissed at him for years, and yet he’s the only other person in my life who truly knows.

“All I had left was hockey,” he says. “I felt like my mom didn’t care enough about me to eventryto cope. It took me a long time to learn that she couldn’t help it. She has to be on medication all the time now. She just couldn’t do it. Same as you couldn’t get out of your hospital bed and drive to Regina.”

I nod. “Fuck. That really sucks.” It sinks in that he’s gone through his own hell, thinking his mom didn’t even care. “But I get it, about hockey being all there is. It’s been more than a game. It helps me forget the world, all the real-life pain and problems.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

There’s another moment of shared understanding as we both nod. A connection I haven’t felt with anyone else since before the accident. And the last time I felt this, it was with him and Hunter.

Okay, anyone else except Sara. But the connection I feel with her is different. It’s not based on a shared passion for hockey or a shared painful past. It’s based on something else…she gets me on a different level, knowing that I feel different from other people because of what happened to me…because she feels different too. And yet, we match…perfectly.

Fuck. I close my eyes. I have to shove those kinds of thoughts away, especially right now, talking to Easton.

“I was selfish, too,” Easton continues. “I just wanted to get drafted. My whole life at that point was focused on that day. Then…it wasn’t how I’d imagined it…with my parents there, even Bryce, celebrating with them and with my friends. Nobody was there. It was…hollow. It was so important to me, but it felt like a joke without them there. I was just relieved that I’d made it.”

“I was…jealous,” I admit in a rusty voice. “When you got drafted, I still didn’t know if I’d be able to play again. I was so fucking bitter.”

Easton closes his eyes and nods. “I felt guilty. That Icouldplay when others couldn’t. When I got drafted, I told myself I was playing for them too.”

I stick my fork into the mix of grains in my bowl and scoop up some. It tastes like chalk, but I chew and swallow. “I’m ashamed of myself,” I confess.

“Me too.” He sighs, holding his burger. “But like I said, we were kids. It’s in the past. It’ll always be part of us, but maybe what happened…what we went through…it made us stronger.”

“I don’t feel strong. Ever since the accident, I’ve been…afraid.”

“I know.”

Our eyes meet again.

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” I say roughly.

“We’ve got this. Look what we’ve accomplished. I even got brave enough to take a chance with Lilly.” He pauses. “Speaking of Lilly…and Sara…you fucked up the other night, bro.”

My chin jerks back. “What?”

“At the Fine Fox. When you told her it was none of her business. She looked like you just slapped her in the face. That was harsh, man.”

I stare at him. Then I slump. “Yeah. I’m an asshole.”

“Have you talked to her? Apologized?”

“No.” I cough. “She texted me, apologizing. She said I was right, it was none of her business, and she basically told me to fuck off and have a nice life.”

His eyes bulge. “You broke up?”

“Appears so. But it’s just as well. Going out with her was…” I stop.

“What?”

I still don’t know what to say. She messed up my orderly life, but I just told Easton I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Afraid of change, afraid of doing something that’s not carefully planned…afraid of caring too much. Afraid of caring too much forher.

Clearly, since I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her and missing her, and not giving a shit about anything else…it’s too late for that. I do care for her.

“Shit,” I mutter. I rub my eyes. “You’re right. I fucked up.”

“So fix it.”

I nod. Is it too late, though? I don’t blame her for not wanting to see me ever again.

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