Page 131 of Released from the Sin Bin

“Don’t think so, kid.” Creed takes the glass and drinks the now warm beer. “I’ve been watching you for ten minutes, and you haven’t noticed I’m here.”

I look around to make sure no one else has been watching me, lost in my turmoil.

“What’s bothering you?” He sits with my beer and watches the hockey game I’ve been blindly staring at.

“Nothing,” I grunt.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me, and I know when you’re fucking lying.” He drapes his arm over the chair between us and sits slumped down, with his stomach sticking out past his jeans.

I watch the game without registering what’s happening in the play. If I don’t talk, Creed will let me leave and wait for me to come to him, but I need to get it out.

“I think Willa and I broke up.” I lean over the bar and play with the wet cardboard coaster I was using.

“You think?”

“We didn’t really talk about it, but we fought and it’s over.” I fling the coaster into a garbage can set behind the old bar. It coasts over the edge and falls to the floor.

“How do you know if you don’t talk about it? C’mon, shoot it,” he shouts at the TV before turning back to me. “Couples fight all the time.”

They do, and there’s a chance we can make it past this, but then what? We meet up secretly to have sex and pretend we’re friends around other people? I don’t want to do that.

Willa’s friends will never approve and it’ll be her defending me, just like she did with Vic all over again.

“I’m not good for her,” I confess, what’s really stopping me from giving it another try. She knows it just as much as I do. Everyone does. “I’ll never be, because I’ll end up just like him.” I point to the picture of the town hall that hangs on the wall. “I’m my father’s son.”

“That’s bullshit,” Creed scoffs. At first I think he’s talking about a bad call, but it’s a commercial break. “You’re nothing like him. You may look like him, but that’s as far as it goes.”

“You don’t know that.” I slump over with my head in my hands.

“I know that better than anyone.” He hits my shoulder. “I was friends with him before he tried to become a big shot.”

I knew they went to school together, but I didn’t really think they were friends.

“Addiction is a disease.” He holds up his nearly empty glass. “The pressure got too much for him, and he turned to alcohol to have fun and let off steam. But he was always an ass. He thought he was better than anyone, and the drinking made it worse. I don’t recognize him anymore. You were never like he is now or was.”

“He’s a monster and he raised me.”

“Your mother raised you. You’re just like her, or like she used to be. She stuck with him, thinking she could help him. She’d do anything to help him when he lost his shot at the pros. He drank himself into oblivion and she was there to lift him up.” Creed lets out a long breath. “It worked for a bit too. Then the pressure hit again. He had to be the best, and drinking was the only way to get through it.”

“I don’t remember any of this.” I shake my head. I only remember him being the drunk bastard he is.

“You were too young,” Creed laughs at me. “I remember the night it started again. He was sitting here just like you are, only he drank the bottle. He didn’t stare at a glass until it turned piss warm in his hands.” He winces from the taste as he takes another drink. “Your mother helped him as best she could until Janisa passed.”

Creed rubs my shoulder and looks down to say a silent prayer. He picks his head back up and wipes a tear from his eye.

“That killed your mother. She hasn’t been the same since.” He pats my back and lets out another breath as he stands up with a grunt. “That’s who you are. Someone that would do anything for those he loves, even push them away.”

He gives my shoulder another pat before leaving me alone to clean up my mess.

I got to the rink early to avoid seeing Willa beforehand. I’m not ready to face her.

I’m angry and I don’t know if I’m more angry with her or myself anymore. I don’t want her to see me like this.

I know this anger all too well, but it’s been a while. Add to that my broken heart, and I’m a mess.

I’m the first one out on the ice and the Coach is talking to Alex’s older sister, Lenny, at the bench with her hands pressed in a steeple in front of her chest, begging him for something.

Our first game is a home game, and she’s here for Alex and something to do with the hockey podcast she runs. I’ve listened to it, it’s not that bad.

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