Page 80 of Friendzone Hockey
“Right now, it’s a zero. But once in a while, if I open that pandora’s box, I can’t breathe.”
“Awww, Stace. Why don’t you open that box? That’s why it still hurts so bad, you know.”
“How do you figure?”
He takes a breath. “It was like that with my mom. I felt it all. All over. Cried until I was all used up. A purge. Once that was done, I could miss her again without nerve-frying paralysis. I could miss her in happy ways. I know you do the talking to her thing, but that’s not the same as missing her.”
“I don’t think I follow.”
“Know what? That’s your homework. Miss your mom for five minutes a day, even if you cry.”
“I think you’ve lost it, but I’ll do my homework, Doctor Nolan.”
“Good.” He ducks his head. He knows it’s his turn.
“Why are you a mess? I want hardcore proof, Nolan.”
He rolls his eyes. “Because on the inside, I feel like a puzzle spilled onto the floor. The pieces of me are everywhere. Every time I slot one into place, more rain from the sky, scattering the others further away from me. I’m always asking, who I am? Who is the real Dash Nolan?”
“Sweetheart, we’re not puzzles. We’re canvases. If you don’t like a puzzle piece, burn it and paint a new one.”
“Burn it,” he repeats.
“Yeah.”
“And paint a new one.”
“Paint a new one,” I confirm.
He nods. “Okay. I can do that. Maybe Gator can be a new puzzle piece.”
“He can be.” My jaw tightens, locking in my true feelings about that. But after tonight I’m surer than ever, if Dash can’t learn to trust anyone but me in a relationship, I’ll always wonder if I’m taking advantage of him. I need him to try. Gator could end up being his person, but it’s a risk I have to take.
“Then I’m painting a little alligator on a puzzle piece—in my mind only, I can’t paint for shit—and he can be hanging around the outside.”
“The outside of what?”
“My mind castle. Sorry, Gator, you’re in the moat for now,” he says, eyes closed, to an invisible Gator.
I laugh. “Where are the rest of us in this mind castle of yours?”
“Casey’s in the kitchen, of course. I see Dirk in charge of weapons, so he’s wherever you keep those in a castle. Jack’s the court jester so he enters my special chambers to make me laugh when I let him.”
“Your dad?”
“I’ve finally let him in there, too.”
“What about me? Do I ever get to enter? I can make you laugh, too.” He hasn’t mentioned me yet. He’s carefully not mentioned me.
“Ever get to enter? Stace, you never get to leave.”
“Never?”
“Never. I mean, it would be an asshole thing to do. You’re the architect. You built it for me, brick by brick.”
Chapter
Sixteen
