Page 55 of Tiny Fractures

“Oh, yeah, right. I knew that,” he says sheepishly. “Okay, well how did last season go?”

“It went fine, Dad.” I’m semi-annoyed; his questions are a constant reminder of his absence.

“Do you still enjoy being on the defense?”

I stop my work and stare at him, though he doesn’t look back at me. “I’m a center forward.”

His head finally pops up to look at me. “What? Since when?”

“Umm, for like the last nine years, Dad.” I’m trying to figure out if he’s pulling my leg or if he seriously has no idea what position I’ve been playing.

“No, you’re a defenseman,” he says. “Stevie’s a winger, you’re on the defense.”

“No, Dad. I started as a defenseman when I was seven but was moved into a different position after like two months.” I shake my head. “I’ve pretty much never not been a forward.”

My dad falls silent for a moment, studying me, his strong brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, Ran, I…” he starts with a sigh, but is interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He doesn’t finish his sentence and instead retrieves his phone. A telling smile brightens his expression when he looks at the screen. It’s obviously someone he enjoys talking to and he doesn’t hesitate before he answers the call, puts the phone to his ear, and walks back into the house. I’m left standing by my car, the brake system still disassembled.

I don’t know if my dad forgets about me or if he’s still on the phone talking to whomever, but I finish changing out the brake system on my Mustang alone. It takes a lot longer than it would have had my dad not left me hanging, but I get it done. An hour later I stand in the garage, my hands fucking filthy, admiring my handiwork.

I give a quick, approving nod, then ascend the three steps into the kitchen with Onyx right behind me. I take note of the time on the large clock hanging just above the doorframe. I need to shower, change, and then head to Shane’s where I’ll be spending the evening, just like I have most nights these past few days.

I quickly wash my hands in the kitchen sink, then let Onyx outside to the backyard before finally walking upstairs. My dad emerges from the master bedroom just as I reach the landing. His face falls, the color draining from his cheeks as he observes me and my stained shirt. He very clearly forgot about me in the garage.

“Shit,” he sighs when I pass him on the staircase. “Ran, I was on the phone and…”

“It’s fine, Dad. Whatever,” I tell him, and disappear in my room. I know I’m blowing him off, not giving him a chance to explain, and I feel bad seeing the look of disappointment on his face. But in the end, he’s going to leave like he always does, and I’ll be left to deal with the repercussions of his absence. So I try to do what I can to live my life—to survive without him here to protect me.

I grab my phone off my bed and swipe through my notifications, finding some text messages from Shane.

Shane: God damn it, Tori is wearing her short-shorts and that ass of hers is gonna be the fucking death of me… I just straight-up ran into the fucking doorframe because I kept staring at her…

Shane: Also, can you bring some guac? The chunky, spicy kind!

I laugh at the randomness of his messages and scroll up only to notice a missed call from Cat. I smile like a little kid at the prospect of getting to hear her voice in only a few seconds, and my heart rate increases a couple of beats as I sit on my bed, already dialing her number.

Cat left for North Carolina a couple of days after my birthday—after I decided to heed Shane’s advice to let Cat decide whether she wanted to be with me and just see where things would go. And even though she’s been gone this past week, I’ve still been happier than I can remember being in a long damn time. She’s set to come back tomorrow, and just the thought of seeing her brings an almost giddy excitement.

We spent a few hours together the day before her trip, eating at a small BBQ place where I amusedly watched her devour a full rack of ribs. Then we spent some time sitting by the beach with her leaning back against me, chatting about everything and nothing. It was an incredibly peaceful afternoon that left me feeling content and sad at the prospect of not getting to see her for a week while she spent some time with her family in North Carolina.

But Cat and I have been handling this week pretty well, though that’s probably because we’re constantly talking or texting each other. I still haven’t told anyone what’s going on between Cat and me; nothing about the hot make-out sessions we’ve had more than once; nothing about the part where, like an idiot, I told her I was falling for her; and nothing about the fact that I was seriously lost to this girl after knowing her for just a little over a month.

Part of the reason I haven’t told Shane, my brother, or even Vada—who’s actually spending way more time at my house than even I am—is that I feel like if I don’t talk about it, I’ll be able to keep all this excitement and the rush of being with Cat, even over a temporarily long distance, to myself.

It’s the best, hottest, and most incredible secret I’ve ever had in my life. Most of my other secrets are dark, but not this one. And with all the crap that’s locked up inside me, why not add something really amazing to the mix? Something that makes me incredibly happy.

Another reason I’m able to make it through this week without thinking of Cat every waking minute is because Shane not only saw fit to schedule me for the night shift every day this week, but also insists that we work out with Steve and Zack every morning. So between working until two thirty or three every morning, getting back up by 7 a.m., and working out for two or three hours, I’m so wiped out that I end up sleeping away a huge chunk of the day. This is all fine for now, but conditioning for hockey is going to start up again soon, and I keep telling Shane he’s going to run me into the ground if he keeps this up.

This next season is going to be strange. Both Steve and Shane have graduated, leaving only Drew and me on the team. Drew is a pain in my ass and I honestly can’t stand the guy. He’s a mediocre player who doesn’t take responsibility for his mistakes and doesn’t have any fucking discipline. He also can’t stand me, so there’s that. The only reason we hang out is because he’s good friends with Cheyenne, who happens to be Summer’s best friend.

“Hey sleepy head!” Cat answers on the second ring, her voice happy, and a grin spreads across my face as I picture her smiling.

“I’ve actually been up for a while already,” I chuckle. “What are you doing?” I ask, wanting to hear her voice.

“Not much. Just getting ready for Julie’s birthday dinner tonight.”

Cat has told me about Julie during our hours-long conversations this past week, and I feel like I’ve known Julie all my life even though I’ve never exchanged a single word with her.

“Where are you headed for dinner?” I lie back on my bed, staring at the white ceiling.

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