I hummed.
Drew propped his feet up on the ledge of the glass and folded his arms across his chest. “And I hope that’s not too long. This place is kind of creepy when it’s empty.”
He had a point, but it had already filled up a bit since I got here thirty minutes ago. Staff and vendors wandered around, setting up for the game. Only half of the rink lights were on, casting long shadows across the ice.
“Then why are you here?” I asked. “To be honest, I was expecting Mason.”
“He was going to come, but I told him to let me havethis one.”
“Why is that? You think you can handle me?”
He shrugged and stared out onto the ice. I think it was his first time back in these seats too. He came to all my games that he could, but the tickets I gave him were in a different section across the rink. He could have just bought tickets for these seats if he wanted to, but he never did. I would have seen him if he had. I checked everyhome game.
There was a faraway look in his eyes. A look I was sure was on my face just a few minutes ago. I stayed quiet and lethim think.
Sometimes I forgot how hard Drew had it after our parents died. I wasn’t even sure if he had time to process it then. He had come back from college to watch my championship game when the plane crashed. He later told me that the police had called him in the middle of my game, but we had fifteen minutes left until the final buzzer. When it was over and Mason and I were celebrating our big win, hefound me.
At first, I was confused. Why did he look so sad? We had won. And where were Mom and Dad? Dad had said they may miss the first period, but they would be there to take us out for food afterward. I hadn’t seen them in the stands because I hadn’t looked. I was too focused on the game to care about anything else. I just expected them tobe there.
It was when I asked Drew where they were that I finally noticed the tears in Drew’s eyes. They weren’t happy, proud tears; Drew was never one for that many emotions anyway. Behind him, Mason’s mom was the exact copy of him—full of pity and heartbreak. I hadn’t understood that something bad was happening until Drew motioned me forward then led me away.
Mason had moved to follow us, but his mom grabbed onto his arm, giving us privacy.
In a barely hidden corner off the path of the main locker room hallway, Drew told me about our parents. My cries had echoed through the halls, clashing with the cheers of my team farther in the arena, as I collapsed in Drew’s arms.
I didn’t remember much of what happened after. Only that Mason’s mom drove us home, not wanting Drew behind the wheel. I cuddled into Drew in the back seat while Mason constantly peeked back at us from the passenger’s seat, tears running silently downhis face.
While I spent the next couple weeks sobbing in my room, Drew didn’t have that luxury. He had a funeral to plan. Our family lawyer tried to help, but some things Drew felt he had to do himself, like raise me. Drew was still a kid himself and everyone was telling him I would be better off with an adult. Mason’s mom was ready to take me in a heartbeat, but Drew refused.
So for the last of my teenage years, Drew was my guardian. He was a full-time student while having to deal with me, an ungrateful teenager who didn’t understand what he was doing for me and what he wasgiving up.
It was only when I moved away for hockey training and lived alone for a few months that I realized all the things he didn’t have to do.
For all his tough-guy exterior, Drew was the most compassionate person I’d ever known.
“You’re kind of an idiot, Riles.”
“W-what the fuck? Why?”
His head flopped to the side, making lazy eye contact, and he regarded me with fond irritation.
“Why are you so determined to give up everything for this game? What’s the point?”
I gaped at him. “How could you ask that? Mom and Dad wanted me to be the best hockey player I could be. You know, it was the last thing they told me. ‘We’ll be there soon, Riley. Be the best youcan be.’”
“And you can’t be a great hockey player and have a love life? Because I’m sure that there are quite a few players that would strongly disagreewith you.”
“Sure, but none of them are dating ateammate.”
Drew inclined his head in acquiescence. “True.”
“I can’t let anything threaten my career. I have to bethe best.”
“Why? Does being the best make you happy?”
“Of course. I wanted to be the best NHL goalie since the first time I strapped on pads and stopped my first puck.”
He chuckled. “I know. You ran around the house in full pads and told everyone to bean you with tennis balls.”
