by Mignon Mykel
The first month of school was uneventful as hell, but the hockey season was off to a freaking phenomenal start. I lived for Fridays during the school year. Lived for the games that would help put me on the map for who I was as a player, not for who my family was.
Four games in and we had won all four by at least two points.
There were forty-two seconds left on the clock and we were up by one.
And the puck was in our possession.
Milwaukee was getting nervous. They were playing badly and doing stupid things, things like high-sticking and putting themselves on the penalty kill. That wasn’t how you tied the score this close to the end.
We were in a face-off, myself and the one of the two D-men they had on the ice near their crease. Being a strong forward, my location was to ensure that these guys would think I was the scorer, I was the person that, if we won the face-off—and we would—would get the puck and drive it home.
Really, I was just a decoy at this very moment. If Alex got the puck to me, cool, great. But it wasn’t going to be his intention.
I rocked my head from side to side, stretching out my neck as I got into position. The zebra manning this game stood in the center of the face-off circle, waiting for Alex and Milwaukee’s guy, a kid named Ferreksson, to get into position.
The kid by me—Black was his last name, I thought—he was silent and his eyes hadn’t left the zebra for a moment since we rounded one another here.
“You really think you’re going to win this face-off, Black?” I asked, my own eyes on the puck as it was getting ready to be put into play. “Look at your guys. A bunch of D-men who can’t properly defend the puck. What are you going to do if your guy magically manages to get possession, hmm? Try to drive it down to the other side? Oh that’s right, you did that earlier in the game, Black. That was the icing call where we scored our first goal.”
In my peripheral, I could see Black shift in his spot. He was getting antsy.
I loved antsy.
I slid my stick just slightly, just enough that my blade bounced against his. “Oops. My mistake.”
Black cleared his throat.
“You’re real good at this silent thing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the silent and deadly type but…man,” the puck dropped and I pushed back, quickly moving behind Black, “you’re just not that good.”
Alex cleared the puck just enough for Ty to retrieve it. His stick moves were fucking amazing, and he skated around the guy defending against him, shouldering around the next guy, all while looking for either an open slot or an open man. He was also really good at wasting the clock. I glanced up quickly, noting that we were down to ten seconds.
This goal wasn’t important to us. We could fuck around with the puck the rest of the game.
But it was the prerogative of the situation. We were going to score.
I moved into position, finding an open spot, and sure as shit, the dumb-asses all moved to try and defend the goal. The only problem with that was it put their three piranhas on my ass, leaving just enough room, just enough of an opening, for Ty to rocket the puck over their goaltender’s shoulder.
And when the buzzer sounded, East erupted in cheers.
Emotions were running high in the locker room. The start of our season couldn’t be going any better, but then again, this was what East was known for in the high school hockey world. However we started the season, we were sure to dominate throughout.
After our mandatory post game chat with Coach, where he awarded MVP of the game to Ty, the team got ready to leave. Showers were running, music was playing, and there was chatter among the sounds.
Some guys were talking about the game. Others, namely a senior named Mack Prie, was literally tutoring one of the younger kids on varsity, Jason Reed, on algebra as they got dressed.
Mack was like fucking Clark Kent. Nerdy as all get out one moment, but a superhero when he took off his glasses.
Another senior on the team, Wes Mistral, was talking out of his ass like he always did. He was the guy who had no problem talking about who he slept with and which ‘good girl’ in school was next on his list to ‘chase down and pin down.’
Today’s girl was his summer hook-up, a girl who didn’t even go to our school, let alone live in Wisconsin. “She was so fucking hot. Get this, she was a junior in college. She knew what she was doing, if you know what I mean. Yeah?” I glanced over at him after pulling my tee over my head, just as Wes snapped his towel toward one of the guys he called a friend, soaking him up like he was the be-all end-all.
Wes’s locker was a few down from mine, so I had no choice but to listen to his conquests. Frankly, I thought he was an ass and couldn’t figure out what all the girls saw in him, but to each her own I guess.
I tried to turn my attention to a conversation Alex and Ty were having, but Wes’s loud, obnoxious voice pulled my attention back toward him.
“She was all, ‘Oh Wes. Oh daddy, pull my hair!’ and it just, damn son, it was over from there.”
I thought about how sometimes Mom and Dad playfully called one another Mama and Daddy. Mom’s no-kids-allowed convertible also had vanity plates that said ‘MAMAS.’
I frowned, refusing to let the thought fully settle.
But it did.
Did that mean…?
God I wanted to vomit.
Surely Mom and Dad didn’t…
I mean, I knew they had sex. I didn’t want to think about them having sex, but c’mon, what couple wasn’t having sex. Thank God I didn’t walk in on them or, God, hear them going at it.
But if they were calling each other mama and daddy in public, was it them finding sly ways to turn eacho—
God, barf, no, I couldn’t think about that.
Mom and Dad weren’t having sex, and they weren’t calling each other mama and daddy for any other reason than that’s what they called one another when all of us were younger.
I remembered Ken calling Dad by his name once when she was a teen. Dad had laughed it off. Now, if I ever called Dad, ‘Noah…’
McKenna—hell, all three girls—could do no wrong in dad’s eyes.
“Yo, Ports.” Alex cuffed me in the shoulder.
Thank God. I couldn’t keep my head in that conversation.
I shook my head and rolled my shoulder, dislodging Alex’s hand. “What’s up?”
“You just went all quiet, like you were thinking about your girl or something.” Alex smirked.
Now, Mo telling me to pull her hair… I didn’t think I could get on the ‘daddy’ bandwagon but…
“Dude’s got it so fucking bad,” Alex laughed, shaking my shoulder now. “She must have some magical pussy because it’s the only one he’s been hell bent over since losing his V-card.”
I grinned and shook my head. “Shut up, Alex.”
“Awwwwp! He didn’t deny it, you see that, Ty? You gettin’ it on tonight, Ports?” Alex asked, grinding the air between us, his pelvis entirely too close to my face.
“God, Alex, move that fucking thing.” I pushed against his stomach as I stood up to close my locker.
He moved to close his own locker, grabbing his bag out of it before turning back to me and Ty. “You boys want to get pizza or something?”
I shook my head. “Can’t, my parents are here and taking me home.” I refused to feel like a shmuck because my parents had to drive me around. Did it bother me? Abso-fucking-lutely, but I managed to stay fairly clean-nosed the last month and a half, and wasn’t on anybody’s shit list at the moment. I wasn’t about to start now.
Two more months and I’d get my car back.
So long as I stayed on this path.
They let me hang with Mo, and were cool about my hockey schedule. I wasn’t about to start fucking that all up right now.
I shouldered my bag and waved to the two of them. “See you in the morning, boys.” The team had the option to skate on Saturday mornings after games, but my boys and I usually went to the weight ro
om instead. We would have a mandatory practice Sunday, so it was nice to have one day off skates.
“Kiss mommy and daddy good night for me.”
Fucking Alex. Always had to ruin a decent conversation with those damn jabs.
“Fuck off, dickhead,” I said, but around a grin, as I flipped him the bird.
I pulled out my phone to text Dad quickly, telling him I was on my way out. He and mom stopped waiting by the locker room after a freshman year game and I asked them not to.
One, the other guys still got a hard-on when they saw my dad. Yeah, he played hockey. Yes, so do my brothers. But fuck, he was just a guy.
But also, two, because it was embarrassing having your mom and dad wait around for you.
I shot off the text to Dad then pulled up Mo’s picture, sending her a text as well. Her competitive cheer team had a huge competition this weekend, so regardless if I wanted some of her ‘magical pussy,’ as Alex called it, it was going to have to wait until Sunday night at the earliest.
Me: U on ur way to madison?
I continued to walk through the Ice Plex, waiting for her response. She left school during sixth period for her team’s last practice before competition. Our school was pretty lenient about things like that—so long as you had a note and a valid reason, you could get out of almost anything.
When she still hadn’t responded by the time I reached the doors, I pocketed my phone and pushed through, finding Dad’s truck in the parking lot in the same spot where he always parked.
He started always parking there when Myke’s team started to win games.
Continued to park there as Caleb’s team, eventually with the help of Jon Jon, won game after game.
So while his superstitious parking job didn’t start with me, it actually made me proud to know he kept up that tradition with me and my games, and that we continued to have great winning streaks.
The truck was running with the lights on, but I was sure they hadn’t been waiting too long. Our chat with Coach wasn’t a long one.
I went to the back of Dad’s truck and pulled down the gate, stuffing my gear bag into the covered bed, before moving to hop into the backseat of the truck on the driver’s side.
“Good game, Ports,” Dad said before I could even close the door.
“Thanks.”
“I saw you running your mouth, Porter,” Mom said, but her voice was amused.
I grinned and shrugged, pulling on my seat belt. “They expect it from me.”
Mom laughed and in the lights of the dash, I could see her shake her head.
“Have you heard from Mo? Did they make it to Madison?” Mom shifted in her seat so she could look back at me.
“No, not yet.” I pulled my phone from my back pocket to check if she responded yet.
Mom had been pretty excited when I told her I was dating Mo, to tell you the truth. Mo and I had been good friends for a lot of our school years, so I think Mom just expected us to eventually move on to the dating side of things.
When Dad found out, he just lifted a brow and asked if he needed to talk to me about sex.
I didn’t tell him that Mo and I had been sleeping together for a few years.
They didn’t need to know that.
But they were cool about Mo, which made seeing her a lot easier. They invited her to dinner all the time and treated her like they treated any of my siblings’ dates.
I turned the screen on and unlocked my phone when I saw she did respond.
Mo: Yep! Had another practice and we just got back from dinner. We toured alliant energy center too.
Me: that where ur competing?
Mo: Yeah.
Mo: How was the game?
Me: we won of course ;) 4-2
Mo: But of course ^_^
Me: what time do you compete tomorrow again?
Mo: We don’t go on until 1215. Then if we place in the top 5, we do our 2nd routine Sun. If we place top 3 we get a bid to go to Worlds in
Mo: Florida :D
Me: that’s awesome keep my updated. wish i could be there
Mo: Maybe if we make it to FL? It’s over spring break…………
Me: n I wont have hockey. like how you think babe
Mo: lol I have to go, getting strange looks ;) I’ll talk to you later!
Me: good luck tmrw
Mo: thank you!
I looked up and saw we were already close to home.
“Mo got there,” I said, knowing Mom wanted to know.
“Oh, good. Did you wish her good luck?” Mom looked back at me again so I nodded.
“Good.” Mom turned around again and I caught Dad as he glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
“Should we stop for food?” Dad’s eyes locked with mine a moment before he turned his attention back to the road.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“We can stop anywhere, Ports.”
I stretched in the back seat. “I just want to go to bed.” It was true, and the yawn that took over in the middle of my speech more than proved it.
Mom and Dad started to have a quiet conversation in the front and I tuned them out as I looked out the window into the dark night. I was so glad I was on Dad’s good side again.
So glad.
November
Mo and I had been “officially” dating for two and half months, and I wanted to take my girl out. I still didn’t have my car, and I’d be damned if I was taking her out in her car. That just didn’t sit right.
While Mom and Dad were more than cool with me and Mo, I wasn’t about to ask to use Dad’s truck.
Mainly because I may have failed a test earlier in the week, and Dad wasn’t exactly thrilled with me at the moment.
So I waited for a Friday when Dad was out of town. He flew out to San Diego to watch Jon Jon and Caleb play, and the only reason why Mom didn’t too was because she had a wedding to shoot tomorrow.
Dad was going to cancel his plans because Mom couldn’t go, but she insisted he still go out and have a boys’ weekend with Jonny and Cael.
And no, I wasn’t invited. Talk about a boys’ weekend, when one of your boys doesn’t get to tag along.
No skin off my nose, I had plans anyway.
Because mom wasn’t going, she scheduled another photography shoot for tonight, so I was home by myself for the first time since the community center incident. She would be out for at least three hours which gave me a decent window of time.
I waited ten minutes after she left before I locked up the house and made my way to Dad’s truck. This truck was a beast. It wasn’t one of those scrawny trucks that sometimes occupied the road. Oh no. This was a big F-350 that could seat five more than comfortably. Dad had some version of this truck for as long as I could remember. I learned to drive in it, so I was more than used to the speed-feel difference and its touchy brakes.
I glanced at the clock on the radio before pulling out of the long drive attached to our house. I told Mo I’d be by her house at five but that only gave me five minutes. It was ten minutes to her house.
I was going to be late.
I punched out a text to her and tossed my phone on the passenger seat before putting the truck in drive. I buckled as I made my way down the drive, slowing at the end of the drive to quickly look to my left, where the blind curve was. When I was sure it was clear, I eased into the road.
That was when the flash of lights caught my attention.
I glanced back to my left, the truck nearly completely out of the drive now, to see what stole my attention, and went lights out.
Fuck, my head hurt.
I fought to lift my eyelids, my surroundings and the sounds slowly filtering in past the pounding in my head. There was something soft in front of me and I could hear someone telling me to sit tight, they were almost ready to get me out.
Get me out?
Out of where?
I lifted my brows which finally allowed me to pull my eyelids up.
I was in Dad’s truck.
&nbs
p; The soft thing in front of me was the deployed airbag.
Oh shit.
Oh fuck.
I swung my head around to fully take in my surroundings. The action caused such a severe ache in my head I had to squeeze my eyes shut again.
I took a deep breath to calm the nausea my headache was causing and opened my eyes once again. All the sounds were fully focused now.
There was the sound of glass crunching as people walked over the shards left in the street.
There were voices as someone was talking to someone else.
There were flashing red and blue lights, coming from two cop cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck. The fire truck had me scrambling to be sure I didn’t set Dad’s truck on fire. If this thing was smoking, I was so out.
No smoke.
I looked to my left where the door was punched in close to me and the window was shattered but still in place. Through the cracks, I saw the car that hit me.
It was just a Charger, but the person had to have been flying to hit the truck and cause the damage it did. The front end of the car was folded up, having received most of the force. Still, the car managed to push the driver’s door into me.
“What’s your name, kid?”
I turned my head to my right where the voice was coming from. I lifted a shaking hand to my eyes, pushing my palm into my eye socket to try and ease the pain my headache was causing.
“Porter Prescott.”
“Can you unbuckle your seat belt, Porter?” The guy had the passenger door open and was leaning onto the seat.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” I lowered my hand and did so.
“You look good, kid. Anything feel off? Anything hurt?”
“Just my head,” I mumbled, sliding out of the safety belt. My side ached where the door had pushed in, but it was minor compared to my head.
“On a scale of one to ten, what would it be?”
“Ten.”
I played hockey. I was accustomed to pain.
But my head.
Good God, my fucking head killed.
