Page 42 of The Riley Effect

The puck is about to drop when someone sits in the empty seat to my left. It takes a second to register it’s Mr. Holloway, who is dressed casually in street clothes.

“Hey, Mr. Holloway, What’s up? This is my sister Ruby and her kids, Caleb and Stella.” Mr. Holloway reaches across my body to shake my sister’s hand.

“Please call me Matt. I’m here to be a supportive uncle, not as Westvale’s Athletic Director.”

“Ohh, your nephew is on the team. Which one is he.” That has me rolling my eyes. I mean, how hard can it be to tell which player is Mr.Holloway’s nephew?

“Number fifty-three, Jalen.”

If Mr. Holloway notices thethis could get interestinglook in my sister’s eyes, he doesn’t show it. My sister doesn’t have time to tell whatever embarrassing story I know she is desperate to tell because the sound of a horn fills the arena, and the puck is dropped for the opening face-off. I run my hands down Riley’s back as bodies start hitting the boards.

When you grow up in Westvale, Hockey is a way of life. Even being a basketball junkie, I learned to enjoy hockey, but watching your friends play makes the game so much more stressful. Westvale is playing against St. John’s University. I know this one means more to Jalen than any other game on his schedule. The Queens-based college passed him over during his recruitment process, and Jalen told me he would have loved to play for his hometown team. By the way, Jalen is playing tonight, St. John’s shouldn’t want to play against the man holding no to a four-year grudge. Jalen is playing aggressively and putting someone into the boards every chance he gets, but he is still in control. Making it all look effortless.

When I get back from taking Riley outside for his walk during the first intermission, Jalen is throwing a punch at a St. John’s defenseman. I hurry back to my seat, eyes glued on the ice as Jalen takes a punch to the face. One whose imprint will be showing for days to come.

I pick up my pace when Byron gets involved, and the fight takes a nasty turn. My legs start to go numb. I need to sit, but my seat is no longer open. Mr. Holloway has slid over a spot and is leaning in to hear something my sister is saying. Whatever it is, he laughs and puts his hand on her knee.

It’s not until Riley barks that either of them notices I’m back. “Hey, take your seat back. I just couldn’t hear your sister, so I…” I hold my hand out telling him he is fine to stay where he is.

“What happened to Jalen out there? That fight looked a little intense,” my voice sounds strained.

“It was just a normal fight, Vee. Why are you so concerned?” I want to slap the knowing grin off my sister’s face. If that’s not bad enough, Stella now has a confused look on her face, which I know will lead to a hundred questions. And Mr. Holloway has a suspicious gleam in his eyes. I shrug off the question, insteadgiving Riley a good pat on the back. He’s never given me any trouble.

23

Ivy

I play with the zipper on my purse but my eyes focus on the cracked concrete trying not to trip in these obscenely high heels. During our walk to the baseball house I’ve been lost in my own little world thinking about how horrible tonight is going to be. This dress is too short, these heels are too high, and everyone is too drunk. I hate holidays everyone celebrates by drinking until they can’t see straight and the anxiety is always a little worse on October 31st.

We lose Lola the moment we step into the house. “Where is she going? I feel like she’s been MIA the last few weeks.”

Indy shrugs before pulling me towards the bar. Got to love a girl with a one-track mind. On our way, I take in the foreign sights and smells of a college party. Other than the one the Hockey boys threw for my team–which had a very controlled guest list–I haven’t been to a house party this year. My newfound enjoyment of going out has mostly involved nights at Jasper’s.

The lingering scent of weed and its smoke adds to my anxiety making the room as hazy as my thoughts. When Indy and I finally push our way back to the bar, I pull the large bottle of tequila off the shelf and take a satisfying swing.

“That’s not ours,” Indy reminds me.

“It is now,” I answer without any shame.

Gold liquor in hand, I notice some of my teammates are talking by the front door. I turn too quickly in the five-inch heels that I’m not used to wearing and stumble into a strong pair of arms. Luckily, my numbing potion is still in hand.

My eyes slowly rake up the man holding me upright, and some of my embarrassment eases when my eyes land on a familiar tattooed chest. I grip along the side of the five buttons he decided didn’t need to meet their partners, and when I finally get myself upright, I’m nearly eye-to-eye with Jalen.

Without thinking, my hand runs along his bruised eye. “Did this happen in the game today?”

He grabs my wrist, but my finger lingers on the discolored skin. “Yeah. My uncle told me how concerned you were about me.”

I roll my eyes. “I would have been concerned for anyone who got hit so hard that his helmet flew off.” Jalen pulls me closer, and I take another pull from my stolen bottle of tequila. His smile cuts through the smoke-filled room. And I hate how my stomach turns every time I see it.

He leans forward, ensuring I’m the only one who can hear him, “Keep telling yourself that, Angel.”

“Why did you punch that guy?” I know Mr. Holloway didn’t think anything about the fight, but I saw the look in Jalen’s eyes. They were ready to kill.

Jalen wraps his arms around my waist and settles us into a corner away from the chaos and costumes. He leans down and presses a kiss to my lips. I pull away when he tries to deepen it. If I can’t run away from my emotions, neither can he.

“Jalen,” I cup his face so he can’t take his eyes away from mine. “Please talk to me. I didn’t recognize the man behind those eyes today.”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before playing with the ends of my hair.

---