Page 6 of One Shot
“You have to. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity! This is your one shot! To chase your dreams and find yourself again. Stop pretending you’ll find it somewhere in a bottle or this small ass town. And go get your one shot back. You know I would if I were you."
I can see the pleading in his bright blue eyes that mirror my own.
“You have to do this, Laur. Please, for me.”
I wake up with a jolt and look around my room.
No Nick.
No bottle of prosecco.
Thank goodness.
My head is pounding with a hangover about to set in. I feel my bed—no prosecco on the comforter—so no spit take. It was a dream. Just like he said, and he’s right. I can’t live like this. I’ll do it—for Nick, for Mom so she can stop worrying about me, and for my dad, who would be heartbroken if I gave up being around hockey. Maybe . . . Just maybe, I’ll do it a little bit for myself too. Even if it was only dream, Nick’s presence made me realize how lonely I am from isolating myself. I miss being social. I miss smiling. I miss laughing. I miss enjoying life.
Walking downstairs, Mom and Dominic are still sitting in the kitchen. I find a glass of water sitting on the table for me.
“Mom, where are those pancakes? Making all these lists, shopping, and packing are going to require some carbs and energy.”
I glance between Mom and Dominic before looking Mom in the eyes.
“I’m going to West next month.”
Mom squeals. Dominic hands me some aspirin and another glass of water. He can be useful I suppose.
Chapter three
Laur
After being forced into every store within a twenty-mile radius, I’m finally packed and ready to go to WMU. Mom, Dominic, and I are making the eight-hour drive to Frostburg, Michigan from our home in Illinois. Nick and I could do it in seven and a half hours. We’d only make one stop to pee and get gas and snacks while the tank filled up, and then we’d be right back on the road. I swear with Mom and Dominic it’s almost nine hours—they stop a minimum of four times.
I should have done more research on the current team—I haven’t been able to bring myself to yet. I still expect to see my brother when I’m anywhere near a hockey rink. I keep holding onto hope that this opportunity with the Wyverns will be healing and bring me closer to him than I expect—at least I’ll be doing something with my life again. I’ll finish school and hopefully be on track for my dream career if it goes well.
If I’m honest with myself, I know deep down I still want my hockey marketing dream career almost more than anything. I just feel an immense amount of guilt when Nick can’t pursue his dreams, but I know he would want this for me too. I try to keep reminding myself of that.
Thankfully, Dominic volunteered to drive the entire way. The drive is very rainy and gloomy, but I snooze on and off in the backseat, attempting to avoid the anxiety creeping in the closer we get to WMU. The rain stopped almost instantly as we arrived. I spot the sun trying to peek through the clouds.
“Are you bouncing your leg again? Or is that the car sputtering?” Dominic asks.
I mumble “sorry” and still my bouncing knee in the backseat.
Dominic pulls into the driveway of a little blue house. Butterflies fill my stomach as I take in my new home. The little blue house is clearly dated but has a charming and comforting appeal. Bren “coincidently” had a room open in the three-bedroom house she lived in. Shocker!
I have no idea how she coordinated this with Nick and kept it a secret all this time. I’m very thankful I didn’t have to search for a place to live on my own or have a random roommate that leaves chicken on the counter and then still eats it three days later or something even more bizarre.
As I stand in the driveway and take in my new home, my cousin sprints down the driveway to greet me.
“SHE’S HERE!” Bren shrieks in such a shrill girly tone, which almost makes me cringe.
I am by no means a girly-girl who squeals in shrill tones or gossips about boys and lingerie like it’s part of my daily routine. The only time anyone would consider me a woo-girl is when I’m watching hockey. Other than that, I am the farthest thing from girly.
“BRENNIE BEAN!”
I’m giddy with excitement as I turn around, and pull her into a hug. Bren’s gorgeous Latina curls bounce as she jumps up and down with excitement in my arms, just like a little jumping bean. I forgot how contagious her bubbly personality is. She’s almost an entire foot shorter than me, but with her obsession for heeled shoes you would never be able to tell. I squeeze her petite frame tight. Having someone to hug and something to be excited about was now a foreign concept to me. The realization strikes me that I might have been missing this more than I led myself to believe. I think it’s a good sign I made the right decision.
“This is Jaylin, our housemate and a close friend of mine,” Bren says, as a girl with light brown hair wearing a flowy bohemian top and denim shorts comes out of the house.
“Hey there. Let me help you all,” Jaylin says as she hugs me tight. “We’re going to have the best year! And it will be even better if Bren can keep her shrieking to a minimum!”
