Page 26 of The Breaking Point

“Oh yeah. She’ll survive. She always does. Even though her liver is failing and her kidneys barely work. The doctors are always like, ‘you should stop drinking.’ And then she swears she’ll stop. But she never does.

“Last time she was in the hospital, she got caught drinking hand sanitizer. Fucking hand sanitizer! Who does that?”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know people did things like that.

“You look shocked,” Brady said. “You’re so naive. It’s cute.”

I blushed to the roots of my hair. “What about your dad?” I stammered.

“My dad? He’s in prison. Got caught dealing drugs three times, and now he’s there for the rest of his life. My mom always told me that she kicked him out because he liked to take me with him on his drug runs. Made the cops less likely to stop him. Until one time they did, and they found bags of crack in my stroller.”

Brady cracked his knuckles. “Yeah, so, my parents fucking suck. That’s the whole story, basically. My mom keeps wanting me to come back home, but why should I? She drinks her money away. At least in foster care, I get to eat.”

I felt like crying, hearing Brady’s story. But I knew he wouldn’t like me crying for him. I dug my fingers into my jeans, forcing my emotions under control.

“I’m glad you got to come live with us,” I said.

Brady was silent. I felt myself blushing again. He wouldn’t look at me, but then he said, “Yeah, your parents are decent, at least.”

Then his expression darkened. “But I don’t want to be a charity case my entire life. People always look at you different when they find out you’re some punk-ass foster kid. They look all sad and shit. It’s annoying.”

“You’re not a charity case,” I protested.

“I’m living off your parents’ dime when I’m not their kid. Pretty sure that’s the definition of charity,” he said wryly.

“They get paid for it.”

“Barely. Believe me, I know it’s a pathetic amount of money. My last three foster families never failed to tell me how little thestate paid them to take care of me. My last foster mom always bitched that I ate too much food. So I’d have to sneak it and keep shit hidden from her.”

Brady gazed out on the arena. “No, I’m not gonna be a charity case forever. I’m going to be a pro hockey player. I’ll make so much money that I can swim in it. Everyone will know who I am. And it’ll be because of who I am, and that I’m a hockey player. Not because I’m some pathetic kid with shit parents.”

I could hear in his voice how serious he was. I had a feeling he was going to pursue his goal no matter what.

“Well, when you get famous, I’ll sit right here in the stands wearing your jersey,” I said.

Brady chuckled. “This isn’t a pro arena, kid.”

“Whatever. You know what I mean.” I shot him a smile. “I’ll be in the stands, cheering you on, until you get so embarrassed that you’ll make security kick me out.”

“Like I said, you’re crazy.” His expression turned somber. “But I bet you won’t remember me by then.”

“What? I’ll never forget you. You’re the crazy one.”

Brady didn’t say anything after that. But I could tell by his smile he was pleased.

BRADY

PRESENT DAY

Grace was here. Why was she always around, no matter where I went?

We’d won our game tonight. I should’ve been happy. I should’ve been celebrating with the team.

But I could only watch Grace laughing and flirting with my teammates.

It was all innocent. Grace wasn’t the type to lead anyone on. I could even tell when she was uncomfortable, when the guys were too flirtatious with her. She had an expression that was a cross between embarrassment and annoyance. She’d look up at the guys from under her lashes, her pretty lips scowling.

She didn’t know she made that face often. I’d pointed it out to her once, long ago, but she’d denied it. She claimed she had the best poker face when she’d probably lose at poker because she wore her heart on her sleeve.

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