My heart might burst. He’s even handsome in all his gear, shaggy hockey hair curling out of his helmet, goofy grin showing all his teeth, and the exuberance of a puppy.
Somehow, this is where I belong.
Chapter
Six
Ari
He made a list.
I know how lists work. Lists have pros and cons on them. Mom had a list, too. Found it after she left. I never showed it to anyone. No one else needs to live through pain like that. It was her “should I stay or should I go” list.
There was a long list of pros. There was only one con. One. That’s what made it so scary.
You can have a hundred reasons to stay, but it only takes one to make you go.
It’s why the Meyer motto is to jump ship at a whiff of trouble. Leave before you get left.
I don’t look where I toss my bag down. It lands at the feet of Doug Abernathy. He’s not the most patient human alive.
“What the fuck, Meyer?” He kicks my bag out of his way, sitting on the bench to tape his socks.
“Sorry. I have shit on my mind.”
“I saw you hanging around that geeky kid. That what you have on your mind?”
Fire lights my hand. Oh, how I’d love to pound on him again for saying a single thing about Cody. But there’s something heavy on my chest and that heavy thing’s making it impossible for me to lift my arms. All my wind’s been sucked away. All my purpose. Punching Doug might shut his loud mouth for a second, but there would be nothing after that.
Because it’s all dark inside me.
But I’ve decided on something I’ll tell them later. This is my last game with this team. The other guys are all right, but Doug isn’t. It’s the right decision, but it only reminds me that one bad thing is all it takes. One bad thing to make someone leave. One bad thing can overshadow all the good things.
Chill air hits my face as I glide onto the freshly Zambonied ice. I shouldn’t look for Cody, but it’s the first thing I do, my gaze landing on the concession stand where he dutifully sits. Usually. But he’s not there.
Maybe he’s writing out his list.
They say “punch in the gut”, but this is a punch in the heart, stealing the life force from my limbs. No more blood going to them, oxygen, happiness, nothing. Just saggy bones hanging, dragging me down. If there was any chance I thought that what I felt for Cody was just a crush, that empty concession stand is a fucking metaphor for my existence without him.
But he makes lists.
Lists.
Fucking. Stupid. Family-wrecking. Lists.
I spin around and he’s there. All of them are there. Cody’s got Rachel in his lap. Merc waves at me, smiling for once in his miserable life. The boys stampede the stands, earning dirty glares from the other on-lookers.
Cody’s not at his concession stand because he chose to watch me instead. He’s never done this before.
Bea’s smug as fuck, using her eyes to point out what I can already see.
The darkness that had crawled under my skin fades away, releasing the strain weighing on my muscles. The ice becomes the most buoyant thing in the world, and I float over it. Hop, skip, and jump over it, leaping into the air. I almost fall on my face. I’m sure the kids will laugh at that.
Then I play hockey. I don’t think about lists, or leaving, or morons like Doug. Instead, my movements are dictated by heartbeats. By hearing one prickly voice in my head. By imagining what he looks like when his head’s thrown back, laughter pealing from his lungs.
I score a goal and fuck it; I blow Cody a kiss. Rachel catches it and sticks it to his face.
As soon as the game’s over, I walk up to the team’s organizer. “That was my last game,” I say.
