Page 21 of Until We Burn
“Judging by how you’re treating me, I don’t think I want to know you,” Kai snaps.
“Fine! Then go! You don’t need to be here anymore.”
“Lucky for you, right?”
Kai drops my hand and storms off. Through the throng of dancing guests, I watch him go until he disappears.
I try to convince myself that Kai is better off hating me. It keeps him far away from me, and I know I can stay focused without him around me.
Kai hating me is prudent.
It’s safe.
Even if my heart breaks at the thought.
KAI
I slam the car door shut.
The old Hyundai Elantra shudders and creaks like it always does ever since Uncle Manu passed it down to me. Nothing about it has really changed.
Especially my reflection in the rearview mirror.
Moonlight skims across my black curls, slashes through the wide expanse of my nose, and glows into my dark green eyes. Traces of mama’s Tahitian-Native Hawaiian roots and papa’s English roots bind together in a way that’s always made people question what I am. I’m either not white enough or I’m not French Polynesian enough. It’s hard to be accepted for who I am when people have already made up their minds about me.
I wasn’t blind to that fact when I started playing hockey. Before I was a DHU Griffin, boys didn’t see me as another player on the ice. They only saw a kid who didn’t look like them. The doping rumors basically poured gasoline over the pyre people built for me. But I also set fire to it, too. I let the negative press get to me and fumbled our chance of getting to the Frozen Four, which made the rumors look true.
It’s been three years, and I hate how the rumors still follow me everywhere I go.
Even in places beyond the arena.
My phone suddenly rings.
I look down and see papa’s face flashing on the screen. He’s smiling awkwardly, a hand scratching at his brown hair, while his dark green eyes crinkle against the sun.
I sigh, running a hand over my face.
The timing can’t get any fucking worse.
I answer the call and smile into the camera.“Ia Orana,papa.”
“Je suis içi aussi!”Mama chimes in.I’m here, too!
She sidles up beside papa on the couch. Ha’apiti’s breeze ripples against her flowery sun dress that’s as bright as the pins holding back her curly bun.
She angles her head and smiles at me.“As-tu déjà mangé, mon cœur?”Did you eat yet, my heart?
“Oui.”
The rest of the conversation carries on in French.
“I went to an event tonight for my internship.”
Papa nods and claps his hands together. “Well, I’m glad you’re staying focused on your courses! I was afraid all that time swatting a puck would interfere with that,” he chuckles.
“I’m doing more than that, papa. I’m making my own money by training young hockey players.”
“Well, that’s nice. But don’t forget about what you promised us. The family business still needs a Mason-Maiau on board to run it.”
