Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
KELLAN
Wells has become my lucky charm, whether he wants to accept it or not. I scored a goal in each game this weekend. We won both. I’m already on track to break my scoring record from last year, even with a slow start to the season and a bumpy away week.
I smile stupidly, thinking about Wells, as I hop off the metro and onto a bus that will take me to my mom’s apartment. There’s no direct train line to South Warwick, so I change in Warwick to then take the twenty-minute bus ride home.
It’s Joey’s birthday on Tuesday, but we’re celebrating today since I won’t be able to get away between classes and practice to see him on his actual birthday.
He’s turning seven, but right now, he and Sammy are the same age.
Which feels crazy, considering he’s already a head taller than his little brother.
I pay my fare and then politely try to fit within a single seat, which isn’t an easy feat for me. It will probably be the same for Joey one day, who already feels like a mini-me even though we’re only half-brothers.
Where I grew up and where Joey and Sammy are growing up is worlds away from the opulent homes I’m passing by on my way out of the fancy part of town.
Still, I want to show them that they can do it. That they can achieve whatever they want in this life.
I went to school with kids from Warwick, and even though their houses have six-plus bedrooms, no one had more than a sibling or two, and most were only children.
I guess I should be grateful that I didn’t realize how poor I was until high school, since South Warwick has its own middle school.
And hockey is not a cheap sport to play, so when the intensity really picked up by ninth grade, I was surrounded by some of the wealthiest in an already wealthy area.
But, if you want to play hockey seriously, this is the school district to do it in.
Still, it was a complete culture shock to realize just how differently the other half lives. Kids from Warwick drove their luxury cars to school–some even had drivers pick them up. They threw parties in McMansions where just one bedroom could fit my family’s entire apartment.
I tried to focus on hockey as much as possible.
It became a place to channel my anger and frustration.
And I was mad. A lot. Once Joey was on the way, Rick seemed to feel like I was the only thing standing between him and his idea of a happy family.
And he let me know it. By the time I was a freshman and Joey had been born, all I could think about was getting a free ride to college so that I could be out of the house, away from Rick.
I’ve always loved hockey, but I think that in some ways, what I most loved is where it could take me. Or more importantly, who it could take me away from.
When I look up again, shaking the haze of my past away, the streets are familiar.
As in, I literally recognize them, but I also don’t feel like a fish out of water the way that I do in Warwick.
Or, even though I never talk about it, how I sometimes feel at Radford.
Like one day, everyone’s just going to look up and wonder what the hell an imposter like me is doing there.
I push the thought away and pull the cord to get off at the next stop.
The apartment building is only a few blocks away, and I start my walk in the early November air, loving the bite. Leaves swirl around the cracked pavement. Neighbors are tucked away in the cold weather. The streets are empty, even though it’s a sunny fall day.
I think of Wells again. I’ve been doing that a lot lately.
We didn’t hook up on Thursday, but we did come to an… understanding.
Which is basically that he can use me as he sees fit, and I’ll be more than happy to play my part. But that also, under no uncertain terms, can he continue acting like an asshole just for the hell of it. He agreed to that last point with less confidence than I’d have liked, but we’ll see.
Even just the knowledge that more is going to happen between us has me back to my old, new self.
Suddenly, everything that I have to juggle seems a lot more manageable, which makes no sense. Practice. Games. Work. Classes. My family.
It’s been so long since something new and exciting has come into my life. Something totally unexpected–in a good way. And Rick is gone–hopefully for good–which means that I’ve also been seeing my mom and brothers more.
I take the steps on the exterior staircase two at a time before reaching the landing. The apartment is on the second floor, and instead of knocking, I open the door that’s seen better days–everything in this apartment has–and let myself in.
Joey and Sammy barnacle themselves to my legs before I’ve taken a full step inside. “Kellan!” they both yell in unison, and it makes my heart swell up in my chest.
I lift the bags I’m carrying so that they don’t get hit in the head with them.
A new Radford Renegades jersey for both of them, along with a science experiment kit for Sammy and a new football for Joey.
I also threw some candy in the bags, though I’m sure I’m going to regret that decision in a few hours.
“It’s my birthday party today!” Joey screams, the sound reverberating off the walls that feel closer together every time I visit.
“It sure is, my dude. What are you this year… twelve… thirteen?” I tease.
He shakes his head with the seriousness that only a kid can manage. “You know I’m gonna be seven, Kel.”
Sammy stays attached to my leg as I take an exaggerated step inside. “I’m still six,” he says thoughtfully.
After I drop the bags, I ruffle his hair and reach down to lift him up to my chest. “Six! Only one six-year-old left in this house. What are we going to do?”
He laughs and squirms away when I start tickling him.
My mom pokes her head out of the kitchen off the living room. “Hi, baby.”
I walk across the room to give her a hug, and she leans into my strong embrace.
My mom isn’t even forty yet, and when she finally lets me go, I notice the new lines at the edges of her eyes.
The little frown marks around her lips. She’s worked at least two jobs as long as I’ve been alive–waitress, admin assistant, crossing guard, apartment manager, cleaner–and I have no idea how she functions on the small amount of sleep she gets.
Joey, who’s the physical embodiment of energy, runs a circle around us before sprinting the ten feet between where I stand and the living room sofa.
He hurls himself against the worn cushions, bounces off, and then starts spinning in circles, using the lapels of his jacket like a cape.
This kid needs to be in a sport, pronto.
My hands are pressed into my mom’s thick cable knit sweater, and it’s only then I realize their outfits. “Are we going somewhere?”
Sammy chimes in from the living room. “We’re having an igloo party.”
“What’s an igloo party?” I ask, my voice light. But I keep my eyes trained on my mom.
Sammy, helpful as always, gives what’s clearly the child-approved version of the story. “We keep it cold in the house so that we can pretend we’re in the North Pole and having an adventure.”
I smile at him and swallow the lump in my throat. “That sounds really cool, bud.”
He’s now pointing at random objects situated around the room. “That’s a seal,” he says about a white towel. He gestures at the coffee table. “And that’s an iceberg. Gotta keep clear of that.”
I lower my voice so the boys can’t hear. Massachusetts is not the place to pretend to rough it in the cold. “Is there an issue with the heating bill?”
My mom waves me away, but the lines around her mouth grow more pronounced. “My hours got cut at the diner because business is a little slow. Nothing for you to worry about. I’ve been applying for new jobs, and I’m sure I’ll hear back from somewhere soon.”
I guess it’s lucky for me that I run hot, and learning this is already bringing my internal temperature to a boil. I’m not mad, I tell myself. My mom really is doing the best she can. But I need her to tell me when stuff like this is happening so that I can help. I want to help.
I poke my head out into the living room and eye Joey. “My man, what birthday theme would you want, if you could pick anything?”
He sticks his fists down to his side and puffs out his chest. “Superhero party!”
Music to my ears. Joey was Superman and Sammy was Ironman for Halloween, so their costumes should be around here somewhere. I love an easily solved problem, especially because there’s always a new one waiting right around the corner.
I point down the hallway to their bedroom. “Then go find your costumes and get ready. Find something for me to wear, too.”
They run off screaming, Joey in the lead with Sammy in tow. Once they’re gone, I turn back to my mom. “I’ll pick up some extra shifts on-campus. You can’t go without heat.”
Tears well up in her eyes as soon as the boys are out of sight, and I feel her pain like a stab to my own heart. “I don’t want you to worry about this, honey. You should be focusing on school and hockey. This isn’t your mess to solve.”
I’m already shaking my head. “Mom, no. Just… no. I love you, and I love Joey and Sammy. This isn’t a burden.
This is what family does. And plus,” I lie, “all I do at my campus job is sit around, so I always have plenty of time to study. Really, you should be happy that it’s keeping me out of trouble. ”
I give her a cheeky smile, but really, I’m thinking about how to make things work. I can pick up an extra night at the bar–it’ll have to be Monday–and if that’s not enough, I’ll figure something out. There’s no way I won’t figure this out.
She gives me a weak smile and wipes at her eyes, but I know she’s weighing the options.
In another few seconds, she’ll realize that there aren’t actually options.
Only tough choices. Joey and Sammy are young.
They need safety and consistency and a warm home for Christ's sake. I know she can see that. Me being a little more stressed out won’t trump them going cold. I won’t let it.
She places her hand on my chest. “How did I get so lucky with you?”
I shrug. “I guess I was raised right.”
“You promise that you’ll tell me if everything gets to be too much?”
“It will all work out,” I say, in lieu of refusing to outright lie to her before I walk over to the thermostat and turn up the heat.
Joey and Sammy come barrelling back down the hallway, then, their superhero costumes askew like they put them on in the biggest rush of their lives.
Because they wanted to get back to spending time together.
I know they don’t understand heating bills or that Rick isn’t on a long work trip or that we’re so poor we make a million unfair choices every single day just to get through.
I want them insulated from this reality for as long as possible, and hopefully soon, they won’t even have to remember what this life was like at all.
And even when they think about the past, I pray that they’ll remember playing pretend in an Igloo inside.
Spending the day with two people who would do anything for them.
And through it all, as I look at them in their costumes–the seal towel has now become a baby they need to save–I hope they remember that they are so, so loved.