Page 2 of Revolve
“You good?” he asks when I don’t answer.
He’s watching me like a hawk, waiting for me to say somethingthat would explain the reason I came home so early. After Vik’s text that said to call him, I slipped out of Iona and into my car.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just checking.” He shrugs. “By the way, this came for you.” Kian hands me a white envelope, and the moment I see the pretentious Donovan family crest, I nearly crush it in my fist.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Looks super fancy. What is it?”
My jaw tightens as I think of the video call last week with both my parents smiling wide—my mom’s weak one and my dad’s plastic one—pressed together so tight on the screen like they were trying to fool themselves. They’d gone on about starting over, about making the family what it used to be, like nothing had happened. I hung up before they could finish.
How could my mom just sit there and forget all the sleepless nights, the days she wouldn’t eat, how I had to feed her and my little sister, Ada, on the days she couldn’t even look at her?
“Not important.” I head to my room before he asks a million more questions. I toss the envelope on my desk, and it lands behind the picture frame of Ada and me at our last pairs skating competition. We used to love that time together, until we realized our mom was the only one showing up to those competitions.
I head straight for the shower, eager to shed last night’s beer-stained and marijuana-scented clothes. My room isn’t anything special, but my shower is my sanctuary. When Aiden’s grandparents bought him this house freshman year, he didn’t hesitate to offer us all a place to stay, completely rent-free, even though I insisted on paying rent countless times. I’m grateful, especially since, technically, I’m an active member of Kappa Sigma Zeta.
It wasn’t my plan to get so hammered during rush week that I accidentally pledged and got accepted on the spot. Kian, on the other hand, tried to pledge, but didn’t get in. I didn’t hear the end of that for weeks.
As I duck under the shower, the water soaks my hair, and the soap suds slide down my body. The pounding in my head from Vik’s news, my parents’ invitation, and last night’s reckless drinking dissolves with each swirl of water down the drain. This is the one place I can breathe and pretend like I have my shit together; no one’s ever been in here with me, and that’s how I like it.
By the time I’m dressed, Kian’s knocking. “Practice got moved up!” he yells. “I’ll be in the car.”
THE SHARP SOUNDof Coach’s whistle spears through my hangover. “Did that look like a Division I team to any of you? For fuck’s sake, the peewees played better than you today.”
“To be fair, the peewees are pretty damn good,” I say.
“You gotta cut us some slack, Coach. We just came back from summer break. You know how it is.” Kian winks and skates to Kilner to give his stomach a playful punch.
Coach might be slower on his feet these days, but he’d easily take any of us in a one-on-one game. He ignores the poke and thankfully doesn’t break our right-winger’s hand.
“You’ve got your work cut out for you, so next practice I want you to come in like you weren’t fucking around all summer. Your new captain will make sure of that, right, Dylan?”
Huh?“Don’t you mean Sampson?”
Tyler Sampson, our alternate captain now that Aiden’s gone, shakes his head. Despite spending nearly every day this summer with Sampson, our conversations rarely ventured beyond drunken exploits. It was simple. We got shit-faced, then did it all over again.
“I’m stepping down as captain,” he says, and everyone goes still. “With pre-law I don’t have much time, so I can’t be the captain this team needs. And our vote makes you captain.”
Vote?When the fuck did we vote?
“If you missed the vote, you forfeited your right to a democracy,” Coach says.
Kian skates backward, bumping into me. “Remember Aiden’s birthday party the other semester? You weren’t at practice the next day, and that’s when we had the vote.”
The reminder of that night tightens my gut. It was in February, when my mom called me crying about my dad. How he was never home, and how she was done with all of it.
I turn to see the guys staring at me like this is normal, and then it hits me that most of these idiots are in frats. In my attempt to be more involved with the team and my frat, I took a few of them under my wing. They practiced with me on my solo sessions, but I hadn’t meant forthis. I’ve become their fucking messiah.
“Welcome your new captain, Dylan Donovan.”
The hoots and hollers echo across the rink, and I haven’t even processed this shit.Captain?Fuck no.
“Coach, you can’t be serious.”
“I don’t control the vote. It’s what your teammates wanted. And considering you’ll be off to New York next year, you’ll want to learn some leadership and discipline for once.”
