Page 93 of Exes That Puck
Dylan continues, “What goes on in the house stays between us.”
Scott raises his hands. “Damn. Understood.”
During warm-ups, I try to shake off the anxiety, but it’s like a weight on my chest. Every time I think about what tonight is—the night Kara’s supposed to meet Josh—my skating gets sloppier.
When the game starts, I channel all that rage and frustration into my play. I’m hitting everything that moves, taking risks I shouldn’t take, playing angry instead of smart.
In the second period, some asshole from the opposing team catches me with my head down and drives me straight into the boards. I go down hard, the wind knocked out of me, stars exploding behind my eyes.
I lay on the ice for a moment, trying to catch my breath. Tonight. She’s with him tonight, and I can’t think straight.
Scott skates over and helps me up. “I got your back, man.”
I nod and skate to the bench, every muscle in my body screaming with frustration that has nothing to do with hockey.
We win, but barely. The bus ride home feels endless. I’d assumed we were staying overnight, so when Coach announces we’re driving straight back, I’m almost relieved. At least I’ll be in the same state as her.
When we finally get back to the house, we’re all beat and tired. I throw my gear in my room and head straight for the front door because I can’t sit around knowing that she’s out there about to fuck some guy named Josh Sampers for crying out loud.
“Where are you going?” Dylan asks when he sees me fully dressed.
“Out,” I answer, and he stands from the kitchen table.
“Where? It’s late.”
I shake my head. “I told her to fuck her date tonight. And I kind of change my mind, bro.”
Dylan blocks my path. “You can’t control her, man.”
“You don’t understand. I fucked up.”
“She’s going to do whatever she’s going to do.”
“Because I convinced her to!” My voice cracks with exhaustion and guilt. “I said some stupid ass shit I shouldn’t have said, and now I need to go take it back.”
Dylan shakes his head and physically steers me back toward my room. “I’m not letting you go anywhere. Not tonight. You need to cool off.”
“Dylan,” I warn.
He shakes his head. “Trust me, bro. Sleep it off.” He pushes me into my bedroom and closes the door behind me.
I stand there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. Did Dylan seriously push me into my room and demand that I not leave? Is that what a smart motherfucker does? Because I don’t like this.
I sink onto my bed anyway, head in my hands, and contemplate.
She’s probably with him right now.
The image tears at me.
34
I canceled on Josh at the last minute. Even gave him Lola’s address to pick me up, then backed out when I saw his car pull into the parking lot.
Lola peers out her apartment window, watching Josh sit in his car.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she says gently.
I peek out the window and sulk. “I can’t do this.”
