Page 19 of She Wolf

Gunner Grey:None of that. He was such a dick. Why girls liked

that shit I’ll never know

Me:You…watched Fifty Shades???

The dots bubble and stop. Then they return,

Gunner Grey:Go sort your life out already.

I giggle and put my phone back in my bag. Wow, if a few minutes of texting can make me this happy I can’t wait for more.

Chapter Four

Coralie

The school day finally comes to an end after a long, slow-moving afternoon and even slower faculty meeting. I get into my ‘mom’ car, a blue Ford crossover. Casey thinks it’s hilarious and wanted to buy me something fancier, like the Range Rover he bought because some website said it was the safest SUV on the planet to drive kids around in, but I refused his offer.

This one is perfectly fine. It has electric windows, air conditioning and parking sensors, what more does a girl need?

The day is still bright as I make my way to Jack’s practice rink and park up into the parking lot. I pull on my black wrap-around sweater before making my way across to the entrance, knowing the rink will be cold.

“Hey, Coralie!” I hear and turn to face the voice. Vincent, one of the hockey dads, comes jogging over. He’s got an unnecessary pair of shades on and is wearing a suit. It’s just an everyday one though, nothing like the sleek tailored suits Gunner wears.

Vincent is a little too slick. A bit tooNick.

“Oh, hi Vincent. How are you?” I ask, not at all interested.

“So good Coralie, just signed a big deal at work, so things are looking up. You ever going to take me up on that date?”

Sighing inwardly, I plaster on a smile. “Honestly, I’m swamped at the minute with work and Jack…”

He chuckles. “One day Coralie, one day.”

Not likely, Vincent.

He holds the door open for me and I thank him. We both get to the check-in desk where the receptionist tells us which rink Jack’s team is on today. After a few corridors and a right turn, I see them.

The weird smell of sweat and ice hits me and just like every other time, I’m hit with familiarity and a flood of childhood memories. Like Knox getting his hand stuck in a vending machine while we waited for Casey and Scott to finish practice or when we would spend time chasing their teammates siblings around the corridors.

I go and take a seat next to Jack’s best friend’s mom, Jasmine, a couple of rows up from the ice.

“Hey Jasmine, thank you for picking Jack up for me,” I say by way of greeting.

“No problem. They were good. Ate their fruit in the car and told me about the Marvel game they were playing during lunch.” I smile as I sweep my eyes across the ice, because that sounds about right.

You would think that it would be difficult to spot Jack among so many kids, but I see him straight away. He’s the one with the look of sheer joy on his face, visible through his cage. The one who is listening, just that bit harder. The one who when the coach blows the whistle to run the drill again, is the first to the puck, skating as hard as his little legs will carry him. Let me tell you it is a delight to watch.

Just like my brothers this sport has a way of lighting him up from the inside out.

After ten minutes, the coach brings the training session to a close and they all head to the changing room. Jack reappears not long after with his cheeks rosy, and his hair plastered to his head. I bend down to kiss him.

“Hi, Mom. Did you see me out there?” he asks, throwing his big bulky bag over his shoulder.

“I sure did. Do you need help with that buddy?”

“Mom, are you going to carry my bag onto the team bus for me when I’m in the NHL?”

I shake my head at him and suppress a laugh, seeing as though there will be a whole equipment team that will do that for him one day. “No son, that’s all you.”

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