Page 74 of Unlovable Player

Austin’s pretending not to be… impressed? Intimidated? All I know from his uncomfortable expression and the way he keeps tugging at his tie, though he wears a suit all the time to away games, is that he’s pretending to belong when he knows he doesn’t.Yeah, I know that feeling.

The house has been professionally decorated for Christmas. When I was a kid, I’d hear my mom walking around on the wooden floors in high-heels giving directions to her favorite event planner. The poor woman had to practically run to catch up while she jotted down things like; “think ‘Romanov,’” “think ‘the court of Louis XVI.’” I liked to think she was writing; “think ‘crazy rich asshole.’”

I don’t want to see Austin’s reaction to all this pomp, but I force myself to look. If this night is meant to be a wake-up call, then I ought to be awake for it too.

He’s looking up at the ceiling. One of a dozen chandeliers dangling overhead. The teardrop crystals shimmering under Mom’s carefully-controlled ambience lighting.

Fresh wreaths wrap around the double staircase and every fireplace and doorframe in sight. This year she’s opted for a classic red, green and gold theme and I have to say, I prefer it to her winter wonderland phase – all silvers and snow white, making the place feel colder than it already is.

Mom steps out from one of the rooms in a black velvet dress with one of those off-the-shoulder necklines and a ruched detail at the waist. For once, I can’t hear her heels clacking against the wooden floor because of all the generic jazz renditions of Christmas songs and people hobnobbing.

She isn’t holding a drink, of course. She doesn’t throw these parties to have fun. And as always, she’s wearing a painted smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach the eyes – though it’s always hard to tell since she started Botox.

“Sebastian, darling!” She air kisses me like I’m some socialite she’s just been introduced to for the first time, and aVanity Faircamera is lingering somewhere in the background. Her glance flickers over Austin for a couple of seconds before flickering away again.

“Mother, this is Austin Donoghue, captain of the hockey team.”

“Of course!” She puts her hand out to him, floppy, like she expects him to kiss it. I think about kissing Patti’s hand at the diner, how funny they all found it, and cringe.

Austin takes her limp fingers in his own and gives them a little shake. I would laugh if this was absolutely anyone else’s family.

“Sebastian, your father wants you to let him know you’ve arrived, he’s in the study. Come Austin, let me introduce you to some of our guests…”

Austin’s face goes white and he looks at me for help. I mouthsorryas my mother leads him by the arm into the drawing room. He squares his shoulders as if this is practise for all those press conferences he will have to do when he’s playing in the NHL. I guess thisisgood practise for being thrown to the sharks.

My father is in his study smoking cigars with a couple of men who look as though they’ve been put through a dehydrator.

He does a good job at pretending to be happy to see me as he steps forward to take my hand.

“Gentleman, you remember my son, Sebastian.”

“Sebastian, how’s Yale treating you?” One of the men asks.

Before I can reply that I’m not at Yale anymore, my dad butts in and says something vague about it being just fine, before expertly steering the conversation in another direction.

“We hear you’ll be joining your father’s company after graduation.”

“But surely you’ll let the boy have a break first?” One of them says with a glint in his eye.

“A young man needs to sow his wild oats before settling down.”

The men chuckle and my dad forces a smile through gritted teeth. I see what’s behind that look. He thinks I’ve sewn my oats a little too wildly already.

“Still playing hockey?” One of the men asks.

“Yes, actually, Dad, I brought a friend home from school, Austin-”

“That’s nice son, why don’t you go out there and enjoy yourself and we’ll have a chat later.”

I know when I’m being dismissed. I shake hands with everyone in the room and make sure to call my father ‘Sir’ before leaving.

I don’t realize how airless that room felt until I step outside and take a deep breath.Fuck, that’s going to be my life, forever. Not being able to breath…a waiter passes by with a tray full of champagne glasses and I grab two, downing half of one on my way to find Austin.

I find him still standing with my mother in the middle of a group of women, all beaming at him like they’re at a male strip club. I can’t say I blame them, Austin does look good in that suit.

He spots me coming and the tight smile on his face softens.

“Oh, you already have a drink,” I note. “I’ll drink yours then.”

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