Page 73 of Actions and Reactions
He points at me excitedly, and I’m seriously only a second away from losing my shit at him.
“That right there is proof you’re still a hockey player. At least mentally.”
“Wha-what?” I sputter.
“You want to be coached, you expect a playbook, and there are no playbooks in real life. All we can do to get through loss, Silas, isfeel. You want to stop feeling that anger? Well, the first step is actually feeling it. And everything else you’re numbing. The first time you feel everything is going to suck, I’m not here to lie to you, and like I said, I won’t sugarcoat anything, but every time after is going to suck less. Eventually, you’ll also be able to feel the good things, and that will never suck. Once we’ve done that, then we can figure out what or who you need to forgive so that anger never shows up again.”
I stay quiet, processing every word he just said, and it makes sense—I think it does at least—but... I really don’t want to. It sounds awful.
“Hockey is your first love, Silas,” Dave says more quietly, and I look up into his warm eyes, filled withcompassion this time, not laughter. “You’re going to get through this when you realize it’s not youronlylove, and that you don’t have to stop loving it just because you can’t play it.”
“I do love it.” My words come out broken. “It’s all I wanted.”
This time, I’m the one who breaks.
18
Ivan
After readingSi’s last text I’m left wondering what’s even real anymore, but I don’t have a lot of time to do it since I’m at some studio downtown with the whole team and we’re making videos for sick intros before our games, and it’s going to be my turn soon.
I started out the day going for a run with Lex and Dad—I won—and then met up with the Pirates here. As soon as we’re done I’m going back home to have dinner with Dad and his girlfriend—and damn, that’s still such a weird sentence—and I’m staying there for the night too.
Tomorrow we have practice at the Empire’s practice rink, and then I’m not going to be able to go back home, because it’s pre-game protocol, but I’m taking advantage of the time I do have with Dad and Lex right now.
I know Gab’s making an exception for me, and Iappreciate it more than she can know, but I also need to make the team a priority. I don’t want to jeopardize our game because of my personal bullshit.
The producer calls my name, and as she gives me some instructions on how to cross or uncross my arms, what to do with my damn head, and all kinds of things about my eyebrows, my mind goes right back to Si.
I wish I could talk to him, really talk to him, and ask how he’s doing—if he’s in any pain still, what this trauma center is like—but I am glad he texted and that we can still stay in relative contact, even if it’s only for a short time every day.
I bid the guys goodbye when I’m done with my part for the day, then grab Dad’s car and settle in for LA traffic. By the time I get home it’s going on three and Dad is practically waiting at the door for me.
“What took you so long?” he asks urgently, and yeah, he looks a lot more nervous than he did this morning when I left. “I need to go pick up some things from the store.”
“Why didn’t you just get an Uber or something?” I hand him the keys without prompting.
“Because I didn’t know when you’d get here,” he snaps then walks away. “You better be showered and wearing something decent when I get back. I had to lend your brother some real pants since he only brought fucking sweatpants.” He’s out the door before I can comment on that, and I guess it’s a good thing, because I was going to point out how that right there is a sign that Lex is already as tall as him.
I stopped at six-four but my little brother is already an inch taller than me, and if that doesn’t bruise the ego, then I don’t know what will.
I walk by his room and see him lying on his bed, the infamous pants on the armchair by the window.
“What’s up?”
He keeps looking at his phone.
“Dad’s losing his shit because he thinks we’re going to embarrass him.”
“Did he think we weren’t?” I’m genuinely surprised.
Lex snorts. “I know, right?”
“Well, they’re getting here soon, so let’s not make it worse for him until we’re all eating and we can actually embarrass him, yeah?” I don’t want us to leaveAllywaiting.
I hurry through my shower and put on my good jeans and one of the T-shirts I have with no holes in it—I’m making an effort—and by the time I walk into the kitchen, I see Corinne has everything ready to go and I can smell a roast cooking in the oven.
“This looks awesome, Corinne,” I tell her while I get a Sprite from the fridge.
