Puck Performance: BTU Alumni Series Book #4

by Ciz, Alley

  Ryan nods, looking so much like our dad when we did something to make him proud it’s scary.

  “Melody’s family is nothing like ours. Her parents don’t even go see her shows. They just don’t go. Like who does that?”

  I jump up from the couch, unable to sit still any longer.

  “Not all text threads have to turn into Coven Conversations, but damn…how does a parent not text their child back? Or return their phone calls?”

  Left, right. Left, right.

  Reach the end of the couch, spin on my heel.

  Left, right. Left, right.

  Other end, turn around.

  “You know she told me she can go months at a time without hearing from them?” I keep pacing and look toward the TV to see a deep frown on Ryan’s face.

  Any time I think of the craptastic things my girl had to—and still does—deal with, I feel all rage-y like the Hulk. Children need more from their parents than bankrolling. There has not been one major event in my life or my siblings’ lives that at least one of my parents hasn’t been there for, and they have sons playing on two different NHL teams.

  “Nate…” His name comes out a little growly. Sorry, but it does. Rome wasn’t built in a day, people. “He is the only member of her family who has made a point of seeing her in every single production she’s been a part of. I can’t be the wedge that comes between them.”

  Ryan’s eyes bounce between mine and I know he’s taking his time, figuring out what to ask, and how.

  “What is your beef with the guy anyway? It’s gone on too long for it to be about what happened at hockey camp. Hell, even the Olympics were more than two years ago—it can’t still be about any of that.”

  “Ummm…” I drop my gaze again, ashamed to admit this part of the saga. “I may have led him to believe I hooked up with his girlfriend after we beat his team in the Frozen Four.”

  “You were dating Rocky then.”

  “I don’t think he realized I had a girlfriend, or…I don’t know. Maybe he thought I didn’t care if I did.” I shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I didn’t actually hook up with his girlfriend—I just let him think I did.”

  “Does Rocky know this?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I can’t keep the disbelief out of my voice. I like being alive. It doesn’t matter that nothing happened; she would have killed me on principle alone.

  “So why the hell would you do something like that?”

  Now for the hard part.

  I can do this.

  I will do this.

  It’s for Mels, for my Sweet Potato.

  “It was my way of getting back at him for all the digs he made.”

  “Well, he needs to find a hobby or something because that’s exactly what he spews—crap. He really should hire ATS to handle his social media so he stops posting bullshit about you and keeps his feed relevant to himself. Nothing he’s ever said is true.”

  “Isn’t it though?” My voice breaks on the last word. I’m petrified of Ryan saying yes.

  “The fuck?” Incredulous blue eyes blaze like the hottest part of a flame. I guess I should be grateful we are doing this on video chat and not in person. The back of my head tingles as if it, too, knows it would have been smacked if Ryan were here.

  I turn around, unable to survive seeing pity on his face when I say what I’m going to next.

  “You’re pretty much the reason I’m in the NHL.”

  “Again…what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “You did get me a spot at that camp.”

  Ryan’s nostrils flare. “The only way that is true is that I aged out and my slot was available.”

  I don’t say anything. Fuck, this is harder than I could have imagined. I feel like I should be drawn and quartered for having such treacherous thoughts.

  “Jase, look at me.”

  Craning my neck to look over my shoulder at the television, I only spin around when I see he’s nearing Jordan-level mad.

  “Now, you listen and you listen good.” He punctuates the demand with a serious finger point. “That is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard in my life.” It’s his turn to yank a few strands of hair from his head.

  “Is it really?”

  “Fucking hell, Jason.” All the cursing tells me just how pissed he is. Whether it’s directed at me or on my behalf is yet to be seen. “Please, please tell me how you can even entertain that notion?”

  “Are you trying to say the scouts didn’t come sniffing because you were on the team? Hell”—I smack my thighs—“the NHL wanted you when you were still in high school. You turned down a multi-million-dollar contract to play in college, all so BTU had a reason to keep sniffing around.”

  “Not true.”

  I ignore him. Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop.

  “BTU wanted me because you wanted me on the team.”

  “I have half a mind to call our sister right now and have her smack some sense into you.” I pray that’s an empty threat. “Fine.” He huffs out a breath. “I can’t deny that may have factored into their decision, but the Titans would never have offered you a full ride if they didn’t think you could deliver.” He holds up a hand when I go to cut in. “You would never have been drafted by the Storm if not for your talent. No one, not even me, works harder than you do.”

  He collapses back against the couch, his shoulders sinking. This, this right here is what I didn’t want. I don’t need the words to know he’s internalizing his guilt about the situation. He’s not doing it to be a martyr or anything; it’s just how he’s wired.

  “I’m sorry, brother. It was never my intention to make you feel this way.”

  It’s a good thing I have all this baggage, because I’m about to go on one hell of a guilt trip.

  “Don’t, Ry. None of this is on you. It’s my issues. I alone own them. I wish I could tell you why it hit me harder any time it came from Nate, but I can’t. I love you. There is not one person in this world who is a better brother than you.”

  “I love you too, bro.” He holds a fist out in front of him and I do the same, virtually bumping it.

  Chest lighter now that the elephant in the room is off of it, I jump over the back of the couch and retake my seat. I’m not quite sure how he’s gonna react when I tell him this part of why Nate Bishop sucks at life. I may be the hothead of the two of us, but Ryan wrote the book on how to be an overprotective big brother.

  Maybe I should be the bigger guy and reach out to Nate to suggest he up his life insurance policy.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: So you finally decided to nut up and do something about getting your girl back?

  THE BIG HAMMER: How the fuck did you know?

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: *GIF of Michelle Tanner rolling her eyes and saying, “Duh.”*

  THE BIG HAMMER: Shit. I was JUST on the phone with Ryan. Please let me be the one to tell him about this. You know how jealous he gets of our—in his words—“freaking twin ESP crap”

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: *GIF of Michelle Tanner saying, “You got it dude.”*

  THE BIG HAMMER: What’s with all the Full House GIFs?

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Sorry. I’ve been binge-watching it during midnight feedings. Your nephew is no joke.

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: *picture of baby Logan passed out milk drunk*

  THE BIG HAMMER: Man I love that little dude. But for reals, I need help. BIG help.

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Are you saying *gasp* you need The Coven?

  THE BIG HAMMER: *the biggest of sighs* Yes.

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: On it.

  From the Group Message Thread of The Coven

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Okay ladies. Another one bites the dust.

  MAKES BOYS CRY: Oh, oh…this is my FAVORITE.

  YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Please

  YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Please

  YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Please tell me it’s Jase?

  ALPHABET SOUP: Oh, did my bestie finally come to his
senses?

  QUEEN OF SMUT: About damn time, Trip.

  SANTA’S COOKIE SUPPLIER: Vince said, “Bro, took you long enough to bend the knee.”

  THE OG PITA: Oh, I love the drama.

  PROTEIN PRINCESS: Seems fitting. He IS trying to win back an actress, so…

  THE BIG HAMMER: Are you guys done yet?

  ALPHABET SOUP: Seriously?

  QUEEN OF SMUT: Are you really asking us that right now?

  MAKES BOYS CRY: It’s like you don’t even know us.

  YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: *GIF of woman putting hand to chest and gasping*

  THE OG PITA: *GIF of woman fainting*

  PROTEIN PRINCESS: *GIF of Sutton Foster asking, “Really?”*

  PROTEIN PRINCESS: ^^See what I did there? She’s a big Broadway actress.

  SANTA’S COOKIE SUPPLIER: Oh that’s a good one.

  SANTA’S COOKIE SUPPLIER: *GIF of Audra McDonald saying, “Really?”*

  YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: *GIF of Idina Menzel saying, “Really?”*

  THE BIG HAMMER: JD, can you rein in your squirrels, please?

  ALPHABET SOUP: *string of squirrel emojis*

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Okay, okay. What did you have in mind?

  THE BIG HAMMER: First, I need to apologize.

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: YEAH you do.

  THE BIG HAMMER: Really feeling the love right now.

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Whatever. You deserve it. You were a dick. But please…proceed.

  THE BIG HAMMER: *big sigh* So Mels has mentioned her family—outside of her douchebag brother—doesn’t come to her opening nights.

  ALPHABET SOUP: Um…you’re trying to win her back. Word of advice: don’t call her brother a d-bag.

  SANTA’S COOKIE SUPPLIER: *GIF of girl pointing up saying, “This.”*

  QUEEN OF SMUT: Do you need me to give you notes on How to Grovel 101?

  THE BIG HAMMER: You guys are the WORST!!

  MAKES BOYS CRY: And yet you still come to us for help *emoji of person shrugging*

  THE BIG HAMMER: *GIF of person banging their head against the wall*

  MOTHER OF DRAGONS: Okay, before we break my twin, let’s at least hear him out.

  THE OG PITA: Unless he’s sending a voice memo, we aren’t ACTUALLY hearing him.

  YOU KNOW YOU WANNA: Beth, have I told you lately how much I LOVE that you are a part of our squad?

  THE OG PITA: *GIF of Melissa McCarthy making a heart with her hands*

  THE BIG HAMMER: OMG. I can’t even. I give up. I’m out.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  From the Group Message Thread of the Boys—AKA Counterfeit Coven Conversations

  THE BIG HAMMER: OMG. Why? Why did I do this to myself?

  HOLLYWOOD (Cali): Do I even want to know?

  CAPTAIN AMERICA (Ryan): Haha, I think I know.

  THE BRICK WALL (Jake): Yup. There’s only one thing capable of bringing on a reaction like this.

  DAUNTLESS SUPERMAN: **whispers** The Coven

  WANNA TUCK (Tucker): What are you whispering for, bro? They are like Beetlejuice—you have to say it three times to summon them.

  WANNA TUCK: *GIF of Beetlejuice*

  THE KRAKEN: There are days I legitimately wonder why I am friends with you guys.

  THE BOONDOCK SAINT (Nick): Bro, you aren’t friends with us. You’re family.

  THE GREEN MONSTER (Damon): True story.

  BIG DECK (Deck): Have we taught you nothing?

  THE SPIN DOCTOR (Sammy): You should know by now, you don’t just marry one person when you marry a Covenette.

  ROCKSTAR MAN (Jamie): This is also true. As an outsider, I can speak from experience.

  THE SEAL DEAL (Justin): God, I miss the days when Madz didn’t really have female friends. They are scary.

  JUST RAY (Ray): Are we going to help our boy out or what?

  THE FEROCIOUS TEDDY BEAR (Griff): If you were reaching out to The Coven, I assume this has to be about Melody?

  HUGE HOSE (Wyatt): Um…anyone want to tell me why my wife looks like someone offered her a lifetime supply of calorie-free ice cream?

  THE BIG HAMMER: *facepalm emoji*

  DAUNTLESS SUPERMAN: Bro, you know the Covenettes have ZERO chill. You seeking them out for help is like throwing chum in the water.

  CAPTAIN AMERICA: Can we maybe get around to ACTUALLY helping Jase?

  THE BRICK WALL: ^^I second this.

  THE SPIN DOCTOR: You guys like to give the girls shit, but damn this conversation is just as scatterbrained as one of theirs.

  WANNA TUCK: Ouch.

  BIG DECK: Oh, burn man.

  THE BIG HAMMER: OMG. I give up.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Opening night.

  When my alarm goes off, I almost feel like I’m tempting the theater gods by not being more excited. Like I might as well walk through the doors and yell, “Macbeth.”

  Our short tour of previews received rave reviews, and already our production scale is being talked about in the same way as many of the greats.

  Tony eligibility is there, and if the nominating committee likes me, I might finally have a shot at accomplishing the only dream I’ve ever had.

  Well, at least the only one I had until I went and fell in love with Jase Donnelly, only to flop.

  Thank god for routines to keep me sane.

  Performance days all follow the same itinerary, with a few variations on the days of dual performances, but opening night has a few special and time-honored traditions.

  If I’m going to have any chance of making it to curtain call without crying, I need to focus on my routine and not anything else. Which means not texting my brother—again—because if he ignores me—again—I don’t think I’ll recover. I haven’t heard a word from him since before I left for Boston. This is the longest we’ve gone without communicating, and it’s killing me as much as not being with Jase is.

  I get out of bed and do a few stretches to loosen up.

  Breakfast is a simple affair of fruit and yogurt before I spend twenty minutes with my steamer to help open up my vocal cords. I scroll through social media to pass the time, and no I do not check Jase’s (total lie).

  In the shower, I warm up with a few songs from the show, my favorite of late being the ballad I sing after Marilyn and Arthur Miller break up. It is gut-wrenching and heartbreaking. Pretty much it speaks to how I’ve felt the last month and a half.

  As luck would have it, the Bruisers clinched the first round of playoffs two nights ago, and Nate will be free until the outcome of the Columbus/Tampa bracket is determined. The question is—will he come?

  Our already frosty relationship has deteriorated to the point that I don’t even recognize it. He’s mad at me for dating Jase, and I’m hurt he flaked on our plans when the show was in Boston. It is a passive-aggressive cycle I’m completely over.

  To be honest, I almost wish the Bruisers hadn’t won in five games so at least I could say he wasn’t in the audience because of work.

  One of the last things I do before leaving for the theater is pack my performance bag:

  Water bottle.

  Jase won’t be there.

  Hand sanitizer.

  What is Jase doing tonight?

  Body spray.

  Is he dating someone new?

  Baggie of bobby pins (because you can never have enough of them).

  Should I try texting him again?

  Lip balm.

  Why hasn’t Nate at least sent a “Break a leg” text?

  Hairbrush.

  It’s fine. Ella will be in the audience.

  A picture of Zoey, Ella, and me from high school.

  They are your family, Mels.

  A picture of Nate and me after the last show I was in.

  Will we ever take another one of these again?

  My makeup and hair supplies are in a separate kit, which I leave in my dressing room instead of lugging it back and forth.

  In an effort to drown out the toxic thoughts my mind insists on torturi
ng me with, I pop in my earphones, crank up “My Shot” from Hamilton, and rap along with Lin-Manuel Miranda. I need to remember this is my shot and I’m not going to lose it because of a broken heart.