“I just wanted to hear your voice, sweetie, and see how you’re really doing.”
“The shoulder barely hurts.”
“I’m not really talking about the shoulder. Hold on a minute.”
As she talked to someone in the background, Killian pushed open the door to their room. Diego followed him in quietly. Taking a seat on the corner of his bed, Killian managed to get his coat off and fling it onto his desk chair before toeing off his snow-covered boots.
“I’m back.” The happiness from his mom’s voice was gone.
“Everything okay there?” Killian pulled off his wet socks, waiting for his mom to tell him what was wrong.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just Mrs. Martinez causing a fuss in the kitchen. Apparently, she’s having a dinner party tomorrow, and I’m expected to come up with the meal with a day’s notice.”
If superheroes really existed, Killian’s mom would totally have a secret identity. She’d worked on the Martinez ranch, running their kitchens and household, for over a decade. He wasn’t quite sure how she had dealt with them for so long. He’d grown up hating rich folks because of the way they treated his family.
Still, after years of being here surrounded by much nicer rich kids, he wasn’t sure what he thought of them.
“Can you tell her no?” If his mom didn’t get it perfect, Mrs. Martinez would throw a fit.
“You know how she is, boyo.” She sighed. “I wish you were here to help me.”
He did too. He loved standing alongside his mom in the kitchens whenever he had his ranch hand chores done. She’d taught him how to cook—as if anyone here in Ohio would believe that.
“I’m sorry.” His voice lowered. “I should be there.” Not across the country playing hockey. It was selfish of him when his family needed him.
“Oh, that’s not what I meant, darlin’. I would never want you to get stuck here. I want you out there chasing your dreams. Sometimes I just miss my son. It kills me that we can’t even bring you home.” She paused. “I even asked Mrs. Martinez for a loan. The tickets are double the price this close to the holidays, but it’s not like they lack the money. She told me if I want to afford nice things maybe I should work harder.” Her laugh turned into a semi-sob.
It was ridiculous. Killian’s mom was the hardest-working person he’d ever known.
But hard work only got you so far. “Ma…” He looked to Diego to make sure he’d become engrossed in his computer again. The kids at Defiance Academy saw the Texan goaltender a certain way. He didn’t want them knowing his one weak spot was his family.
“You know it’s not true, right?” He wished he could see her and reassure her face to face. “You shouldn’t have to work yourself to death just to get by. My entire life, you’ve done whatever was necessary to give us everything we need. You worked extra hours to pay for my hockey gear and travel teams. You always made sure either you or one of the hands could drive me to practices. If I make it, Ma, it’s because of you.” And he’d take care of her. He needed to make it to the NHL so his mom and sisters never had to worry about anything again.
She sniffled. “Who needs money when they have a kid like you?”
He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as it hit him with full force. He wouldn’t get to spend Christmas with his family. Again. His gaze drifted around the room, taking in the cinder block walls, industrial furniture, and tile floor. “I have to get ready for dinner.”
“Okay. Love you, kid.”
“You too, Ma.”
He hung up and dropped the phone onto the bed beside him. Leaning back against his pillows, he tried to imagine what it would be like to be any of the other kids at this school. They didn’t need scholarships. They could afford to go home whenever they wanted.
If they failed at their dreams, another one would pop up and they’d succeed at that.
But then he thought of summers working the ranch with Zoe or teaching Rory how to ride. People like Kenny and Diego might have platinum cards in their parents’ names and connections that would get them places, but they chose to miss holidays with their families. They didn’t have a mom who’d hunt down anyone who tried to hurt them.
No, Killian realized he didn’t want to switch places with anyone else. When he snapped out of his own thoughts and sat up to rummage under his bed for dry shoes, he caught Diego watching him.
Was he judging him for how close he was with his mom?
Did Killian care?
He tried so hard to keep the academy kids from learning anything about him, but now, the bit of knowledge was out there, and he couldn’t take it back.
Broody, angry, determined Killian “Killer” James was a total momma’s boy.
4
Diego
“Okay. Love you, kid.” Diego heard the echo of his roommate’s mother on the phone. He always liked the sound of her voice.
“You too, Ma.” Killian ended the call and dropped his phone onto the bed. He seemed sad.
Diego probably should have felt bad about eavesdropping on his roommate’s phone calls, but he found Killian and his family fascinating. He’d gathered Killian didn’t have the money to travel home for Christmas, but he couldn’t imagine how it could be that expensive.
Diego was an only child raised by a single, wealthy father after his mother died when he was only four years old. His dad was a tech giant in Silicon Valley, so he didn’t really know what it was like to worry about money. It was always there. But family. Siblings. These things were foreign concepts to Diego.
He thought of his own mother, Catalina. He could only remember little things about her. She was beautiful, and she’d loved him, but his memories of her were more like feelings.
“What’s it like to have a mom?” The question slipped past his lips before he could shove it back into his thoughts. Diego moved from his desk chair to sit on the edge of his bed, his hands fumbling for something to keep him busy, so he wouldn’t have to see the strange look Killian gave him.
“I don’t know.” Killian shrugged. “Like having a mom.”
“My mom died when I was four.”
Killian focused on tying his shoes. “I’m sorry. My dad left a long time ago, so we’ve always just had Mom. She’s the best.”
“And you have two sisters?”
“Yeah.” Killian glanced up at him with that weird look most people gave him when he asked too many questions.
“Little sisters?”
“Yeah.” Sometimes talking to Killian was like talking to a grunting bear.
“What are their names?”
“Zoe is thirteen and Rory is six.”
“What’s it like having little sisters?”
“Pretty much like this.” Killian reached for his coat.
“Are you saying I’m like a little sister?” Diego didn’t know what to make of that. Was it an insult?
“Right now, you’re channeling Rory with all the questions.”
“Sorry.”
Killian shrugged. “You coming?”
“What?”
“We’re meeting Kenny in the dining hall.”
“Oh, right. I’ll get my coat.” Diego couldn’t recall ever going to the dining hall for dinner with anyone. He usually just brought his meals back to the dorm so he could work. He ate with his friends at lunch, but evening hours were precious work hours for him. Especially when Killian was busy with practice or studying. He could never complain about having a noisy roommate. Diego pulled a thick sweater over his head and tugged his coat on over it.
“Do you really talk to your mom every day?” Diego triple-draped a thermal scarf around his neck and shoved his hands into padded gloves.
“Yes, she would probably call the police to come check on me if I didn’t call or at least text.” Killian held the door open for him. “Dude, we’re just going across the quad, not the Alaskan tundra, what’s with all the layers?”
Diego looked up at the massive wall that was Killian James. Diego was almost as ta
ll as him, but he didn’t have anywhere near the bulk. “I’m from California. I don’t like snow, and the temperature dropped again. It’s freezing out there.” Diego grabbed his bag on the way out.
“I’m from Texas. Never even saw snow till my first semester here.” Killian headed down the hall to the stairs.
“What’s that like? Texas?”
“Enough with the questions, Diego. Texas is Texas. They have horses, mosquitoes the size of birds, and good Texican food.”
“I’m not a fan of Mexican food. I prefer Asian fusion.”
“You’re definitely from California.” The freezing wind rushed through the quad, cutting right through Diego’s many layers. The dining hall wasn’t far, but in the growing darkness, the cold air was just too much. Diego ran all over campus most days. It was a habit he’d learned from his dad. Get where you’re going quickly so you can get back to work. Right now, he needed to get inside the dining hall where it was warm.
“Diego, wait.” Killian called behind him, but he knew where the dining hall was, and if he wanted a stroll through the snow, he could take his sweet time. Diego needed heat.
Stamping his boots off in the dining hall entryway, he waited for Killian to catch up.
“I’ve never seen anyone run like that. You ever think about joining the track team with those long legs?”
“I’m really not the athletic type. I just run fast.”
“That’s kinda the whole point of track.” Killian followed him into the cafeteria. Kenny already waited for them at a table in the dining room. Some girl with dreadlocks sat with him. It took him a moment to recall her name. Wylder. He’d met her a few times before. She scared him.
“Since it’s break, food options are probably crap,” Killian muttered.
“I stay on campus during most breaks. They usually do something nice for everyone who stays here for Christmas. Oh, look, they have a Poké bar.” Diego headed for the second of their two options. During normal school term, their dining options were endless.
“Isn’t that, like, bait?” Killian took a step over to the counter with a frown.
“No, it’s fish with rice and veggies. It’s delicious.”
“But it’s raw.”
“Well, yeah, but you can get squid if you don’t like fish.”
“Nope.” Killian glanced at option one. “Hot wings. That’s more my speed.”
Diego shrugged, loading up on rice, tuna, salmon, crispy tofu, tons of veggies, sweet chili sauce, avocado, and seaweed salad.
“What to drink?” the petite Asian woman behind the counter asked.
“Iced boba green tea with mango puree? And can you use my cup?” He pulled his large travel mug out of his bag. “And no straw, please.”
“Sure, sure.” She nodded. “Saving the planet one straw at a time?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She reached for a pair of chopsticks.
“I’ve got those too, thanks.” He headed for the table, dreaming of a future where thousands of gamers made the same choices every day.
“What the crap is that?” Wylder asked when Diego and Killian sat down with Kenny.
“Poké,” Diego said.
“That’s like rich people sushi, right?” She leaned forward to inspect his bowl.
“Uh. It’s like sushi, yeah. I don’t know if it’s all that expensive.”
Killian snorted, an irritated look on his face.
Diego frowned, wondering how he’d offended him. He seemed to have a knack for it.
“Looks good. Killer, go get me some Poké.”
“Go get it yourself, Wylder. And what are you even doing here now? Didn’t you go home yesterday?”
“Yeah, but the food’s better here, I just don’t have a dining card for break. I live like fifteen minutes away, and I’m already bored. Nicky and Avery aren’t back for the holidays yet.
“What about Becks? He still on tour with Nari?” Kenny asked.
Diego had no idea who these people were, so he just focused on eating and listening to the conversation about some country music star they all seemed to know.
Between Kenny and Killian, they had about fifty hot wings, and it seemed to be turning into a competition of how many they could eat. How they could eat so much was beyond him, but they were both huge jocks.
Another guy walked up. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.” Diego didn’t know this guy either, but from the way the others greeted him, he must have been another hockey player.
“Wings are good.” Killian doused his with sriracha.
Diego winced. He couldn’t do spicy hot food, much to his Venezuelan grandmother’s dismay.
“Will, get me some sushi bowl stuff like what Diego has,” Wylder asked.
“Diego?” Will looked around the table. “Oh, hey, man. I think you’re in my English class.”
“Diego’s in all AP classes.” Killian dropped another bone back in the basket. “There’s no way you’re in AP junior English, dude.”
“Definitely not. Well, I need food. Wylds, come show me what you want.”
It surprised Diego that his roommate knew what kind of classes he took.
“We’re hitting the ice in the morning,” Kenny said. “Want to help me whip Will into shape?”
“Can’t.” Killian grunted at his shoulder. “Coach won’t clear me to train over break. At least not until my shoulder heals up.”
“Then why stay? You should have gone home to rest.”
“The last game was just a few days ago. Not enough time to get a ticket home.”
“That’s too bad, man, but we could use your eyes if you want to come play coach while we practice.”
“I might do that.” Killian nodded, avoiding Diego’s eyes.
Why did he lie? Killian couldn’t go home because his mom couldn’t afford it.
“Not you too, man?” Killian groaned when Will and Wylder returned with Poké bowls.
“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it, guys. Poké is okay.” Will laughed at his own joke, wedging himself between Kenny and Wylder.
“What’s with all the home utensils?” Kenny asked. “You got a stainless-steel fetish?”
“Who, me?” Diego looked up. “Yeah, it’s ah—a green thing. I don’t use plastic straws or disposable cups or chopsticks.” He lifted a slice of tuna and popped it in his mouth.
“We should all be doing that.” Killian frowned at his giant plastic cup full of sugary Coke. “Wait, is that why you’re always digging through our trash?”
“I’m not digging through it. I’m sorting it and taking all the plastic and cardboard to the recycling bins on our floor.”
“We have recycling bins?” Kenny asked.
“They’re on every floor.”
“You just got a lot less weird.” Killian smiled. Like a real, genuine smile.
Diego had to remind himself to breathe. Who knew Killian James had the cutest dimples ever?
After dinner, Diego went home to work on his app while Killian and his friends went to the arena for some late-night practice. He suspected they were just goofing off. It was nice spending time with other people, but by the time Killian returned, Diego was deep in the zone and barely aware of his roommate’s presence.
Coming out of his coding fog, Diego remembered he was thirsty. He was bad about sitting behind his desk for hours forgetting to eat, sleep, or even go to the bathroom.
“Oh, hey, when did you get back?” He blinked at Killian in confusion.
“A few hours ago.” Killian lay back on his bed with a book. “You get so focused on your work I don’t want to bother you, but I think a herd of mustangs could run through this room and you wouldn’t notice.”
“The car?” Diego frowned.
“What? Mustang? It’s a horse, dude.”
“Sorry.” Diego stood, stretching his legs. “Writing code is like falling into another world.” He crossed the narrow space to the tiny refrigerator they shared. It was time for an energy drink i
f he was going to work late.
“What’s all that about anyway? You working on a school project or something?”
“I’m building an app. It’s pretty complicated, and I don’t always have extra time to work on it. When I do get the time, I kinda fall down the rabbit hole.” Diego took a sip of his drink.
“And that’s…fun for you?”
“Yeah, it’s really exciting to see your creations come to life.”
“All those lines of gibberish make my eyes hurt, but I’m sure it’s way more impressive than I realize.”
“Computer code is like any other language. It looks complicated until you understand what it means, and then it’s just like writing or reading a book.”
“Well, don’t let me keep you. I’m about to fall asleep with a regular book over here. That is if my sister will stop texting me and remember it’s an hour later here than it is at home.” He silenced his phone with a smile, setting it on his nightstand.
“Night.” Diego returned to his desk and tried to fall back into his previous rhythm, but his mind was on other things. Other possibilities. He often wondered what might have happened if his mother hadn’t died of an aneurysm. If she’d lived, maybe Diego would have had little brothers and sisters too. His life would be so different he wondered if he’d even be the same person he was now.
Eyeing the clock, he realized it wasn’t quite ten o’clock. When he was at school, Diego was in the same time zone as his grandmother. Without letting himself think about it too much, he reached for his phone and dialed his maternal grandmother. He didn’t call her nearly enough, and he saw her even less, but sometimes, he just needed to hear her voice. She was his only real link to his mother.
“Diego? Is that you calling me at all hours of the night?” Her teasing tone told him he hadn’t interrupted her sleep. She liked to watch late-night Spanish TV shows.
“Hi, Grandma. Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“You can wake me anytime, Diego, but you know your old abuela is just watching her stories.”
“Tell me something about her, Abuela?”
That was their thing. Since he was a kid, anytime he called his grandmother, she would tell him something about his mother he didn’t know. After nearly fourteen years of conversations, he feared the day she ran out of stories.
Dating Him: The Series Page 49
