Just Pretending

by Leah Rooper, Kate Rooper

  If she’s not, it’s your fault, a voice inside me sneers.

  I shoot the puck down toward the boys at the other end of the rink. The puck only makes it to center ice.

  “Jesus, Evans,” Gervase grumbles as he skates to get the puck. “Just because you have no shot at the NHL, that doesn’t mean you can fuck it up for the rest of us.”

  I bite down hard on my mouth guard but skate past him without saying anything. Whatever. He’s right. I don’t have a shot, so why am I even here?

  Alice skates up beside me and bumps my arm. “You hanging in there, bud?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I’m sure Madison will have filled her and Hayden in on my complete and utter stupidity.

  She stands up on the tips of her skates and whispers, “I’m going left next drill.” She skates off.

  Coach blows his whistle, and we get into position. Alice faces off against Gervase. The whistle blows again, and Alice wins the faceoff, just like she knew she would. She dekes right—but I know she’s going to go left. She told me. I can block her and slightly redeem my terrible showing at today’s practice.

  But I can’t get my legs to work. I can see it in Alice’s face, that confused look. She’s skating slower than I’ve ever seen. She’s waiting for me to take the puck from her. My body just won’t cooperate.

  “Move, Evans!” she mouths. But I can’t. She skates past me, shoots, and scores on our goalie.

  “Fuck, Evans!” Daniel cries, throwing his stick to the ice. “You could have had her!”

  Hayden skates between the two of us. “Chill out. It’s just a practice.”

  “It’s not just a practice,” Daniel says bitterly. “If he plays like a half-bit rookie at our next game, we’re doomed.”

  “It’s not like I’m not trying,” I say, bumping into Daniel as I pass him. “I’m going to the bench.”

  Daniel turns on his skates to face me. “That’s just it. You’re not trying. And you’re letting us down.”

  The whole team is looking at me. I can feel their eyes drilling holes in my back. I don’t say anything, just keep skating toward the bench.

  “Yeah, that’s it!” Daniel cries. “Keep skating! You don’t wanna face the truth, so you run away, like always!”

  “That’s enough,” Hayden says. “He’s got a lot going on right now.”

  Daniel barks a laugh. “He’s got a lot going on right now? Yeah, I’m sure he does. Slumming it at his dad’s store, not applying for university, sucking it up on the ice. Sure seems like a lot going on.”

  Coach blows his whistle. “Okay, okay, back to work, boys—”

  But I round on Daniel. “How could I expect you to understand, huh? I’m sure life must be really rough for you, taking paychecks from your baby sister and living in a freaking castle every summer!”

  “Coach said back to work,” Hayden says, looking between Daniel and me. Tension sparks between us. “This doesn’t belong on the ice.”

  “You know what doesn’t belong on the ice?” Daniel says. “That sorry son of a bitch, Number Thirteen.”

  “Okay, I get it!” I cry. “I messed up. I never should have lied to Eva. And I’m sorry.” My fists ball in my gloves. “But you have no idea what it’s like to be me. What it’s like to wake up every morning in my life and then go spend time with you guys. My best friends are the brother of an NHL player and a freaking prince. You two could have anything you want. Any school you want. Any girl you want.” I shake my head, not able to look at them. “Now you’re both going to be drafted by the NHL, and where does that leave me? I’m not smart enough for school. I’m not good enough to keep playing hockey.” My chest heaves. “I just wanted to be someone else for a change.”

  “Tyler,” Hayden says and starts skating toward me.

  Daniel plants a hand on Hayden’s arm. “You think Tremblay and I have a shot at the NHL because we have more money, more opportunities? That’s not true. It’s because we work harder. You’re just so convinced you’re going to fail, you don’t even try.”

  “I do try!”

  “Yeah? Like you tried with Eva?”

  “That’s different—”

  “You pushed her away, Evans,” Daniel calls. “Another excuse, just like always. Well, I’m tired of it. I’m tired of you not fighting for anything!”

  Anger and shame well up inside of me like boiling water. “You want to fight?” I snarl. “Then let’s fight.” I throw my gloves to the ice. A chorus of hoots and hollers fly up from the team.

  Daniel snickers and shakes his head. Then he throws his gloves off, too.

  “Coach!” Alice cries. “Stop them!”

  Coach Zabinski just crosses his arms. “I’m tired of everyone bringing their drama to my arena. Since when did my ice rink become a court for royal bureaucracy? Let them duke it out the way men should.” Alice glares at him and he clears his throat. “And women, too.”

  Daniel and I face off across from each other, our teammates forming a circle around us.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Hayden says to me.

  “Yes, I do.”

  Daniel pounds his fists together. “All right, let’s finish what we started in Eldonia. And this time, you won’t have a girl to protect you.”

  That’s it. I’m so tired of it. So tired of living with this fear inside of me. I’m not going to back down to Daniel. I roar, bursting toward him and swinging my fists. Daniel dodges left, then comes at me with a hook. I duck away and lunge for his helmet. He grabs my arms, and then we’re grappling, his strength versus mine.

  With a burst of adrenaline, I throw him to the ground. We’re a flurry of fists and elbows. I manage to get on top of him, pinning one arm down with my hand and the other with my knee. “I said I’m sorry, okay?”

  “What, Evans?” Daniel scowls. “Should we forgive you because you’re just the little poor kid with the dead mom?”

  I roar and slam my fist against his face. I hear a crack and blood runs from his nose, over his teeth. He only laughs.

  “I’m a poor kid, too, you know,” Daniel says. “I’ve got a dead dad. And I’ve done shitty things. But I own up to them.” Then, with a grunt, he throws me off of him. My back slams against the ice. Then Daniel’s on top of me, blood and sweat dripping from his face. He holds his fist up, inches from my nose. “Because, guess what, Evans? Things may suck for you sometimes, and I’m not saying they don’t, but you’ve got a dad and a sister who love you, a team who would do anything for you, and opportunities that you just refuse to take. Why? Because you’re afraid. You’re afraid, Evans.”

  Daniel sucks in a breath then drops his fists and rolls off of me. We lie beside each other on the ice, panting. He turns to me, his eyes free of that darkness, and says in a breathy voice, “So, don’t give me the bullshit excuses anymore. It’s time for you to man up and look in the mirror. You are a good dude, Evans, and it’s not anyone’s fault but yours that you refuse to see it.”

  I lie there, my breath ragged, my face bloody. My voice cracks. “What do I do?” I turn and stare into Daniel’s eyes. “What do I do now?”

  Daniel pushes himself up, then holds out a hand for me. “Dammit, Evans,” he says. “You go get your girl.”

  The store is dark by the time I gather the courage to walk in. I use my personal key and creep through the rows of hockey gear, basketballs, and jerseys. Soft light creeps out from Dad’s office. I hear a shuffle and see Millie in the corner of the store, asleep on a pile of gymnasium mats.

  I take a deep breath as I stand outside Dad’s door. I haven’t seen him since this morning, since he heard what I said.

  This is a garbage life.

  Shame and guilt flood me. Daniel’s right—no more excuses. Maybe getting my head knocked around was exactly what I needed.

  I tap on the door.

  Dad opens it, blinking confusedly at me. “Hey, Ty. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “You weren’t at home, so I thought I’d come find you…�
� I scrub the back of my neck. “Can I come in?”

  Dad opens the door wider then plops down in his old office chair. I walk in, shut the door, and stand awkwardly.

  “Pull up a chair.” Dad gestures to the old drum stool tucked against the wall. I slump down on it. Dad crosses his legs and folds his hands in his lap. “So.”

  So…so where do I begin? With an explanation? An apology?

  Dad’s face is like a blank canvas. There are a million strokes I need to make. None of them are the wrong one. I just need to choose. So, I pick the beginning.

  “Dad,” I say, “I think I’m dyslexic.”

  Dad leans forward but doesn’t say anything.

  “And I hate myself for it. And I hated words because they didn’t come easily to me. But I can do it if I need to. Read and write, I mean. I’m not afraid of struggling anymore.”

  Dad puts a hand on my leg, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because…” I say, voice wavering. “I didn’t want to let you down. To let Mom down. And…because trying to do it was so hard. I was so afraid to apply to schools and get rejection letters I couldn’t even read. So…so it was easier to think that you needed me.”

  I feel so much relief. Telling Dad was the first step. Now, together, we can work on moving forward. I don’t have to do this all on my own.

  Dad’s eyes drift to his desk, to a framed picture of my mother. She looks beautiful, her hair a shimmering golden red. “You were always such a bright kid, Ty. Not just clever, but bright. Bursting with energy, and you had this glow. A glow your mom used to call your sunshine. Somewhere down the line, after your mom died and things got tight at the store…it was like a cloud had drifted over.”

  Dad grabs my hand and looks down, lip shaking. “I saw it…I saw that sunshine disappear and thought there was nothing I could do about it. I was so worried about keeping the store afloat and making sure you and Millie were fed and going to school…I never tried to part those clouds for you, son. I’m sorry.”

  I grit my jaw. I don’t think I’ve ever hated words so much as I do right now. It’s so hard to find the right ones. “I-I didn’t mean what I said. About not liking my life. And I don’t blame you, Dad, I swear I don’t. I see how much you do for me and for Mils, and how much you sacrifice. I just feel like…like…” My nails bite into my palms. “It’s not that it’s a garbage life. It’s that I’m a garbage son.”

  Dad stands up from his chair and guides me up with him. He puts his hands on either side of my face and stares at me intently. I’m an inch taller than him now, and bigger in build, yet I still feel like he could lift me up if I fell down, hold me in his arms like I was a little kid.

  “You listen to me, son,” he says. “You don’t have to take the weight of this whole family and put it on your shoulders. Mils and me, we’re stronger than you think. And so are you. So, don’t you go holding back on us because you’re afraid that we won’t be okay. I promise you, we will be.”

  Grief and regret well up, and tears pool in my eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Dad. I’ve ruined everything. I messed it up—”

  Dad grips my face tighter. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on with that girl, but I know that she flew all the way here to see you. And when you were writing to her, that sunshine wasn’t just back. It was luminous as the sky itself.”

  That light…that wasn’t Tiberius’s light. That was mine. And it wasn’t the name or the title that made me brave.

  It was her. Eva. Her love. Her light. I thought I was a black and white painting, but now I see I don’t need Tiberius to shine with joyful blue and courageous red and ambitious green.

  I’ve been that person all along. She just showed me a new way to look at the painting.

  “Dad,” I say, placing my hand on his shoulder. “I gotta go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I flash a smile at him as I dart through the door. “I gotta paint.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eva

  The movie credits start rolling, and Daniel reaches for the remote. “I know what people say, but if Jack tried to get on, that plank would have totally sunk, and then they’d both be frozen hunks of ice.” He leans back. “She made the smart move. Madison better hope our cruise to Alaska is up to all the safety regulations, because I will feel no guilt about hogging a nice long piece of plywood all to myself if things go bad.”

  I ignore him, instead choosing to stare out the window of his townhouse. The snow is falling hard in Chicago today.

  Daniel scoots closer to me. “So, what you want to watch now? We’ve got Mamma Mia and The Greatest Showman on our list.”

  I turn to my brother.

  “Personally,” he says, looking down at the DVD cases, “I’m leaning toward The Greatest Showman. Hugh really tore me up in Les Mis, and I’m curious to see what his musical genius will bring to a more upbeat production.”

  “Daniel,” I say, voice broken and scratchy, “what’s wrong with me?”

  He drops the DVD cases to the floor. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Eva.” His eyes flick to the coffee table. “The only thing wrong is your ice cream bowl is empty. I’ll get you some more.”

  I give a pathetic sniff as he grabs my bowl and hops over the back of the couch. “With extra chocolate sauce, please.”

  I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s been two days since Tyler completely rejected me at his house. Two days of crying my eyes out and watching movies in my pajamas. Mother would say a queen should never spare a thought for a commoner, let alone a tear.

  But isn’t this what I wanted? A typical teenage experience?

  Well, I got it, heartbreak and all.

  Madison and Alice came to my hotel room the night it all happened. They did their best to be supportive, including eating ice cream cake straight from a box and singing loudly at the top of our lungs to Miley Cyrus. But I know it must be hard for them. Tyler is their teammate, and they only met me last summer. And even though they didn’t say it, maybe they realize deep down what Tyler said was true. The two of us don’t belong together.

  But it was Daniel I ran to right after Tyler screamed at me. It was Daniel who held me as I cried. It was Daniel who left for hockey practice and came back with a broken nose. That only makes me feel worse, knowing I’ve come between my brother and his best friend.

  “Don’t worry, you messed him up real good,” Daniel had said to me, as if I should be proud.

  But how can I take pleasure in that? I just see him, standing there in the snow. Even though he was yelling at me, it felt more like he was yelling at himself. Like he was doing everything he could to stop from breaking apart.

  I just thought that, after everything we’d been through, he would have trusted me to help him fix it.

  I know I should go back to Eldonia, but I’m just not ready yet. Back in Eldonia, there is only Queen Eva, and she doesn’t have the luxury of grief.

  Still, I can’t escape everything. Mother called me this morning to ask for my opinion on the new tax regulations the parliament suggested.

  I play with a loose thread on my skirt. Perhaps Mother and I will never agree on everything, and maybe she does still view me as an impulsive child, but at least she realizes she needs me.

  The doorbell rings, and I hear Daniel pad from the kitchen to the door, then murmured voices. It’s probably his weekly shipment of hair gel from Amazon Prime.

  “Hey, Eva,” Daniel calls from the doorway. I sit up. He stands there, almost sheepishly, one foot crossed in front of the other. “I tried to hold her off, but—”

  “He can’t resist my charm.” Millie, Tyler’s little sister—not his second cousin or whatever—walks in behind Daniel. She looks up dreamily at him.

  “Millie,” I say and clamber to my feet. Ice cream sandwich wrappers and empty candy bags fall to the floor. “What are you doing here? Is…Is Tyler—”

  “It’s just me,” she says, stepping forward. She’s dressed in
a simple velvet dress and matching headband. “My dad’s in the car outside. But I am here on behalf of him. My big brother Tyler, that is.”

  My heart staggers in my chest. “Mille,” I say, hearing the steel tone of the queen in my voice, “your brother made it perfectly clear to me what our situation is. Was. I don’t want to hear any more from him.”

  “You don’t have to hear,” she says and holds out a slim silver envelope. “Just see.”

  I look to Daniel, who just shrugs. Slowly, I extend my hand and take the envelope. My name is written on the front.

  I flip open the back and pull out a small postcard. It’s a thick square of watercolor paper. Brightly colored flowers are painted around the edges. In the middle, it reads:

  Dear Queen Evangeline Harwell,

  Tyler Evans invites you to attend his first art exhibit “Splattered Life.”

  One night only.

  Fred’s Sport Shoppe

  December 31st, 4:00pm

  The invitation is handwritten, and I recognize the printing from the note I received with my Falcons jersey. Tyler wrote this.

  I stare at Millie. “What is this?”

  She shrugs. “How should I know? Guess you’ll have to go and find out.”

  “You know,” I say, crossing my arms, “it’s a pretty low blow, getting you to deliver this.”

  “Or smart. Dad says my cuteness is radiant. Wouldn’t you agree, Prince Daniel?” She flirts, inching closer to him.

  He scoots away.

  “I already have arrangements on December thirty-first,” I tell her. “Daniel has a game.”

  “It’s before the game!” she says. “See the time!”

  “I suppose it is.”

  “And Queen Eva…I also want to apologize.” Millie shifts from foot to foot. “I’m sorry for pretending to be Lady Camilla Bloom Blossom Mermaidia Unicorndra, the sixth cousin, twice removed, of Prince Tiberius of Perienza. I just thought it would be cool to be her.”

  “I think,” I say, turning the invitation over in my hand, “I understand the feeling of wanting to be someone different. I’ll consider this invitation, Millie, on one condition.”