Page 98 of The Hat Trick

We ended up winning the game against Anaheim, but just barely. Luckily, Jones got a goal only seconds before the final buzzer that gave us the win instead of needing to go into sudden death.

Coach ends up telling us that was too close, and that we better step it up at the game tomorrow. I don’t say much to anyone as we leave, and no one tries to talk to me either. We all know that was too close and are determined to win tomorrow.

* * *

Brynn meetsup with me in the morning. We left Anaheim immediately after the game last night and spent the night in LA which isn’t far from where Brynn lives. We agreed to go to breakfast after our short morning skate. I don’t have much time, but I have to see her.

She greets me with her normal bright smile, and even though it’s only been about a week since I’ve last seen her it feels longer.

“You look like shit,” she jokes.

“Right back at ya,” I scoff.

We order our coffee and food and that’s when I see her face fall and I know what’s coming before she even opens her mouth to say anything.

“Brandon has been calling.” She fidgets with her napkin.

“He’s been calling me too. Have you talked to him much?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, it’s hard when he’s so clearly high, but you should hear him, Brent, he’s struggling, and I really think he wants help this time. You’re the only one with the resources to help him…”

I know she’s not purposely trying to guilt me into anything, she just cares about our shit brother. I run my hand down my face, feeling the scratchy stubble I should’ve shaved like three days ago, but haven’t thought much about it.

“I can’t keep wasting time and money on him though, Brynn, if he’s serious he needs to start the processhimselfand he knows that.”

She starts picking at her nails, still not looking up at me. “I don’t think he knows how,” she says softly.

I sigh. “Brynn, I know you want to help. I know you care. There are things I haven’t let you see when it comes to him, and that was always to protect you. So please trust me.”

“I know I’m the baby of the family and you all just want to protect me, but I’m an adult now. I can handle it. I can handle the hard truths and it won’t destroy me. I just want you to trustmeand see that maybe Brandon hasn’t been able to do these things and now he knows he burned the bridges with the rest of you and I’m all he has.”

“Brynn—”

“No, Brent, don’t act like I’m still a little kid. Just think about helping him, even if it’s just this last time. For me.”

Our coffee is delivered, and we both send up small smiles of thanks to the waiter before he walks away.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” I say reluctantly. I really don’t want to, but the way Brynn is begging I feel like at this point if something were to happen to Brandon, she might blame herself and I can’t stand the thought of her carrying that guilt around.

She smiles at me. “That’s all I ask.”

* * *

I blame allthe shit floating around my brain for why I’m playing shitty tonight. I almost texted Brandon before the game but realized that would be a horrible idea and it would only distract me more.

The whole situation has my mind muddy, and I can’t seem to pull myself out of it. We are down by two at the beginning of the third period and after a reaming from Coach in the locker room during the second intermission, I’m pushing everything aside in my mind and focusing on the one thing that matters more than anything else right now. Hockey.

Despite LA being up, they are still playing like it could all be ripped away from them, and that’s exactly what we are trying to do. We are aggressive with the puck and with hits while trying to avoid any penalties. Our line switches are smooth, but none of it was enough. With the sound of the final buzzer announcing we lost the game, all the thoughts I tried to push away come roaring back.

I take the blame on my shoulders and as we all go back to the hotel, I refuse to even look at anyone. Dumont and a couple other guys try talking to me, but I just let them know I’m not in the mood. Normally, I can shake these things off a bit easier, but not this time. Not with everything else going on.

Back in my room I take off my clothes, putting them away neatly as I always do before sliding into bed. I glance at my phone and despite everything I feel slightly better just from one text from one particular person.

Chandler: Sorry about the game, you guys played really well. I can’t wait for you to be back.

Brent: Send me a picture of yourself. I need to see your beautiful face.

She sends a selfie and I stare at it for way longer than I care to admit. It seems like she just took it, she’s lying in bed, her chocolate hair is spread out as she’s smiling up at the camera. There’s a hint of cleavage, but I don’t think she’s purposely trying to be sexy. She just is. That’s the thing about Chandler, she’s so naturally pretty, she doesn’t even need to try, and I don’t think she notices it.

---