Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
T ravel days sucked ass. Not only did I have to deal with being crammed on a bus better suited for toddlers than hockey players, but the lack of privacy didn’t allow me to watch Maci. I had rushed back to my locker after our game, desperate to check her location. I was pissed when she was at The Pub. However, when she admitted to me that hanging out with Kennedy made her feel like the old her? A part of me broke a little. I was equal parts happy and jealous at the same time. Happy, because I desperately wanted Maci to get back to a version of her old self, and jealous, because I wanted to be the person who made her feel that way.
Kennedy was good for her, ?and sobriety would be a process. Based on what I had seen this week between watching her at home and checking her phone, she had remained sober. Although she was acting off since earlier in the week, which told me something must have happened. Finding out about her art midterm was as easy as pie. It sucked that she failed her art midterm. Especially knowing she had an amazing self-portrait hiding under her bed. We needed to work on her confidence. She was too scared to let people see her talent.
I was over the moon when she called me. Initially, I thought she was going to defend herself, and it bothered me to hear the fear in her voice again. I hadn’t looked into who was the culprit of ‘paint-gate’ as I had coined it, and I needed to know more than ever. It didn’t sit right with me that someone shoved into her late at night while she was alone. It was too much of a coincidence. The issue was that I had nowhere to start. People talked about Maci a lot, but few acted on it. People harassed her here and there, but it didn’t sound like it was anyone consistent.
It could be Tiffany. Maci had the upper hand on her in their fight, embarrassing Tiffany. I heard her running her mouth at Hockey House a few times this week. She didn’t have the brains to facilitate the paint package, though, not to mention she had followed the team tonight to the game. Tiffany and a few other “loyal” fans tagged along with the parents and girlfriends who traveled for away games. It was pathetic, but she desperately thought that she and Jackson were on the cusp of becoming a couple. I don’t know how she didn’t see that he was using her to work off his frustrations.
Like Crew suggested, I noticed our golden boy’s growing aggression on and off the ice. As his conflict with Maci grew, so did his aggression. Jackson received multiple reprimands this week in practice for excessive checking and he got in a verbal altercation with Cooper. It wasn’t like him, and he was quick to blame it on Maci. We still weren’t talking, which I needed to rectify soon. Coach Grimes had hauled me into his office before the game to tell me as much. He didn’t need to remind me, but he did anyway, that the draft was on the line.
I looked to where Jackson sat, his head buried in his cell phone. He had his Airpods in and the seat next to him was vacant. It was time to rip off the band-aid. Everyone could tell that we missed each other. We’ve been inseparable since we roomed together our first year. Axel tried to get us to talk earlier this week, but Jackson had practically ripped his head off over the suggestion. This was my best shot at burying the hatchet. He couldn’t run away on the bus. Plus, every other seat was filled. Quickly, I moved to sit next to him and waved my hand in front of his face. He scowled at me, but reluctantly took his headphones out.
“What?” He grumbled.
“We need to work our shit out,” I deadpanned.
“You got my sister arrested,” Jackson protested, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“Have you talked to her at all?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from the main contention point of our fight. I already knew his answer before Jackson shook his head.
“I’m mad at her too. I can’t keep covering for her and she needs to figure things out on her own. Tiffany agrees with me. I can’t be responsible for her. I need to keep my eyes on the draft.”
I smacked him upside the head. Granted, this could go one of two ways, but I could not sit and listen to Jackson say he was taking Tiffany’s advice about his sister. She was the idiot who started the fight in the first place. One freshman player fessed up and told me about the entire altercation after it happened. Tiffany deserves to be banned from Hockey House, not Maci.
“What the hell, Hunter!” Jackson yelled, launching his hands behind his head in self-defense.
“You’re an idiot if you choose Tiffany over your sister.” I seethed.
Jackson huffed at me but didn’t disagree. “We’re supposed to be burying the hatchet, not fighting.”
I agreed with him, “Don’t say stupid things then. ”
Jackson shook his head at me, messing with the backward BU snapback on his head. “What is it with you and my sister, anyway? You used to always be annoyed with her and now you’re trying to be her goddamn Superman or something.”
Jackson wasn’t wrong. I used to make it seem like she annoyed me. Maci was always the girl I lusted for from afar. She had cool confidence and an easygoing demeanor that people flocked to. For Jackson’s sake, I never crossed the line with her. Now that we were all seniors, my chance to be with her was dwindling. It took her almost dying for me to realize that.
“Someone has to look out for her—” I cut off the retort Jackson was about to say, “— actually look out for her, not just threaten her into submission.”
Jackson closed his eyes, and his internal struggle with the situation played across his face. He had to realize that I was right. The way he went after Maci before their fight wasn’t beneficial. She didn’t need Jackson to be her dad; she needed him to be her brother.
Eventually, Jackson agreed with me, “Okay fine, then what do you suggest we do in the meantime?”
Relief washed through me. Jackson was back on my side. Quickly, I filled him in on my bargain with Maci, and included him in on all the harassment she’s been dealing with. By the time I finished catching him up on everything. He was angry at himself. He didn’t outright say it, but his ears tinged pink and his lips mashed together in a thin line.
“I’m a shitty brother and an even shittier friend,” He conceded.
“You’re not a shitty brother or friend, you have your head up your ass, for sure, but you’re entitled to a rough patch just like your sister.”
He was quiet for a moment. Jackson, like most guys, wasn't big on sharing his feelings. He had a big personality when he wanted to and easily exuded his golden boy persona at the drop of a hat. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t hurt just as much as his sister. He was just better at hiding it.
“I guess I should show you this then,” Jackson leaned forward and pulled his backpack out from underneath his seat. He rummaged around for a few moments before pulling out a few envelopes.
“Coach pulled me into his office before we left and handed me these. I guess he found them stuck in the back of one of the desk drawers. He thought I would want them.” Jackson handed one in particular to me.
Turning it around in my hands, I noticed a very specific logo in the upper left-hand corner. I opened it and scanned through the letter. The contents made my eyebrows hike up my forehead. Jackson waited patiently for me to finish
“Did you know about this?” I croaked in disbelief.
He shook his head. “No idea. The date is from a few weeks before my dad died.”
Team USA wanted to scout Maci for a position on the women’s hockey team. This was monumental, an opportunity that comes along once in a lifetime. I knew figure skaters who worked their entire lives for a chance to skate at the Olympics and missed it by one point. Hell, there were NHL players who didn’t get picked for the men’s Olympic team. The letter was a parental notification of the team’s contact with Maci. Even though she wasn’t a minor, she was still in school. They probably hoped her dad would convince her to take the opportunity.
“Why didn’t she go for it?” I pondered.
Jackson shrugged. “Maci always talked about the inequality of women’s sports. If I had to guess? She didn’t want to mess up her degree plan…” Jackson didn’t state the other obvious factor—him.
“Are you upset? ”
“I mean, I’m a little butt hurt that I don’t have a chance at playing for my country, but at Maci? No, she was being selfless. I know how she gets about doing big things for herself. This letter came around the same time I was approached about the NHL draft.”
“Well, we have to do something now. This is exactly what she needs—something to work for again.”
My wheels turned in my mind about how to get her in front of those coaches. There wasn’t a chance of rejoining the BU team. She had burned that bridge pretty badly. At the height of Maci’s meltdown, she skipped the game that would have qualified them for the championships. Her coach and team were pissed. As a starting line center, she wasn’t easy to replace. They pulled up a freshman at the last minute who didn’t know the line or the position well. It was a disaster. At least she was skating with me already. I just needed to up the ante.
“Good luck with that. She pissed off a bunch of people last spring.”
I rolled my eyes. Typical Jackson to not be helpful. “I have an idea. I just need to get her ready first. When the time comes, are you all in on helping me?” I raised my eyebrow and looked Jackson in the eyes—the same eyes as Maci.
Jackson bumped my fist. “Of course, you know that. You’re the guy I call when I need to drag the dead body across the floor.”
I laughed. If only he knew how true that statement could be one day, “Me too man. I appreciate it.”
We sat next to each other for the rest of the trip home while we bullshitted and goofed around. At one point, I caught Coach’s eye, and he nodded in approval. Jackson and I were good again, which would benefit the team in the long run.
I didn’t get to watch Maci at all on the ride home, but I took comfort in knowing that her location didn’t change the entire ride. First thing tomorrow, I was confronting my girl about Team USA. She thought I was tough on her before, but that would look like a cakewalk compared to the plan from here on out.
She better be ready, because it was happening whether she liked it or not.