37. McKinley
“Daddy, look. I drew you another picture. This one’s funny. I made you into a unicorn, and gave you rainbow wings. Unicorns have magic, and maybe if you had some magic, you’d wake up.”
God, this is the worst kind of torture. Day in and day out, watching Alexander’s daughter talk to him while he lies there, lifeless.
Giuliana pats him gingerly on his head, careful as to not upset the bandage wrapped around it. “I wonder if he’s dreaming. What do you think, Uncle Mac?”
I clear my throat and try to speak around the lump lodged in it. “I think people can dream when they’re in a coma. I think they can hear us talking to them too.”
“Maybe he’ll have a dream about a magical unicorn now.” She giggles, her thick brown curls bouncing around her cheeks. “That’d be funny.”
It’s been six days. The longer he stays in a coma, the worse his prognosis gets. I’ve done what the nurses told me not to do, and Googled every possible outcome. Memory loss; brain damage; death. This is like a sick nightmare that I’m stuck in, and I need someone to shake me awake.
“Can we get hot chocolate?” Giuliana looks at me with those big, round, puppy dog eyes, the same exact ones her father has, and she knows I can’t say no—to her or hot chocolate.
“Of course. We’ll have to leave the hospital to get the good stuff though. You okay with that?”
“Sure.” She places her tiny hand on her father’s chest. “Daddy, we’re going to get some hot chocolate. Do you want some too? We’ll be right back, so don’t worry. We won’t be gone too long.”
Tears sting the backs of my eyes as I lift her into my arms, and carry her out of the room. Aarya is asleep on the cot in the corner, so I shoot her a text to let her know where we are in case she wakes up.
“Can we invite Presley and Chance?” Giuliana asks. “I want to play with Alyssa and Avery.”
“Uh, I’m not sure, kid.” I contemplate the right words to say. Sure, she’s only four, so I could easily lie. But she’s intelligent and intuitive, so it feels wrong to lie to her.
“Are they busy?”
The elevator door dings and we step inside. “Well, the truth is, I’m not speaking to Chance right now. But I can ask Presley if you can have a play date with the kids one day soon.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “Why aren’t you talking to Chance? Did you get into a fight?”
I blow out a sigh as I carry her into the lobby of the hospital. Fuck it. I’m going for honesty. “You know how your dad got hurt during a hockey game?”
She nods.
“Chance was one of the players on the other team who hurt him.”
She stares at me, and I can see the wheels in her head spinning. “He hurt him on purpose?”
I don’t know how to answer this question. It feels wrong to say yes, and it feels wrong to say no. I’ve been going over it in my head like I’m riding a merry-go-round made of knives, trying to understand why Chance had any part in this.
“It’s hard to say what really happened. I don’t...I don’t know if Chance tried to hurt Daddy on purpose, but he wasn’t playing safely, and in the end, Daddy got hurt.”
“Daddy always says hockey is a dangerous sport.” Her eyes widen. “Did you know they’re allowed to punch each other, and nobody stops them?”
I chuckle. “Yes. It’s crazy, right?”
She nods. “I think it was an accident. Nobody would want to hurt Daddy on purpose. He’s so kind, and he’s a great hockey player. Plus, Chance loves you. So, he wouldn’t want to hurt your friend.”
I hug her tightly to my body before setting her down on the sidewalk outside. “You’re probably right.”
My heart says she is, but my mind can’t get over the fact that Chance and Ivanov are known for being overly aggressive. We know accidents happen on the ice all the time, and we’ve each had our own share of scares. In this season alone, I’ve watched both Trenton and Jason end up getting hauled off the ice.
But nothing of this magnitude.
I wish it were me. I wish I could switch places with Alexander. I feel guilty that I wasn’t able to protect him, to stop Ivanov from getting to him. I was too wrapped up in Chance, too focused on the wrong things. My head wasn’t completely in the game, and I fucked up.
“My teacher said that sometimes people do things that they don’t mean to do.” She looks up at me as we walk hand-in- hand down the block, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. “There’s this boy in my class, Marcus, and he hits the other kids.”
I arch a brow. “Has he ever hit you?”
“No, but he hit my friends. Miss Kelly asked him why he hit them, and he said he didn’t know. Then she had to explain it to us, and she said that sometimes people do things without thinking.” Her eyes narrow. “Isn’t your brain always thinking?”
“It is, but some people are impulsive. That means their brain reacts before their mind can catch up to it. That’s probably why Marcus hits, because he gets angry and his brain makes his body react before his brain can think rationally.”
She’s quiet as she thinks on it for a moment. “So, maybe Chance’s brain didn’t tell him to stop before he hurt Daddy. Maybe he was being im-plus-ive .”
I toss my head back and laugh. “Impulsive.”
“Yeah, that.”
I suck in a lungful of air, and feel a little bit lighter when I exhale. “I love you, kid. You know that, right?”
“Duh.” She smiles as she looks up at me. “I love you too, Uncle Mac.”
I slip my phone out of my pocket. “Let’s call Presley and see if she wants to meet us at the arcade.”
Giuliana gasps. “Really? That’s gonna be so much fun!”
We could all use a little bit of fun right now.
“I took the kids to see Chance yesterday.”
My heart constricts. “I bet they were happy to see him.”
Presley nods. “He’s really beating himself up about this. I’m worried about him.”
I grunt. “He’s not the one in a coma.”
She peels at the label on her water bottle. “He’s always felt responsible for his mother’s death, and now this. There’s only so much weight someone can withstand before they crack.”
Bile rises in my throat, my stomach churning with guilt. I said some awful things to him that night he showed up at Presley’s house. I compared him to his father, which was as low a shot as I could’ve taken at him.
I didn’t mean it. He’s not his father. But I was just so furious—I still am—at the way everything went down on the ice.
“This isn’t me,” I admit. “Anger and resentment and all this turmoil. I feel sick.” My eyes wander to Avery and Alyssa, helping Giuliana shoot basketballs several feet away in the desolate arcade. “And I hate that you’re all in the middle of it.”
“Hey.” Presley cups my cheek and turns my face to meet her eyes. “You’re going through a lot right now. Alex is like a brother to you, and you’re scared. It’s understandable. You don’t have to always be the funny man, you know. We’re here for you. You have our unwavering love and support. And you will get through this, regardless of the outcome.”
My phone buzzes with a notification. My shoulders jump, and I fumble to get my phone out of my pocket, hoping it’s a message from Aarya saying that Alex has woken up.
AllyCat418 wants to chat.
My heart sinks. “I keep meaning to cancel my membership on this site.”
“What site?” Presley leans over and glances at my screen. “Is that Kourtney’s website?”
I nod. “I haven’t been on it since the night I saw you on the KissCam.”
She grins. “Let me see.”
I hand her my phone, and she explores the site. “This is incredible. There’s something for everyone on here.”
“Kourtney did an amazing job with this.”
She clicks on my inbox. “That’s funny. This username is ScoringChance , and that’s Chance’s birthday; February seventeenth.”
My eyebrows pinch together. “Wait, what?”
She hands me back my phone, and I scroll through the private message exchange between me and the anonymous stranger from a couple of months ago.
“Scoring chance is a hockey term, isn’t it?” Presley asks.
I stare at the username in disbelief. “It is.”
“You don’t think it could be Chance, do you?”
“I wouldn’t be able to tell from this thread, but...” I close my eyes, trying to rack my brain to remember what was in the background of his video when we chatted. “We had a video chat once, but it was too dark to make out anything.”
My heart accelerates.
Presley points to one of his messages. “He said he isn’t out yet.”
I shake my head. “There’s no way. That would be too much of a coincidence. Come on, what are the odds we match up on a dating app one week before we run into you at our game.”
“The same odds that I’d show up at both of your games, and end up on the KissCam.” She bites her bottom lip as she rereads our conversation. “I’ve always said we were written in the stars, Stephen. I think there’s a real possibility that this is him.”
Longing and anticipation twist my heart in a vice.
“Only one way to find out.” Presley nudges me with her elbow. “Message this guy. See if he’ll show you a picture of his face.”
“I know you believe in all that zodiac mumbo-jumbo, but it’s not real. It’s not him, Pres.”
It can’t be.
“There’s no harm in asking.” She bounces on her heels. “Come on. I’m dying to know.”
“Aunt Presley!” Alyssa comes waddling over with Giuliana on her back. “We’re hungry. Can we get some pizza?”
“Sure.” Presley side-eyes me, and lowers her voice as she whispers, “Chicken shit.”