Chapter 4
Theo O'Keefe
I should feel on top of the world after our preseason win. Coach actually complimented my play. A miracle. But my insides shrivel as I watch King with his mom and stepdad. They smile and lean over the railing to hug him.
I’m too far away to hear what they’re saying, but I’m sure it’s positive encouragement. They would never point out that he flubbed the puck in front of the goal or missed when he tried to check the opposing player into the boards.
“Good game.” Brant up-nods me.
“Thanks.” We’re working out how to play on the same line. It occurs to me I should return his compliment. “You too,” I say, pausing for so long that he’s confused.
This team doesn’t get my sense of humor. My sarcasm is a crime, and my compliments are met with wariness.
The only thing I miss about Boston is my best friend, Sarah. She thinks I’m funny and never judges me. I wish she could move here, but that’s selfish. Instead, I pick up my phone to text her and see a voicemail from fucktwat. I changed my stepfather’s name in my phone right before leaving Boston.
It would be too much to ask to never see the man again, but if I don’t listen to his message, it’ll eat at me.
Turning the volume down, I put my phone to my ear and cringe when I hear his voice.
“What do you think of your performance tonight? Why did I pay for private coaching? You know what will happen if you don’t start playing better. Don’t bother offering excuses.”
I’ve heard his threats a million times. He would never leave a message saying he’ll cut me off and throw me out, but it’s there. John King’s concern is all an act.
A rough hand clips my shoulder, and I spin, arm cocked ready to fight. But my brain catches up; I’m in my locker room and no one here will harm me. Yet.
Mav holds up his hands and steps back. His dirty blond hair sticks up in every direction from sweat and his helmet. “Sorry. Seeing if you want to join the celebration tonight.”
Ace watches my reaction, and I force my muscles to relax.
“I’m not feeling it tonight. Next time,” I lie.
“Do you need a treatment or rubdown?” Ace asks.
“I’ll be fine,” I grit out, unable to keep the annoyance from my voice.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, but treatments can speed the recovery of aches and pains. We won’t tolerate refusal of proactive remedies.” Ace’s jaw tightens.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I turn my back on him.
I glance back at my phone for any new notifications. My mother hasn’t returned my call. Typical. She ignores me, and John leaves a message. If only he would ignore me.
He acts as if I want to live in his pretentious Park Avenue apartment.
I refused but my mom pressured me so she could redecorate it and know I’m safe.
Everything with them comes with strings attached.
My mother redecorated it to suit her taste, never consulting me, and John lords it over me as if I can’t afford to live on my own.
I would rather live in the slums than take their fake concern.
I should but fucktwat will keep my mother from contacting me.
After I finish my shower, the team is obnoxiously loud.
“C’mon, King.” Brant whips his wet towel at King’s smooth dark skin. “You show me all your favorite places and I’ll show you mine.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.
I fight the urge to wrap his towel around his neck to shut him up.
“Seriously, bro. Come out with us. O’Keefe already refused, and we need to represent the younger guys,” Mav says.
King’s eyes warily cut to me. “I’ll meet you after I have dinner with my parents.”
“Bring my future in-laws. It’ll be great,” Brant practically begs. He’s so desperate for attention it’s sickening.
“Fine.” King laughs, and his face transforms, as if a weight has been lifted.
He’s trying to avoid me, only accepting after he knew I wouldn’t be there.
I dress quickly to get the fuck outta here.
Most of the guys leave, but when Grayson enters the room, Ace steps in front of me. “If you change your mind, we’ll be at the Roof Top Lounge. Or you can share a cab with us.” He nods at Grayson.
“I changed my mind. I can’t wait to celebrate.” More like I can’t wait to see King’s face when I show up. It’s my goal to force King to admit everything he did to me, which will happen sooner rather than later if I press. I deserve an apology, but I’ll settle for an admission of guilt.
Once we’re in the cab, I have the impulse to apologize for last week when I ruined their engagement announcement.
My mouth got ahead of me, trying to be funny.
But I don’t say anything since they’ve probably forgotten about it already.
I don’t need to beat myself up about it.
Anyway, they wasted several opportunities to tell the team sooner. I’m sure everyone had guessed by then.
“How’s New York so far?” Grayson asks.
“Same as any big city.” I shrug. It would sound offensive to say the city smells like asphalt and exhaust. I’ll never admit I tried to use the subway and got lost. I hired a car service to schedule my rides.
There’s no easy way to get to practice so I’m thinking of asking Sarah to drive my car out here. My unreliable mother would never do it.
As if reading my mind, Ace asks, “Finding your way around alright? The trains can get confusing.” New Yorkers refer to the subway as trains like it makes the underground hellholes sound better.
“I wouldn’t know. Got a driver.” I watch the storefronts as we zoom past.
“We have a Liska junior here.” Grayson nudges Ace in the front seat. I’m unclear if it’s an insult or not.
“The man loves his driver. He’s practically family,” Ace agrees.
I snort. The concept of the help being family would scandalize my mother. They wait for me to explain my reaction, but I don’t.
Our car arrives at our destination, and we take the elevator up a million floors to find the team. Boston doesn’t have nearly as many skyscrapers as New York, and most of them aren’t as tall. Boston’s historic and values the past.
Ace holds the elevator door for Grayson and me to exit. I’m relieved he takes the lead since I don’t know where I’m going. The windows provide an excellent view of the river and the shoreline.
As soon as we find the party room with our team, I catch King’s eye. I swear he pales at seeing me, and I smile with satisfaction. I’m not expecting his mom to wave me over and hug me.
“Theo, it’s nice to finally meet you in person. Jamal has told me so much about you.” She keeps a warm hand on my arm, and I’m struck speechless imagining all the terrible things he’s said.
“Don’t believe the lies he tells you,” I spit out. If she wanted to meet me, she could’ve ended her son’s reign of terror.
She squeezes my arm, and I notice the absence of talons on the ends of her fingers. “Don’t be silly, he says you’re a great player and the team will do much better with you and Rhys Brant.”
My arm twitches out of her grasp.
“That’s nice of him.” I shoot King a glare, not believing this bullshit for a second. Behind him, the servers set up a buffet. The steam rises, giving off a salty buttery smell.
King looks over his shoulder. “During the season we have sit-down dinners, but it’s casual in the preseason,” he explains like I give a fuck about the food, but then my stomach rumbles loudly enough for everyone to hear.
His mom gives me a knowing smile. “You boys go fill your plates before you faint from hunger.”
King beelines for the table, leaving me behind.
“Go on, honey.” His mom nudges my arm in encouragement.
She can’t be for real. All the shit she and her son have done to make my life a living hell can’t be undone with a hug and smile. She has to be after something.
I won’t figure it out staring at her so I join my teammates in line for food. It smells so good my mouth waters.
Brant is flirting with King again, and my brain gets fuzzy. I must be hungrier than I thought.
I steer clear of King and his family once my plate is full of pasta, chicken, a veggie medley, and pizza. There are no open tables so I take my chances with Ace and his boyfriend. Given his position, he can’t set a bad example by turning me away.
This idea sounded better in my head than in reality. Yes, I got a reaction out of King, but now I’m stuck here like a middle schooler trying to find friends.
“Have a seat, man.” Ace pulls out the chair next to him.
“Thanks,” I mumble, calculating the time it’ll take me to eat and fucking leave.
Ace calls Brant and Mav over. Great. The new kid club. I really am back in school.
“This is so much better than the AHL,” Mav gushes. “Eatin’ like kings.” He bobs his head as if there’s music. The scruff under his chin looks like he’s unable to grow full facial hair.
I don’t contradict him, but where the hell is this kid from if he thinks this is eating like kings? It’s a subpar buffet.
My phone pings, but of course it isn’t my mom, it’s Sarah. It’s obvious who gives a shit about me and who doesn’t.
Sarah: Hey how’d it go?
I shove food in with one hand and text back with the other.
Me: Fine same old shit new day
Sarah: Glad to hear you haven’t replaced me
Me: Never
Sarah: I saw your team won. Traitor
Me: You hate hockey
Sarah: So? Gotta run byeeee
It’s not like we’d be hanging out if I was in Boston so I don’t understand my pang of loneliness.
“Mav, you finding your way around and adjusting?” Ace asks.
“Yeah. My parents helped me move into a place over the weekend. It’s cool.” He wipes his mouth on a napkin.
“Let me know if you need anything. That goes for all of you. My door’s always open.” Ace looks us all in the eyes, making sure we understand it’s a real offer and not fake words.
“I wouldn’t say your door is always open.” Grayson nudges him with a sly grin. “But he’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
I’ve never been around guys so open about their sexuality. No one’s muttering insults behind their backs or cracking inappropriate jokes. They must save it all for when they go home. Hockey players are dicks. It’s who we are, and I willingly play the part.
“I’m loving the upgrade to this team.” Brant chews while his gaze swings around the room.
“I’ll bet,” I say out loud instead of in my head. Rather than taking it back, I double down. “The other New York team is a dumpster fire.”
“No shit.” He flushes, showing my comment got to him despite his nonchalance.
“We’re happy to have you,” Grayson says to him. “With Kenney out for at least half the season we need great defenders.”
“What do you know?” I say under my breath, but Ace hears me.
“What did you say?” Ace’s voice is hard as nails.
“What does the team trainer know about our defense?” I reply, unwilling to retract my statement.
Grayson puts a hand on Ace’s arm, but he ignores it.
“If you had done your homework on this team, you’d know Grayson was drafted and slated to play in the NHL, but he suffered a career-ending knee injury.”
“Hmm.” I barely manage not to roll my eyes.
“Careful, O’Keefe. He’s in charge of patching you up. At least he’s a team player.” Brant throws his napkin on the table and walks away.
“I never get hurt,” I brag. Everyone is so fucking sensitive. Even if he played in the NHL, he doesn’t know me or shit about this defense.
“Oh, shit.” Mav lifts the tablecloth. “Knock on wood, dude. You’re asking for a disaster.”
I eat faster so I can leave.
I’m so focused on my food, I don’t notice King behind me until he clears his throat.
“What?” I ask around a mouthful.
“My mom would like to talk to you for a minute.” He scratches his forearm, leaving white marks.
My heart roars in my ears, beating way too fast.
“Hell no.” I stand and rush to the exit.
Of all the fucked-up things. Would she apologize to me? Sorry is so far past due. Or worse, would she make excuses for herself? For her son?
I don’t need this shit in my life.