Page 3 of Unsteady

Chelsea closed the session with a quick round-up huddle, where only half of them were able to kneel, the rest sprawled on the ice with happy smiles.

I keep waiting for that little reminder, of myself at this age, holding my dad’s stick and letting him glide me almost too fast across the ice. Watching his games on the TV, decked out in his jersey and shouting just like my mom. The first time I got a goal on my own, even if it was nearly accidental. I wait… and still, nothing.

“Is he?”

The kid looks over his shoulder at the older group finishing up across the ice.

“Yep. Oliver. I think he’ll be jealous you skated with me today.”

“Jealous?” I quirk a brow at the little guy.

He nods and another giggle escapes. “Oh yeah. You play Wolves hockey, and Oliver wants to go therebad.”

I peek over with him, now wondering why exactly Liam hasn’t been called over by the gaggle of parents surrounding the kids gorging on the goodies at the snack table. The older kids scatter, all heading for the gate, except one—a taller boy with hair long enough that it hangs just out of his helmet who is skating right for us.

Chelsea is nowhere to be seen, in fact the ice has cleared. Parents and children cover the bleachers and huddle around the table of snacks, laughing and chatting with each other so much it echoes and bounces lighting off the walls of the open rink. I wait for someone to step up to the glass, notice the two boys still on the ice but no one bats an eye.

“Is she not here?” the older boy, Oliver, asks, pulling his helmet off to hang in his hands. His hair is darker, but the gray eyes are identical to his brother’s, easy to spot the connection in their youth.

Liam shakes his head, silent for the first time all afternoon.

Oliver makes a frustrated sound, before looking down at Liam with his hands on his hips after a quick wary glance up at me. “I told you, if she’s not here, you wait for me by the snacks with Miss Chelsea.”

Liam pouts, his hand releasing me to skate, or trip, to his brother.

“But it’s a Wolf!” he explains in a semi-hushed voice, letting out a quick little howl. “Like, he plays hockey for Waterfell.”

The kid looks at him, waiting for his brother to do anything, but Oliver looks embarrassed, almost angry. Liam howls again, then turns his head towards me and says, “Right, Rhys?”

I let out a smile and nod. “Right, Liam.”

“He’s gonna teach me so much hockey stuff, I’m gonna be even better than you.”

Oliver smiles, in spite of his brother’s antics, as Liam skates little circles around him. He probably feels like he’s flying, but he’s on one foot tripping along.

It’s easy to see the camaraderie between them, and makes me think of being six and chasing Bennett around like a lunatic because even then, he was always bigger, but I was faster. He’s my brother, even if not by blood, and an ache emanates from my chest at the thought of him, of the one hundred missed calls and texts on my phone that I’ve yet to listen to or answer.

I haven’t seen him since the hospital, despite knowing he’s made multiple visits to my house only to be turned away by my parents over and over.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I grab it.

BENNETT REINER

152 Unread Messages

I know you’re alive dumbass. Answer your…

Not bothering to read more than the preview, I slip it back into my pocket and ignore the niggle of guilt that threatens, and refocus my attention on the boys who are staring blankly up at me.

Chelsea joins us suddenly. She’s smiling brightly at the boys, offering me a little shrug before leaning over to whisper in my ear.

“They’re always the last ones here.” As she speaks, I look over and see that the snack table has cleared out and we are the only four left in the whole rink. “Someone has to stay with them until—”

A door slams and there’s a girl sprinting down the ramp towards the gate.

She’s slight, covered in tight black leggings and an oversized blue sweatshirt that she’s practically swimming in, her ponytail loose and fluffed up by the hood hanging around her shoulders. It's theundone-barely-there look on her face that really makes me wonder when was the last time she slept.

As she gets closer and I register how young she looks, I think maybe that assessment is harsh for a mother of two.

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