24. Grayson
Grayson
Iskate over to the side of the practice rink, trying to catch my breath while grabbing my water bottle and squirting it into my mouth. There’s something about drills that feel so much harder than playing an actual game. I think it’s because the adrenaline in a real game overtakes everything else.
Coach Mitchell is tough, which we all knew when he got hired, but we’re all feeling it now. Even with a strong start to the season, he doesn’t want us to get comfortable and slack off. I appreciate his tough style, he’s great, but sometimes he reminds me of my dad when he coached my youth team.
“Wheeler,” Coach calls out, and I set the water bottle down, turning to skate back out to the center ice. “This too tough for you?”
I shake my head. “No, Coach, just needed some water.”
He huffs, but that’s all he’s going to say.
Sometimes I wonder if coaches have higher expectations for me because of who my dad and uncle are.
Two of the best players in Denver Dragon’s history, and then there’s me.
I’m good, I know that, but I don’t think I’m to their level and when I really get in my head, I don’t know if I ever will be.
When practice is over, we all go back to the locker room. I glance at my phone, hoping for a text from Rae, but seeing one from my dad instead.
Dad
Come over soon, your mom misses you.
Grayson
You don’t have to use her as an excuse, I know you’re the one that misses me.
Dad
Fine, we both do.
Grayson
Was that so hard?
Dad
Yes.
I chuckle at the text exchange. I can practically hear my dad’s voice through the phone joking with me.
“You texting your girlfriend?” my teammate, Collins, ribs.
“Why? You jealous?” I taunt, tossing my phone down.
“I think everyone in the world is jealous of your relationship with Rae Sparks.” My other teammate, Hernandez shoves my shoulder.
I just shake my head, they’ve all given me shit about this just like we both got growing up.
I used to deny it, then eventually I stopped and now it feels wrong to.
I don’t know what we’re doing, but things have shifted.
That’s completely obvious, but I can’t help the pang of insecurity knowing things have shifted with her and Asher too.
If she wants him, I may be able to accept it eventually. If she wants just him? I’ll have to see them all the time and I’ll have to move on with my life knowing what it felt like to have her for a moment.
The reality that could be her choice really hit me the other night when I know she saw him after the BBQ.
We’ve talked briefly, but things get chaotic during season; I had a game and daily practice.
Which is also probably why my dad is harassing me about missing me.
I swear him and my mom get more needy during season because Easton and I are both so busy.
They see us enough in the summer, but then it’s never enough once fall and winter come around.
Before I jump in the shower I text Rae, needing her to know that I’m thinking about her.
Once I press send, I toss my phone back into my bag and jump in the shower, trying my best to wash away all the worries and insecurities bubbling up.
It’s easy to seem perfect and like you have all your shit together when you grew up like I did.
But what no one talks about is the pressure that comes with it.
Everything that seems perfect, never is. Even if it seems like it on the surface.
I manage to get roped into going to my parent’s house for dinner. I have a home game tomorrow, then I have a three-day road trip. I thought about inviting Rae over too, but I kind of wanted to talk to my mom and ask if she has any wisdom for me.
At some point I think about talking to my uncle, Brent, since he would understand my situation more than everyone.
And maybe I will. Eventually. But then I think about how uncomfortable that could be, and I change my mind.
Not that I need to talk about the dirty details, I’m mostly just wanting to get my mind in order.
“Welcome home, Son!” My dad greets, opening the door as soon as I step on the front porch.
“I haven’t lived here in like four years.” I walk past him to get inside.
“This will always be your home.”
We walk in and see Easton leaning against the kitchen counter while my mom stirs something on the stove.
“You’re late,” he comments.
“There’s no being late when there wasn’t a set time to arrive.”
“Oh the golden boy has returned,” my brother jokes and I shake my head, walking to the other side of my mom to peek at what she’s cooking.
“Smells good,” I tell her and she smiles up at me.
“Let’s hope it tastes just as good. You know I’m not the best cook.”
“Better than dad.” I shrug. “And Easton.”
“It was one time, I was trying to meal plan,” my twin defends.
“Good thing you make enough money to pay someone to do that for you now, isn’t it?” I taunt.
“You could too.”
“I could, but I’m capable of cooking chicken without it turning to rubber.”
“Back to what I said about being a golden boy.”
Our mom stands up straighter between us, though we are still able to glare at each other over her head. “I’ve missed having you both in my house, but if you don’t leave my kitchen to bicker somewhere else I’m going to have to hurt you.”
“Sorry, Mom,” we say at the same time.
“Love you both,” she calls out as we walk toward the kitchen. Easton shoves me, and I shove him back while we quietly tussle to not set our mom off again.
Our dad is leaning against the open archway leading into the living room watching the hockey game that’s on, the long time Dragon rivals, LA Spartans.
“She kick you out of the kitchen?” he asks without looking at us.
“Yeah,” we both grumble.
“Threaten physical harm?”
I nod and Easton shrugs. We all know it’s in good fun, she wouldn’t actually hurt us. Easton and I on the other hand have gotten in a handful of fights that have actually resulted in some injuries.
“God, I love that woman.” Dad looks back toward the kitchen, and I smile.
They’ve always been two people I look up to as far as a relationship goes.
I like that they don’t act like love is some perfect fairytale.
They argue, but never bad enough that it’s a full blown fight.
And no matter what they always work together on any issues they have.
“Yeah, yeah we know you love Mom more than us and are gross about it, let’s move on.” Easton leaps over the back of the couch, landing on the cushions making sure to take up as much space as possible.
“You’re just jealous since you can’t keep a woman interested in you for more than a few hours at a time,” I tease him.
Dad subtly puts his fist out to bump with mine, and I laugh at the gesture.
“Not all of us have been in love with Rae since we were kids.”
This time, Dad does the same gesture to Easton and then turns back to me. “What? I don’t have a favorite between you two. You both look like me, I have to love you.”
“Nah, Gray looks more like Mom,” Easton comments, scrolling through his phone, probably because he doesn’t care about the hockey game that’s on.
I slap the top of his head. “We’re identical you dick.”
“Ow, asshole. I don’t know why people think you’re the nice one.”
“Because I am.”
“Well, I’m the hot one.”
I shake my head. “No you’re just an idiot.”
“I’m stronger too,” he comments.
I bark out a loud laugh. “No you’re not. I’m more athletic. Everyone knows hockey is harder than football.”
He rears back, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “Are you shitting me? Do you realize how much training I do?”
“Do you realize how much I do?” I counter. “You’re not even on the field half the time. I’m always going on and off the ice.”
“Yeah, off. After like two minutes max.”
“Your whole game pauses just to get into position. Hockey barely stops for a fight.”
Mom comes into the room, interrupting us. “Okay, that’s enough you two.” She turns to Dad. “You going to parent this situation at all?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. I agree with Grayson, and didn’t want to cause any problems.”
“Of course you agree with him, you live and breathe hockey even now.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when you were watching me out there.” He winks.
Easton and I both look at each other with a grimace. I may like that my parents love each other, but it can go too far sometimes when they get a little too lovey.
“Is dinner ready?” Easton asks to distract them from their little love bubble.
“Yes, but no arguing at my table.” She points a wooden spoon at both of us. “I want a nice peaceful meal with my boys.”
“Yes, Mom,” we both relent.
She turns to Dad, lifting an eyebrow, waiting for his respond. “Yes, princess.”
After we’re done eating, I volunteer to do the dishes.
“Kiss ass,” Easton mutters under his breath.
When our mom isn’t looking, I toss a balled up napkin at him, then carry the dishes back into the kitchen. I manage to balance them all and gently set them on the counter, mentally high fiving myself for the useless talent.
Turning the sink on, my mom steps up next to me, leaning her hip against the counter and folding her arms.
“Alright, talk to me,” she encourages.
“What do you mean?” I divert.
“You volunteered to do the dishes without arguing with Easton, that means you want to talk. Lay it on me.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m your mother, I know all. Remember that.” She points her finger at me. “I. Know. All.”
Why do I kind of believe her?
“So, what is it you want to tell me?” she asks.
“Shouldn’t you already know? Don’t you know all?”
“I want to hear it from you. Can’t freak you out too much by revealing everything I know.”
I chuckle, rinsing out one of the bowls before putting it in the dishwasher, then picking up the next one. When I don’t immediately say anything, she pushes for more.
“Is it about a girl?”
“You tell me.” I chuckle.
“Well considering Rae was wearing your jersey, but Asher couldn’t stop looking at her, I would say so.”
I freeze. I know she was joking about knowing everything, but she must be even more perceptive than I give her credit for. Even I didn’t notice how much Asher was looking at Rae during the BBQ. But I guess I may have been too busy looking at her as well.
Mom sighs. “You’re going to make this difficult to get out of you, aren’t you? Does she know how you feel?”
I swallow roughly. “Kind of.”
“Do you know how she feels?”
“Kind of?” I repeat.
She blows out a breath. “I’ve failed as a mother, haven’t I?”
“No, of course not,” I reassure her. “Well, not with me, but Easton is questionable.”
“Hah, you got my humor, that’s for sure.”
I smile, continuing to finish up the dishes, and when I don’t say anything again, she continues.
“I know you’re a big bad adult, and don’t want your mom’s advice, but since it’s involving Rae and she’s like a daughter to me, I feel like I can say something to you as my son. You both need to talk to each other, and make it known how you feel.”
I nod, knowing she’s right.
“And also know that whatever happens I love you both and always will. Don’t let the outside noise affect you because I’ve seen what it can do. Those of you in the relationship come first, remember that.”
I nod. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Any time. You know you can always come to me.”
I smile. “I know.”
She pulls me down to kiss my cheek. “Thanks for doing the dishes. I’ll make your brother do them next time.”
I know she means that, and she leaves me to finish cleaning up, which I don’t mind. I’m thinking about the next time I see Rae that we do need to talk. I don’t know when that’s going to be since my schedule is so busy. But I’m weirdly comforted knowing she has Asher here if she needs anything.
As odd as that seems, and the small fear I have that she only wants him, I know she’s happy and safe and that’s what matters.