Chapter 5
SINKING SHIP
Maverick
I’m in full-on panic mode as I bust my ass out of the athletic facility and into the parking lot.
I think I may have threatened to blackmail my professor, which is a total asshole move.
But man, the idea of my entire future going up in flames because I was in the women’s sauna after hours seems like a pretty shit way to go down.
I’ve always checked to make sure it’s empty. Always. And this time it backfired on me spectacularly.
I pull into my driveway and pray like hell no one is in the living room so I can sneak upstairs and hide.
Of course, that’s not what happens. BJ is passed out in the recliner, which is common.
Half the time we leave him where he is. Sometimes he’s still there in the morning; sometimes he’s gone.
He often has balls-early skate practice, like me and Kody when we want to get in extra ice time.
Kody is sitting in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by very organized pieces of paper with what look like math equations written all over them while a hockey game plays on the TV.
“Where’s Lavender?” I ask.
He startles, and a few of the pieces of paper he’s shuffling slide out of the pile and onto the floor beside him. “She’s upstairs.”
Kody would probably surgically attach himself to my sister if he could. The only time they aren’t together is when we’re at hockey practice or she has class. “Why are you down here?”
His cheeks flush. “Uh, because she has an assignment due in the morning and said she needs to concentrate, and I’m too much of a distraction and I’m not to come back up until she messages me.
” He thumbs over at BJ. “We were playing Xbox until he passed out half an hour ago, and I decided to organize my math notes. I figured you’d be at the pub tonight with some of the guys. ”
“Nah, not tonight. I got a warning from Treble that Carly was there, and I didn’t want to risk running into her.”
“You guys haven’t been a thing for a while. What’s the deal there?” He starts putting the math sheets back into his binder, one stack at a time, adding those divider things.
“I don’t know how much of a thing we ever really were, but she’s having trouble letting go.”
“She was here a lot at the beginning of the semester. Didn’t you take her on a date to a movie? Or am I remembering that wrong?” He scratches his forearm, then pulls his shirtsleeve down to cover his wrist.
I sigh. “The whole movie situation was supposed to be a group thing, but it ended up being the two of us. She keeps showing up wherever the team is, so my go-to tactic is avoidance.” And has been since Clover took over the creative writing class.
Being involved with someone feels wrong for whatever reason.
“I’m not dating right now. Gotta stay focused.
” Kody knows about my end-of-summer hookup, mostly because I was late for practice the next day.
But he doesn’t know she’s currently my professor.
“I thought you were low-key seeing someone after the Carly thing ended,” he muses.
I did make an offhand comment about seeing someone who wasn’t into the party scene back when he and Lavender first started dating. It was a bit tongue-in-cheek since I was stuck on the Clover situation and the fact that I was seeing her on a weekly basis. “That ran its course,” I sort of lie.
“Oh, that makes sense.” He nods. “You wanna hang out for a bit? I’m watching replays of our last game against Illinois State.”
I should go upstairs and work on that creative writing assignment, but I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to hang out with Kody since he started dating my sister, and I could use the distraction. Being alone with my thoughts isn’t very alluring. “Yeah, sure. Want me to grab you a beer?”
“Yeah. Great. That’d be awesome.”
I leave my gym bag and backpack at the bottom of the stairs and stop by the kitchen to grab a snack and two bottles of beer. But the second I return, Lavender comes barreling into the living room.
“Vaginaland is open for business!” She makes a V in front of her crotch and then stops mid-thrust when she realizes I’m standing there. “Oh hey, Mav. If you can pretend you didn’t see or hear that, that would be great.” Her face turns red in patches that also cover her neck.
“You’re not worried about BJ?” I thumb over at him.
“He’s asleep.”
“That’s what you think.” BJ cracks a lid. His eyeball shifts from Lavender to Kody—who’s frozen like a statue, eyes comically wide with horror—over to me. He reaches for the lever on the side of the chair and pulls the footrest down. “Way to make things awkward, Lav.”
“I thought Kody was alone—or mostly alone! And what’s awkward is when Maverick’s past flavors of the month stop by looking for him, and I have to be the one to give them the bad news that he’s having a herpes flare up!” She pinwheels her arms like a drunk octopus.
“Wait! What? You don’t seriously tell people I have herpes, do you?” While I can deal with rumors, that sure isn’t one I want to contend with.
Lavender rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I’m not that much of an asshole.
But I did tell a girl at one of your parties that you broke your dick when you tripped over some dirty underwear on the way to the bathroom.
I also told her you probably wouldn’t be back in the saddle until next semester.
I was doing you a favor, because she seemed a little obsessed with you.
Like, she knew all your stats and could list every single girl you dated last year.
She did stop by with a card and some chocolates, which I told her I would give to you, but I threw them out because it seemed a little too, ‘Tag, You’re It,’ circa Melanie Martinez’s Cry Baby album.
You’re welcome for saving you from that potential stalker nightmare. ”
“Did you get her name?”
“No. But I think she hangs out with Bethany.” Lavender’s eyes slide Kody’s way for a second.
None of us are surprised when he purses his lips and grumbles, “Can we treat her like Voldemort and never say her name again?”
“You, of all people, should know you can’t run away from your past,” Lavender says.
“Anyway, like I said, I’m done with my assignment, so you’re allowed back in my room whenever you’re done bromancing.
” She makes a circle motion to the room and spins around, heading back in the direction she came from.
“Now that the entertainment is over, I gotta head home.” BJ pushes out of the chair, pats Kody on the head, and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “See you guys when I run out of food or I get bored, whichever happens first.”
Kody’s phone pings. He glances down at the screen and gives me a sheepish look. “Sorry about that.” He motions to the space where Lavender was standing.
“Eh, it’s Lavender. She inherited the same faulty filter as I did.” I let him off the hook. “Why don’t we take a raincheck on the beers. I need to work on an assignment anyway.”
“Maybe we can go for a late lunch after practice tomorrow or something?” He gathers his things and unfolds his legs.
“That works.”
“Cool. See you in the morning.” He rushes up the stairs, leaving me alone.
I put the beers back in the fridge and head for my room, glad my sister’s is on the third floor, in the attic, and that it’s not directly over mine.
Now that I’m home and not in quite the same panicked state, I realize all over again how bad my situation with Professor Sweet could be. She has every right to report me.
My dad will 100 percent shit a brick if I get expelled.
There will most certainly be lectures. That will suck, but it won’t be nearly as bad as his disappointment—not to mention the highly negative impact it could have on my career if word gets out that I was in the women’s locker room of all places.
I know better than to take risks like that. Even after hours.
For a split second, I entertain what that would look like: an expulsion, or worse, the NHL future I’ve been preparing my whole life for slipping through my fingers.
What would it be like to have a normal life?
To not have a dad who’s a hockey legend.
To not follow in his footsteps. To not have the pressure.
To be like my older brother, Robbie, who’s a brainiac.
Or like my younger brother, River, whose mission in life seems to be stewing in a pit of rage and anger he made for himself and hiding who he really is because he thinks .
. . I don’t know what he thinks, but he seems pretty determined to be miserable.
And more than my brothers, I wonder what it would be like to be Lavender. Traumatized, yes. Forever changed by what happened to her as a kid, definitely. But strong, resilient, and the most forgiving, compassionate person I’ve ever met.
She’d be so disappointed in me right now if she knew what I’d done tonight. That I hadn’t taken into consideration the impact my actions might have on someone else, especially being where I was.
I open the door to my room and want to turn right back around.
It’s a fucking mess. The bed is unmade because I had to rush this morning.
Clothes are strewn all over the floor and draped on my chair.
It smells ripe in here, like my sheets need to be changed and there’s probably a pair of running shoes that need airing out.
My room seems to match my internal mental state: chaos and filth.
I spend a few minutes cleaning up and then jump into the shower. Despite the cluster of today, as soon as I step under the spray, my body responds by giving me an annoying, persistent hard-on. This is my preferred location for such activities, and my bedroom shower elicits a Pavlov-like response.
Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem taking care of my situation. Most days I fantasize about Professor Sweet telling me she needs to see me after class to discuss extra credit. But tonight, that feels wrong. Instead, I turn the temperature to cold. That does the trick.
I cut the water and nab a towel, drying myself off roughly as I cross to my dresser.
I find a pair of clean boxers and some sweatpants, an old T-shirt that used to belong to my dad, and a hoodie.
Then I sit my ass down at my computer and try to come up with two thousand more words.
I’d start over entirely, but I’ve already got more than half of it done.
It’s closing in on two in the morning by the time I’m finished. I’m sure I’m going to get crap marks on the grammar, but at least I made the word count.
As exhausted as I am, I’m on edge, and my brain won’t shut off. I get in bed and stare up at the ceiling, watching the shadows shift and move as cars pass by slowly, thumping bass. A few hollers come from down the street.
My eyes have adjusted to the dark, and I notice my closet door is closed.
I stare at it for a while, debating whether I can handle it being left like that all night.
It’s a weird thing. I always keep it ajar.
Doesn’t matter if my room is neat or a sty like it is today, or if my closet is overflowing with dirty laundry, I always leave it open a crack.
Otherwise it reminds me too much of the past. Of other mistakes I’ve made.
I roll out of bed and amble across to the closet, without tripping on anything this time. Logically, I know the only things in there are my clothes, my laundry basket, and a few old high school photo albums, but I flick on the light and check to make sure. A flash of memory hits me.
Lavender’s split lip.
River screaming bloody murder.
Kody’s accusing glare.
Dad taking me to his office and yelling so loud he was a sonic boom.
Choking on the guilt.
I flick off the light and pull the door closed.
When I finally fall asleep, it’s not peaceful. I dream I’m locked in a room that gets smaller and smaller, and the door to escape doesn’t have a knob, so all I can do is bang on it until my bones break and pierce the skin. And still, no one saves me from myself.