Page 68 of Twisted Shot
“Bro, you good?” Jesse’s voice cuts in, closer now. Theo glances up to find him standing next to his stall.
Jesse leans over, peering at the card. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Or throw up. Or both.”
“I’m fine,” Theo mutters, but the words come out tight.
Jesse squints. “Dude. I know you’re stressed. You get all twitchy when you’re stressed.”
Theo doesn’t answer.
He reads the first line again, mouthing the words. Then again. His lips don’t form the right rhythm. His brain hits a snag mid-sentence.
Jesse watches him. Concern replaces the teasing.
Theo tries again. “The Whalers h-have always b-been?—”
His voice catches mid-sentence. Dies in his throat.
Goddamn it.
Shame creeps in, hot and heavy, curling around his neck like a noose. He stares down at the floor, vision blurring at the edges, jaw clenched so tight it feels like bone grinding against bone.
Jesse drops onto the bench beside him. Quiet now.
After a moment, Theo speaks low enough he hopes only Jesse hears it. “I don’t w-w—” He stops. Rephrases like his therapist taught him. “She can’t see me like this.”
Jesse doesn’t ask who she is. He doesn’t need to.
Theo’s throat works. “I can’t do this.”
Jesse’s voice softens. “It’s only some lines, man. You can?—”
“No,” Theo cuts in, too sharp. Then again, as he breathes to control his panic, voice tight. “No, I c-can’t. Not with everyone watching.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, like that could block it out—the room, the pressure, the blood roaring in his ears.
He’s fourteen again, stuck at the front of theclass, words crumbling in his mouth while twenty pairs of eyes stare through him like he’s broken.
He’s twelve again, grinning wide at the dinner table, recounting every second of his first shootout goal when Conrad cuts in mimicking him with cruel precision, drawing out the words until they’re mangled beyond recognition. Their father chuckles. Their mother says nothing.
“Can you read mine? Please.”
Jesse is quiet. For a beat, all Theo hears is the murmur of other guys talking, the dull buzz of a speaker warming up down the hall.
“Yeah. I got you.”
Theo lifts his gaze. Jesse’s smile is small, with no teasing in it.
“For real?” Theo asks.
“Dude,” Jesse says, standing. “You think I’m not gonna step in for my best guy? You’ve carried me off the ice this season. The least I can do is carry you through a video.”
Theo lets out a shaky breath. Doesn’t trust himself to say anything else. He nods.
Jesse claps a hand on his shoulder. “You owe me tacos. Like, a lot of tacos.”
CHAPTER 23
MILA
