Prologue #2
It took them another ten minutes to get all their gear together, but it was worth it to finally get outside.
It had snowed last night, but Dad had cleared a path to the pond when he’d checked it this morning, so they were able to get out there without too much trouble. Ethan only tripped and almost fell once, but Charlie was there to grab the back of his jersey, to tug him back upright.
“Careful, bud,” Charlie said.
He could be awful sometimes, but not always. Once in awhile, he was actually really nice.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible when Avery left.
They finally made it to the edge of the pond.
Last summer their dad had put a little bench in by the side, and Ethan rushed to it, wanting to get ahead of Charlie and Avery, because he remembered how only two people in all their puffy gear could fit on it properly and he didn’t want to wait to put his skates on.
Avery laughed, the sound echoing through the white landscape.
But Ethan’s butt hit the bench first, Charlie collapsing next to him just after.
“Stupid,” Charlie said, nudging him. “You can’t even get on the ice til V gets here. He’s got your skates.”
Avery hadn’t let Ethan carry his own skates, even though he definitely could.
Charlie carried his own, and he immediately bent down to start putting them on.
“I got you,” Avery said quietly to Ethan, leaning over his feet, tugging off his snow boots. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you all set.”
“Don’t baby him,” Charlie whined.
Ethan wanted to agree with Charlie, but it was kind of nice, for Avery to bend over him and help him put his skates on. He couldn’t quite do it himself all the way yet, but it was always better when Avery helped than when Charlie did. Charlie was always so impatient.
“That too tight?” Avery asked gently, tugging at the laces. “Or is it okay?”
“It’s good,” Ethan said.
Ethan switched feet.
“You are a baby,” Charlie declared. He already had his skates on and was tromping to the edge of the ice, taking the first steps onto it.
Ethan had wanted to be first—he was never first in anything—but the big smile that spread across Charlie’s face made it okay.
Charlie was always so happy to get on the ice. Like the rest of him didn’t fit quite right, like his Crosby jersey, sleeve stuck halfway up his arm, but once he was on skates? It was like everything was suddenly right in the world.
He was nicer, too, on the ice. Nicer, and also more annoying, too, because of how good he was.
“He’s gonna show off,” Avery huffed under his breath and Ethan nodded.
“You’re good too, V,” Ethan said. “So good. Just as good as Charlie.”
“Yeah? Maybe. I’m just older.” But he was smiling at Ethan now.
“And better,” Ethan insisted.
“We’ll see,” Avery said. He patted Ethan’s skate and straightened. “You good now, bud?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said and took off for the ice, feeling that same rush of air and freedom as he glided across the surface.
It wasn’t the nice kind of ice that they had at any of the rinks, all smooth and perfect.
It was bumpy and a little uneven, but Ethan liked it even then.
It was so good to be outside, in the fresh air, the clouds of their breath mingling together as Ethan skated around Charlie and managed to get his puck away from him, even for a moment.
“Ahhhh,” Charlie yelled, immediately grabbing it back, but Ethan felt good about it because last year he hadn’t been able to do that.
And now he could.
A minute later, Avery joined them, skating circles around both of them with his easy long strides. Backwards strides, even. Ethan wasn’t nearly as good as Avery at skating backwards. Not yet.
When Ethan complained about that, watching as Avery effortlessly flipped direction and skated right in front of Charlie, who was of course, pushing right towards the net their dad had set up on one end of the pond, Avery just shouted encouragement at him.
Charlie dodged around him, even though Ethan was yelling at him for the puck. Even though Avery wasn’t covering Ethan at all.
But Charlie was going to Charlie, and he shot it anyway, and it went in. Because he was Charlie.
“Won’t have to learn how to do that,” Avery said, ruffling his hair. “You’re gonna end up a forward, like Charlie.”
Ethan hoped so. He loved scoring goals. He wanted to do it all the time.
If only Charlie had let him score that one.
“He could still be a d-man,” Charlie said, as they took a break. “He’s gonna be taller than you.”
Ethan puffed up, proud at the thought that he could be.
“Gonna be taller than you too,” Avery said wryly.
Charlie made a face.
“We should do two-on-one,” Charlie said, picking up his stick and tapping it impatiently on the ice.
“Oh, yeah, you and Eth against me,” Avery teased.
“What,” Charlie squawked. “Are you kidding?”
“Hey, I can play,” Ethan interrupted, not wanting to get mad but it was so hard. Charlie never thought he was any good, and that was so frustrating. He could be good, too!
“’Course you can,” Avery soothed, patting Ethan on the head, smooshing his beanie down further onto his hair. “How about you and I take Charlie on? I bet between the two of us we could totally stop him from scoring.”
Ethan wasn’t sure about that. Charlie was annoyingly good. So good there were always coaches and other men hanging around, wanting to talk to him and Mom and Dad. Plus they didn’t have a goalie.
“I don’t know,” Ethan said skeptically.
“Come on,” Avery said, grinning at him. “We totally can.”
“Okay, we can try,” Ethan agreed.
“Good,” Avery said, patting him on the shoulder. “Take the wing, okay?”
Ethan nodded, excitement beginning to flood through him. Avery thought he could do it. Even against Charlie!
Charlie skated around to the other side of the pond, edges sharp and cutting into the ice as he gained speed.
“Watch his other side,” Avery called out to Ethan as he positioned himself and his stick between the goal and where Charlie was coming in fast.
Avery was skating backwards, trying to shove his stick in, using all the tricks he’d been spending the spring and summer teaching Ethan to slow down forwards and pick the puck out of their possession.
Ethan wasn’t nearly as good as Avery at those yet, but Avery was so good at it.
Charlie yelled at him once and then twice, getting frustrated, because he’d had to slow down as he crossed the midpoint of the ice.
“Stay,” Avery tossed over his shoulder. “He’s gonna come your way in a second.”
Ethan tensed.
“No, I’m not,” Charlie yelled. But Ethan knew his brother well enough to know when he was full of it, and sure enough, Charlie did one of those little spins he was so good at, changing direction, trying to move over from Avery’s coverage to come at the goal from Ethan’s angle.
“You got this,” Avery told him, chasing Charlie from behind.
Ethan skated up and met Charlie only a few feet from the goal, watching his eyes the way Avery and his parents and his coaches had taught him.
They’ll always give themselves away, Mom had told him, once.
Even Charlie? Ethan had wondered, but Mom had just laughed. Even Charlie, she’d agreed.
Sure enough, Ethan saw Charlie’s eyes dart to the side, like he thought he could skate through the gap between Ethan and Avery. Shoot the puck in that way.
But instead of letting him, Ethan slid to the right, closing that lane and Charlie said a bad word under his breath.
Ethan only had a moment to mentally celebrate before Charlie dodged the other way, changing direction with the speed that Ethan was totally jealous of. A second later, he was winding up and the puck hit the back of the net.
This was Charlie so he made a big deal of the celly, throwing his arms in the air and waving his stick around like some kind of idiot.
Ethan rolled his eyes as Avery skated up to him. He tugged Ethan into his side, arm warm around him as he said, “Good job, Eth.”
“What? He scored,” Ethan said scornfully.
“Yeah, but you made him work for it,” Avery said. “And that initial read? It was really good, Eth. You had him.”
“But he’s Charlie, so he found another way to score,” Ethan said, a little despondently.
“Yeah, he’s Charlie,” Avery agreed. They shared a look as Charlie continued to skate loops around the ice, cackling obnoxiously like he’d just won the freaking Stanley Cup.
“Come on,” Avery said, patting him. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Part of Ethan knew that Avery was taking it easy on him as he let Ethan basically skate in, unbothered, towards the net, but when he got close, Avery did start to press, flicking his stick and angling his body so Ethan wouldn’t have an easy shot at the net.
Ethan wasn’t Charlie. Not yet anyway. But he had watched his brother enough to make a decent attempt at Charlie’s spin move and he did it, wobbling only a little, and before Avery could be surprised or change his angle, Ethan shot the puck.
He’d been practicing a lot. When Avery and Charlie were busy doing things he wasn’t ready for, he’d been working on his shot. Over and over again in their garage, where their dad had set up a net and let him shoot as many pucks as Ethan wanted at it.
It was a good shot. Ethan felt awesome about it as it left his stick.
Even better as it hit the back of the net.
“Woooooo!” he yelled.
A second later, he felt Avery’s body slam into his and then the overeager puppy of Charlie join them, and it only took a second for them all to wobble before they fell to the ice, laughing.
“He almost did that better than you,” Avery joked, elbowing Charlie in the side. “He’s gonna be the best of all of us.”
“No way,” Charlie scoffed.
But Avery’s words made Ethan feel warm inside. So warm that even the frigid air didn’t feel quite so cold.
They changed it up, different plays, different formations. It felt like Charlie and Avery could skate forever, but at some point, Ethan got tired. Needed a break. Watched from the bench as Charlie and Avery laughed and played keep-away all up and down the ice.
“I don’t blame you. They’d wear me out, too.”
Ethan looked up at the voice and felt the warmth in him grow even more.