Page 5 of Crush
“So if you weren't watching the game, what were you up to instead?” I asked.
They looked at each other, then me.
Cam shrugged. “We've been down here.”
“Wait, you've been down here the entire time? Since Ileft?”
They nodded.
“Did you boys do your homework?”
Their heads hung low and they toed at the fake ice.
“Did you eat dinner, at least?”
“Estel told us we could eat when we're ready,” Nick said.
I sighed. “You boys gotta eat if you want to grow big and strong. How many times do I have to tell you? Nutrition is just as important as practice and training. Head upstairs and eat some dinner. Then do your homework.”
“But the food Estel makes is so gross,” Cam whined.
“Yeah, we hate her cooking,” Nick added.
I shrugged. “Sometimes, you just gotta eat what you get, boys.”
The boys grumbled as they coasted off the ice.
***
The dreaded talk with Chloe was next.
I went to her bedroom. Aggressive music blared so loudly from her speakers, the bass made the floor and walls shake.
For God's sake. I should've soundproofed her room instead of that rink.
“Chloe!” I yelled, knocking on her door. She didn't answer, so I knocked harder and louder. She couldn't hear a thing over her music.
When she still didn't answer the door, I didn't have a choice—I turned the knob and entered her room.
The domain of a rebellious teen girl: walls painted radioactive green, pictures of her friends that she'dgluedto the wall (sigh), posters of bands and movies and teen heartthrobs taped from floor to ceiling. I'd never let Chloe know it, but every time I entered this place, I was a little intimidated by a world I can't possibly understand.
Chloe finally saw me standing in her doorway. Her face twisted with outrage and she flung her iPad aside. She killed the music and started ranting, arms waving in the air.
“Dad!You can't just barge in here like that! Ever hear of a thing calledprivacy?!”
I groaned. “Ever hear of the volume knob? I tried knocking but you couldn't hear me over this death metal.”
“It'snotdeath metal, Dad. You really think I'd listen todeathmetal? Who do you even think I am? Do you even know me atall?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I'm not a music expert, Chloe. I like jazz and country.”
“Uuuugh.” Her head rolled back and she let out an exasperated howl. I guess I couldn't have possibly said anything more offensive to a teenage girl. “Don't remind me.”
“Look, if you can't hear me banging on your door, your music is too loud.”
She rolled her eyes. “All you care about isrulesthis,rulesthat. You never let me do anything.”
“Listen.” I took a seat on her bed and patted the spot next to me. The moody teen made me wait a beat before she reluctantly made her way over, her head and shoulders swaying with an unbelievable amount of sass. “Maybe I do have a lot of rules. But that's because you're still a child—”
