Page 117 of Breakneck Hockey

“I’ll either Uber or get someone to pick me up.”

I walk him to the door where he slips past Lane and into his shoes. Lane’s smirking, probably having heard all of our conversation.

“Text me when you get to where you’re going, Alderchuck.” My feelings are all over the place. I’m kinda hurt and mad at him, I know I’ve played a hand in our fight so I’m mad at myself too, but my protective instincts feel uneasy about letting him go, and that overrides it all.

“It’s broad daylight in a high-traffic area.”

“Don’t care. Just fucking do it, Alderchuck, or I will come find your ass and spank the fuck out of it.”

I turn on Lane as soon as he’s gone. “I’m in shit because of you.”

His feet are on my coffee table and he’s aloof like the cocky shit he is. “Like I said, if he leaves you over my mouth, not worth it.”

“That’s it.” I lunge, he hops off the couch and jumps over the arm. “I don’t know what kind of bullshit you’ve got going on tonight, but gettin’ between me and Alderchuck is too far.”

Lane acts out when he’s going through shit. I’m probably the one who triggered his latest tantrum with my text. I forget sometimes. He’s Mr. Tough Guy. Mr. Nothing Ever Bothers Me Guy. But the stuff from his shit childhood haunts him, and when it comes out, he turns into a nasty asshole.

“You guys are fine.”

“We’re not. Not by a long shot.” Alderchuck’s hurt face flashes in my mind again. I never want to see that face again. I’ll pound to death whoever and whatever makes his face like that.

I finally get a grip on Lane. My knuckles crunch cheekbone. But Lane can take a punch, and he shakes it off quickly. His knee slams into my gut. Breath leaves my lungs too rapidly, sharp pain paralyzes my ribs. I roll toward him, a non-breathing boulder—cause fuck breathing right now—sweeping his legs from under him.Wham!Onto his back he goes.

It’s a long thirty seconds to get oxygen back, but I’ve been winded plenty of times. I suck the air in slowly through pursed lips. Laughter rises from the heap of Lane beside me. It’s a painstaking crawl to the couch, but I make it so that I can stare down at him. His lip is already beginning to swell, blood spilling out of the gash my knuckles made when they ripped through.

The room fills with the sounds of us catching our breath.

“Fuck, Sutter. Didja fill your hand with lead? That’s gonna bruise.”

“Ab crunches are out for me for at least a couple of days.”

Uneasy silence is the next thing to take up space between us. I don’t know what to say to him. Part of me just wants to kick him out. I should kick him out.

“Do you remember that summer we used to sneak into the community pool for a night swim?” he says.

“I remember.” You’d think I’d want to hide in my room with all the lights on after what happened, but no. I wanted to be the thing the dark was afraid of. To a kid my age, going to the pool after hours seemed brave. “We brought baseball bats, and homemade brass knuckles for protection.”

“And then we finally thought we’d have our chance to kick some ass, but it was just your mom hiding in the bushes. Fuck, your mom’s the coolest.”

We thought we were so clever, but Ma noticed me sneaking out on the first night. She figured out what I was up to but allowed it because she knew I needed to do that. We couldn’t afford therapy at the time, so that was my therapy. It was worth the risk because she felt she was losing me.

“She gave us what for.” She didn’t tell me until I was older that she’d been following us each night. Once the jig was up, she couldn’t allow it to continue. By then it was over anyway. I got more worried about my tiny mother out in the dark.

“It was one of the first times anyone gave a fuck whether I lived or died. I went with you for you, but I also went with you to stay away from the foster house I’d been shoved into.”

“I wasn’t gonna do anything yet, Lane.”

“But you were thinking about it.” He groans, sitting up, making his way onto the couch with me. “You fucked up my back, Sutter.”

“I’m gonna do a lot more than that if you ever pull that shit with Casey again.”

“He’s Casey now, is he?”

“Yeah. And more.”

He analyzes me, and nods, seeing something, I guess. But something dawns on me about him, too. “You really care about these kids. It may have started as one thing, but it’s grown into another.”

“I know what it’s like to be separated from your brothers and treated like you’ll never be anything worthwhile. But, yeah, these two wormed their way into my cold heart.”

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