Page 5 of Forbidden Hockey
“C’mon. Forgive me, and I’ll overlook your little drunk fest here,” he wheedles in a voice that says he was going to anyway.
“That’s not how forgiveness works, Hunter.” But, yeah, I forgive him. I’ll always forgive Hunter. I nod, leaning back to crane my neck and look into his concerned eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Gettin’ so mad.”
“Nah, you had a right to. But maybe take it easy on Mom? She’s not at her best.”
It’s not that I don’t have any sympathy for Mom, I do, but we’re always taking it easy on her. We have to adjust for her moods and her lack of patience. When’s it our turn? I promise him that I will, but not for her.
For him.
There’s a lot of yelling that night. Because of me. I’m in my room, but I can hear everything.
“I know you didn’t like it, but he makes a good point. You’re not here enough, so let me handle him.”
“Then don’t whine to me when you can’t get him to do what you want.”
“That’s not what happened. I wanted advice. I won’t make the same mistake of coming to you for advice again.”
He’d said that to me, too, but now that he’s saying it to her and finality rings in his voice, like he’s making a brand-new affirmation for himself.
They finally settle down, and I race for my bed, hopping into it with the lights off in case Hunter checks on me. Footsteps stop at my door, but then they carry on.
I’m a problem for everyone. I wish I wasn’t fucking here. The only thing I’m good at, that has any hope of getting me out of here, is hockey. I’ve got to make that happen.
Something shakes me. I open my eyes, at least I think they’re open, but it’s hard to tell when everything’s pitch black. The sun’s not up yet.
“C’mon. Up you get,” Hunter croaks, sleep still in his voice.
“What the fuck, dude?”
“Hey, language. Up.”
Fuck him, but I drag myself from the cozy nook my sheets became in the night. Someone needs to turn the heat up in this place. Summer had an abrupt end, and we’re straight into Fall.
Hunter’s in the kitchen, dressed for work in loose blue jeans and a blue flannel with a t-shirt underneath. The coffee machine gurgles, and cerealping-pingsas a cascade of Cheerios fills the bowls. He slices a banana and tops each serving in dim lighting.
“There a reason you’ve dragged me from my bed before dawn?”
“Yep.” He gives nothing away. “Eat.”
There’s only one reason I can think of for getting up at four am on a school day. Did he…? But how…? I let him keep his surprise till we get out to the truck, my hockey gear’s all ready to go.
“I know you’re probably gonna need new stuff pretty quickly,” he says, “because you’re growing like a weed. We’ll go on the weekend. It’ll have to be secondhand, though.”
“Dude, I don’t care. I just wanna play. How…?” I slide into the passenger side, and the engine groans to a start, unhappy about being woken up at this hour.
Hunter’s lips spread into a wide smile, but his eyes get a little of that cocky “gotcha” he’s known for.
“I got a promotion, a big one. You’re lookin’ at the newest foreman for Moretti Construction.”
“Wow, that’s … that’s great. It’s more money, then?” He pulls out of the drive and it sinks in. We’re headed to the rink. I get to play hockey!
“A lot more, and a whole bunch of benefits come with my position. I’m gonna try to get Mom to go for counseling now that I’ll have a family plan.”
“Huh. Good luck with that.”
