Chapter 4 Break & Reset Beau
Break & Reset
Beau
I’m barely clear of the door before I break into a run.
Sweat drips down my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I ignore it as I grope for the closest door.
The handle gives under my hand after a second attempt, and I stumble through.
The harder I try to catch my breath, the more I feel like I’m drowning.
My vision spots. I can’t go down. I’ve lost track of where I am.
I glance around trying to find something, anything to pull me out of this, but other than the thin sliver of light under the door, there’s only darkness.
I fumble around the walls, damp palms slipping over the surface.
Pain bursts between my eyes, my forehead slamming into a metal shelf, and I’m shocked aware for the briefest moment by the sting.
Phone. I grab my phone out of my pocket, double tapping the back to activate the flashlight.
My head is throbbing, but it’s pulled me out of the attack enough that I can finally catch a breath.
The air tastes sweeter as I gulp in a lungful.
I’m able to take in the small space I’ve ended up in. Neat rows of cleaning supplies and paper products sit on the metal shelf that knocked me back to my senses. There’s a mop leaning against the back wall next to a sink set in the floor.
I drop down in front of the tap, cranking the cold water to splash over my face. The icy shock rips a gasp from me but does its job, pulling me the rest of the way out of it, and I lean back on my heels, shivers ripping through me now.
My knees are shaky as I shuffle back over to the door, letting myself slip to the floor.
The clock on my phone tells me only about fifteen minutes have passed.
It felt more like an hour. She’s probably still in the building.
No one can see me like this, so I let my head fall against the door, concentrating on taking slow breaths to ease my racing heart and trembling hands.
I’ll wait it out for a bit before heading home.
I’m in no condition to drive anyway, and I don’t even know who I’d call to give me a ride.
Cece is the only one who has ever seen me like this, but now that she’s with Dev.
.. I can’t. I just can’t let him see me like this. His team captain.
I’ve counted every single item on the metal shelving twice when my phone lights up with a notification.
Cole: Is your meeting over? Could use a hand.
My back snaps into position. Cole needs a hand. He’s done so much for the team this year. Things that I should have handled.
Me: What’s up?
Cole: Mabel's not feeling it today. Maybe a jump?
Cole inherited the rusty old excuse for a vehicle from Jacks after he graduated, but she’s very temperamental. Some days she just won’t start.
My fingers snag in my damp hair when I run a hand through it, trying to straighten out the mess.
Me: You in the players’ lot?
Cole: Yup
Me: Give me fifteen.
Cole: K
The rough floor scrapes my palms as I push myself up, testing my legs to make sure they’re steady.
Everything in order, I rise, stretching my arms over my head.
Anyone could be waiting outside the door, so I ease it open, dipping out when I see the way is clear.
There’s no sign of life in the dimly lit hallway, so I hurry down it.
The creak of the metal door echoes down the vacated floor.
It puts me on edge again, but I have a purpose now, so I keep moving, taking the steps two at a time.
“Whitaker. You’re still here? Did you get in an extra workout after practice?
” Coach’s booming voice matches the intensity of his hand landing on my back.
It’s hard to keep the wince under control.
I’m still a little off-kilter, sounds and touches amplified.
But I’ve had years of practice masking my reactions. Whitakers don’t show weakness.
“Yes.”
“You’re always such a great example for your team. Good on you. How’d it go with your new partner?”
Guilt churns my stomach. I hate lying to him. And if he knew what I was hiding, he wouldn’t be so quick to praise me.
“It was good. We’re going to meet up after practice Wednesday to make a game plan.” My voice comes out solid, deceptively strong.
“Excellent. I’ll let you get to it. Welcome back. Hope you had a good holiday.”
“It was fine.” Coach is a decent guy, but I know he’s not going to dig any deeper.
“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ve got our morning planning session to get ready for the new semester. I know I don’t need to remind you.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Relief floods my body as we part ways, and I head for the dressing room to grab my stuff and straighten myself out before I go help Cole. The task has given me a renewed purpose and helps chase away the remnants of anxiety.
I’m surprised the beaten-up old door is solid enough to hold Cole’s weight as he leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. Only a sliver of his face is visible between the thick winter coat pulled up almost to his nose and the black beanie.
“You could have waited inside.”
“I’m good.” He pushes up off the car, strolling around to pop the hood. It groans in protest.
“You think it’s the battery?” I know nothing about cars, but I am capable of a jump-start.
“Hopefully. Anything else will be more expensive than I care to think about.”
“Let me grab my car, and we’ll give it a shot.”
My big black SUV lets out a double chirp as I walk across the quiet lot. Only a handful of cars linger, waiting for their owners to finish up for the day.
Our cars couldn’t be any different. Mine is only a couple of years old, top of the line package, shiny and showy, where his has seen things. Probably good things. There are positive memories etched in the paint.
The jump-start is a dismal failure.
“Come on, Mabel, please.” He pleads with the car, but she won’t budge, won’t rumble to life.
“Shit!” he says, hopping on one foot after his foot slams into the tire. His head whips toward me. “Don’t tell Jacks.”
I shake my head. “Secret’s safe.”
“I guess I need a lift.”
“No problem. Want me to call for a tow?”
“Nah. I’ll look a few things up, see if I can tinker with her to get her going tomorrow.”
I nod. If he can’t figure it out tomorrow, I’ll see about getting it fixed for him. If he’ll let me. What’s the point of having family money if you can’t help a friend?
Last year I never would have thought he’d be someone I’d count as a friend, but after he moved in with us, we connected.
And after I found out about Dev and my sister sneaking around behind my back, I kind of lost it.
We’re easing back into our former friendship, but things are different now.
I think I’m closer to Cole than anyone else on the team at this point.
He’s a good guy, and he deserves all the success he’s worked so hard for when he goes pro. There’s a streak of jealousy trying to corrode that goodwill, but I won’t let it. We’ve all got our roles to play. Mine just happens to be one I didn’t get to choose for myself.
We huck our bags into the trunk, then swing ourselves up into the vehicle. I slam the door shut a little harder than necessary, instantly regretting it as the sound slices through my already oversensitive head.
“How was your meeting?”
“It was fine.” I twist toward him as I’m doing up my seatbelt, catching his raised eyebrow.
“Fine? Sure. I know she made a shitty first impression, but I’ve seen her stuff. She’s a fantastic player and a positive role model. The kind of influencer I’d be happy to see my sister watching.”
“You’ve been watching her too?” I crane my neck to do a shoulder check as I back up. “Am I the only one not on that app?”
“Probably. Like an eighth of the world’s population is on it.”
“I guess I’m going to have to add one more. Against my better judgment. Social media is a trash heap.”
“It can be, but there are some decent spaces on there if you look for them. For the record, I only checked her out because of JJ. It was the peer pressure. Something about that guy. He gets under your skin and makes you think a thing was your own idea.”
“He is a piece of work. But he’s going to be a stellar goalie when he’s all grown up.”
“Yup. Now about Wilder.”
I sigh. “Do we have to talk about her? How are things going with Jazz? You two still good?
The smile that spreads across his face could power his car if he could harness it. “You know we are.”
I do know. She spends as much time at our place as she does at her own. I’m not complaining. She likes to practice new recipes for us, and her baking is unreal. Better than most of the fancy bakeries our parents would take us to when we went on rare trips together.
“Don’t try to distract me. I think you were too harsh on Wilder. Just imagine you had your entire schedule rearranged halfway through the year. She and her team were forced to work their lives around a brand-new schedule. I’m sure they won’t go over on their ice time again.”
He’s probably right, but that doesn’t excuse her filming a social media video on our ice time. “They’d better not.” I mutter. Then I try to imagine what it would do to me if my life got uprooted like that. It would send me spiraling. I don’t handle that kind of unexpected change well.
“Seriously. She’s good people. Give her a little grace.”
“I’ll try.” I shift in my seat at a red light, the click of my turn signal filling in the silence for us.
Almost like a clock ticking down to the end of the year.
The end of my hockey career. I’ve started obsessing about it.
Too many things are a reminder of what I have to let go of when I graduate.
“Good.”
“Listen, Cole. Thank you for all the work you’ve done with Hail this year. He’s really made a U-turn attitude-wise, and it’s taken our team to the next level. We really have a shot at the championship this year.”
“We do. It’s going to be an epic year.”
Our footsteps reverberate across the porch as we make our way to the front door.
I drop my messenger bag to the ground, pretending to tie my laces before we head into the house.
I need a minute to gather myself before I enter that chaos.
The guys are great, but sometimes they can be a bit much.
Overwhelming my senses. Particularly when I’m still fresh off a panic attack.
My pause lets me sidestep the brunt of JJ’s enthusiasm. The boy can’t seem to walk anywhere. He hurls his six-four frame into Cole’s arms, tumbling to the ground with a thud when Cole doesn’t catch him.
“Idiot,” Cole says, but there are no sharp edges to the complaint. Just a hint of laughter.
JJ is obnoxious, but somehow endearing, and even the surliest member of the team has grown to tolerate him.
“When do we get to hang out with Luna?” he asks me, but he clearly has enough sense not to try jumping on me. He has a very slight iota of common sense now and again.
“I have a meeting with her on Wednesday. Then we’ll talk.”
Enthusiasm explodes from every pore. “Awesome. I can’t wait. I have this idea for a video we can all do. There’s this dance where everyone lines up in a pyramid.” His voice trails off as he wanders away, still babbling excitedly.
I shake my head. “There will be no dancing. We’re hockey players.”
“The Sirens did it. If a pro team can follow the trends, we can too.”
“Not happening.” Dev’s deep rumble is a solid protest. JJ seems to have become quite attached to him this year. Like a puppy befriending a lion or a bear.
I look over to my best friend, a weak flame of anger making its presence known at the sight of him sitting on my couch, one arm draped around my sister.
It’s a reflex. I bargained with our father for her freedom.
Logically, I can see they’re good for each other.
She brings him out of his shell, and he provides some calm to her chaos, but it’s hard to let go of the protectiveness I feel for my twin.
It’s always been us against everyone else.
“Hey, Bo Bo.” Her mouth twists in a mischievous grin, knowing how much I hate that nickname.
“Sissy.” Her nose wrinkles. “You staying for dinner?”
“Yup.”
“Well then, you can contribute to the house you seem to spend more time at than your own and order something for everyone. I’m feeling like curry.”
“Hey, we spend more time at my house. Have to look after my fuzzy children.”
“Right. Please can you order dinner? I need a minute to clean myself up.”
Her eyes widen, the teasing grin vanishing. She can read me better than anyone else, so she picks up on the subtext that I need a little alone time after a hectic day.
“Got it. Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing. Your twin has got it covered.”
“Thanks.” I turn back to Cole. “I’ll give you a lift in tomorrow and we can see about Mabel.”
“Great. Thanks again for being there for me.”
“Of course.”
The chatter in the room picks up as I drag my tired legs up the stairs. Maybe I’ll hit my bed for a quick nap and recharge before I head down for dinner. I think I’m going to need any extra juice for my social battery to make it through this week.