Page 133 of Released from the Sin Bin

Ripping my jersey and pads off, I sit on the bench with my head in my hands to stop the noise. It’s my father yelling at me how I’m worthless. My sister, telling me to toughen up. And now it’s Willa saying I’m better than this.

I’m not better than this.

“Get your pads back on and get back out there,” Coach Renan comes in after me.

I stand up and punch the wall of my wooden cubby hole.

“Damn it, Carter.” Coach huffs. “Do you want to play tomorrow or not? This is your shot to get drafted if you show up. Screw this up, and you won’t get out of here.”

He stays behind me, waiting for me to either freak out or get my pads back on.

“I can’t do this shit right now,” I mutter through my heaving breaths.

“Do you think I don’t know what you go through? I live in this town,” Coach sighs. “Take a break. We’re almost done out there anyway. Take a break, and do the interview for Lenny’s podcast.”

“What?” I turn to question him.

“She’s asking for a player to interview. This will give you time to think it over if you really want to be here. We have Power Skate bright and early in the morning. If you’re not there, then I know your answer.”

He grabs the pen he dropped and heads to the door.

“Just so we’re clear,” he calls back. “Your steps are; lose the fucking attitude, do Alex’s sister’s interview, and sleep it off. Or you don’t play tomorrow.”

I hit my forehead into the cubby shelf. This is the last thing I need.

I made it through the interview, doing my best not to freak out over the questions about Willa.

That’s all Lenny wanted to talk about; how good it is that Coach Renan hired the first Drexton Hall female coach, and how good she’s been for the team.

Willa stares at me from the hall, watching us wrap the interview up from the small window in Drexton Hall’s tiny studio.

I push the mic out of my face when we’re wrapped up and storm out through the door.

“Carter, wait,” Willa calls out to me, but I don’t stop. “Please, just talk to me.”

“Why, so we can be friends again?” I snap around to look at her. “I’m done with that.”

I’ve lost all sense of love I had for her. It took twenty-four hours to strip it away. Maybe it wasn’t love after all.

“Please stop.” She races after me. “I didn’t mean it like that, please Carter. I love you. Please don’t do this.” She stops me from walking out the door. “This isn’t you. You’re better than this.”

I pull my hand out of hers.

“I’m not the guy you think I am.” I push through the doors, running out through the rain to my car without looking back.

I know exactly what I need to feel better and get myself back. I was living in a dream. A fantasy of love and happiness.

My life is pain. That’s where I truly belong.

The drive to my parents’ house is quick. Too quick, because I was flying without a thought of danger in my head.

I don’t knock and don’t care what I’m walking in on, but it’s worse than I could imagine in my darkest dreams.

My mother is kneeling on the kitchen floor, crying. My father stands over her with the pan from her cooking set raised.

“You burned it on purpose,” he shouts with a slur.

I haven’t been home in weeks, and I shouldn’t have stayed away that long. Mom has an old healing bruise on her cheek, and red marks on her forearms sticking out of the shirt sleeves on her robe.

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