Chapter 10 #2
I was on my way to the arena to get on the bus for Salem, then New York, when my phone rang with Caleb on the other end of the line.
We hadn’t talked in a while, and I knew that was on purpose.
He didn’t want to know what was going on with my dad, and if he knew, he’d probably feel guilty enough to help.
And then he’d resent me for it, and I didn’t think I could handle that.
“What’s up?”
“You’re heading to Salem today, right? What time is your game?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Puck drops at six, why?”
“Will you see Micah before?”
I rarely did. Sometimes, if we got into town on time, we’d grab our pregame protein shakes, but those moments were pretty rare. “He’s not really talking to me right now. I’m surprised you are.”
Caleb sighed. “Look, I know there’s shit going on with Dad.”
“Mhm.”
“And he took it harder than me,” Caleb went on.
I fought the urge to laugh. “Sure. Okay.”
“Just, hear me out, eh?” I was silent, and after a second, he went on. “Something’s going on with Micah. I’m worried. He’s been such an asshole lately—”
“He’s always an asshole. Literally, that is his whole thing,” I reminded him. The car was rolling to a stop, and I felt on the seat for my cane.
“This is different. Just…if you run into him, can you talk to him? Try and figure out what the hell is going on?”
I groaned. “I have so much on my plate right now. You don’t want to hear about Dad, and that’s fine. But I don’t think you know what I’m dealing with.”
“God, you can be so selfish sometimes,” Caleb snapped. “Who fucking cares about Dad!”
I said nothing. What could I say? That should have been my attitude, but then Niko’s words rang in my head. My dad was a person, and he was dying. He deserved some kind of dignity, even if Caleb and Micah were too stubborn to accept that.
“Micah is a grown-ass man. If he needs help, he knows where to find me. Now, I have to go. I’m at the arena.”
He hung up before I could, which irritated the fuck out of me, but I put my phone in my pocket, then stepped out onto the curb and waited for someone to fetch me.
“Matty,” came a voice before he touched my wrist. His voice was so damn soft, which was wild because from what I knew, he used to be one of those Alaskan oil rig dudes before he was drafted by Seattle.
I was pretty sure you couldn’t be a soft-spoken marshmallow on one of those rigs.
“Hey, bud. How’s it going?”
“Nervous.” He was always nervous. I heard him tap his cane tip on the sidewalk, an anxious tic he’d developed whenever we hit the road. “Salem’s going to be a breeze though, right?”
I snorted. “Yeah. Well, Micah’s a fucking beast in the net, but they haven’t made playoffs in about three years. From their stats so far, they’re not making it this year either.”
“New York though…”
“Just breathe,” I told him as he began to walk us toward the bus. I could hear the engines hissing and groaning just above the chatter of the guys. “It’s early in the season. No one’s going to be aggressive right now.”
“No. I get it. Sorry.”
I wanted to be a better friend. To comfort him more. To try and understand his anxiety, even though it had never been my own lived experience. But I was distracted and stressed. Nikos and Killian were managing my dad, but I hated being away.
Right now, they were on a mission to find any and all medical documentation so when I got back, I had some idea of who to speak to and where to go to handle my dad’s case because the man had to have been in treatment at some point.
But I didn’t know my way around my dad’s place, and even if I did, I still wouldn’t have been able to read any of the shit my mom left behind.
“Fuck. I should check her house,” I muttered to myself.
Matty froze. “Huh?”
“Ignore me. Thinking out loud.”
I shoved my thoughts aside. I needed to get my head in the game. This was no time to fuck off and worry about other shit. Everything would be waiting on my doorstep for me when I got home.
“Fucking finally,” came Tucker’s voice as we approached. “I was in a half panic and calling up Metzger to gear up.”
“Oh, fuck you,” I snarled. We didn’t have a farm team goalie, so right now, the PPHL was pulling from their community leagues, and fucking Metzger was the dickhead they called whenever our backup goalie was out.
I hated that douche.
Every goddamn roadie we went on, the fucker ended up getting kicked out of the post-game bar for groping a server and pretending like it was an accident because he couldn’t see. The shithead had one fully functional eye and played in the net blindfolded.
“Well, you’re here, so I can stop panicking,” Tucker said.
“Why wouldn’t Jonah be here?” Matty asked.
I swore under my breath, but Tucker didn’t miss a beat. “Hemorrhoids. And he ate Indian hot curry last night, so—”
“I’m literally going to fucking kill you. No, actually, I’m going to go eat some fucking curry, and then I’m going to crop dust your hotel room and give you pink eye,” I told him. And I would too.
Tucker was laughing so hard I was pretty sure he was crying as I swept past him and got onto the bus.
I made my way to my usual seat, ten down on the left, and settled into the aisle row since I didn’t need the window, and I liked to be the asshole who took my shoes off and dug my toes into the cushioned side of the wall.
I listened as everyone else got on the bus, and just as things were starting to quiet down, my phone began to ring.
“Best Friend Vanya,” it chirped at me.
I answered quickly. “Tell me there’s not an emergency.”
“No emergency. I go with your friend Killian today to take Dad for haircut. He was badly needing. He looks good. You know you look nothing like him?”
“I mean, no. I didn’t,” I said. No one had ever told me whether or not I looked like my parents, and frankly, by the time I was old enough to give a shit, I didn’t.
Vanya was quiet for a second, and then I heard the sound of a palm slapping skin. “Right. I’m forget. You never see him, right? Not even when a baby?”
“Nope. I was born this way.”
“Ooh, yes. Jonah! We do karaoke together!”
“What? Dude, no. I can’t sing. Trust me, like, not even a little bit. It probably would have been nice if I was one of those blind prodigy kids who could play better than Mozart at three years old, but I am trash at that kind of thing.”
“Get drunk—really good Russian vodka. No one cares.”
“They will. Believe me.” I grimaced. I’d done karaoke once. They shut my mic off halfway through my rendition of “Friday I’m In Love.”
Vanya scoffed. “Fine, fine. You come listen to me. I make angels weep.”
I very much doubted that. “Sure. Sounds fun, bud.”
“Good. Bring friends. Your friend, Matty? He seem like he needs buddy to hang out with.”
I tried to hide my smile. I had no idea if Matty liked karaoke or hanging out with giant Russian goalies with boundary issues, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “I’ll check in. Anyway, I have to go. We just got on the bus.”
“Have good game, yes? Crush them. Don’t break any legs!”
“I’ll do my best, bud. Give Alexio a big, ugly, wet kiss for me.”
“Yes, will do now. He’s right here.”
“What the,” I heard Alexio shout, and then I heard smacking kissing sounds, and my heart twisted in my chest. “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Is Jonah. Says to give you kiss.”
I heard fumbling noises after that, then Alexio’s deep, gorgeous rumble into the phone. “This doesn’t count, Adams.”
Then the line went dead. I felt a little tight in my pants and twisted to make sure any of the guys who could see wouldn’t notice, then rested my head against the back of my seat.
“So. Vanya?”
I almost burst into laughter at Matty’s hesitant voice.
“Sorry, I overheard your phone. Then I thought I heard my name?”
“Yeah. He wants you to go karaoke with him.”
Matty made a quiet meeping sound. “To sing? In public?”
“I’m sure everyone else will sing too,” I said, waving my hand dismissively.
Matty let out a breath. “Oh. Right. Yeah. I—that could be fun?”
“You won’t catch me on the mic, but I’d hang out if you wanted to.”
Matty cleared his throat, and when he spoke, it sounded like he was smiling. “Cool. Um…when?”
“I don’t know. That dude is pure chaos. My guess is he’s going to show up at your door one night with a bottle of Beluga Noble and talk you into doing something you’ll regret.”
Matty snorted softly. “There’s not a lot I regret these days. Well…nothing I can change, anyway.”
That was a hard relate, but I had no idea what to say to that, so I reached across the aisle and gave him a pat. “Get some rest, rook. We’ll be in Salem soon.”
He squeezed my hand back, his silent gesture letting me know it was okay to shut down, and I was grateful for it because holy fuck, I needed it.