Chapter 9
Jayden Allen
A ctive Hour is close to empty at this time of morning, my grunts reverberating in the gym as I complete my final rep.
I grip the barbell, tensing while it sits on my shoulders. My gaze is on the mirror, checking my posture and the rise and fall of my chest. I engage my muscles, returning from a squat to a standing position. The iron weight rattles against the rack as I place it back.
The first crack of light filters in the windows, reflecting off the mirror and onto my face. Purple bags linger under my eyes from my lack of sleep but despite this, I still came to the gym for a personal session.
I find sweating out my emotions through physical exercises is better than bottling everything up, which is my go-to method most of the time.
The treadmill is the final part of my cool down. It’s my chance to decrease my heart rate as well as ponder the up-and-coming games. We have our second and third game back-to-back this weekend in Michigan.
To fit all our games in, we have to play two days in a row against the same team. This weekend, we are versing Northern Michigan Stars.
The Stars have been one of the best teams since I started at Lakewood, so getting one over them early in the season would be a great confidence booster.
My legs burn, beginning to tremble. I stop my treadmill, waiting until it has finished moving before hopping off.
After grabbing my bag from my cubby, I pull up my mum’s number.
Me:
Can I have your blueberry pancake recipe, please?
Her reply is almost instant.
Mum:
Of course! I’ll send it through.
I thought you hated blueberries.
Me:
I do.
I shake my head as I pocket my phone, not wanting to be interrogated by my mother. She will know something is up, but I don’t want to be lectured for my behaviour. Even though I deserve one.
Last night was a fucking disaster. I was already on edge from the moment Cooper uttered the word party, and when I saw Willow succumbing to the alcohol, I needed to step in.
In hindsight, I went about it the wrong way and regret all the words that slipped from my mouth. It scared the shit out of me seeing her on the verge of a panic attack. Because of my sister's history with them, I've studied the signs and symptoms, ready to step in if she needed help.
Now, I'm the cause of one.
This morning’s gym session was my avoidance tactic but I can’t do that any longer. I owe Willow an apology. Honestly, she deserves more than that.
The game we played yesterday proved her skills gel perfectly with the rest of the team. We want to win the Frozen Four, every competitive hockey player does. So, civility is key.
The house is quiet when I arrive, the floor creaking under my feet. I sneak into the kitchen, finding all the ingredients from the recipe mum sent me.
I measure every cup of flour and sugar, not wanting to fuck this up too. I’ve never been the best cook, but I can follow a recipe.
Personally, I couldn’t think of anything worse than blueberries in pancakes, but it is Willow’s favourite breakfast. I always knew when Willow had stayed the night because the smell of cinnamon and maple syrup drifted through the house.
One day in particular sticks in my mind.
Meadow Beach – Two Years Ago
Willow’s sobs stop me from moving down the stairs. I shouldn’t linger, but I can’t help myself.
“I don’t know what to do, Ashley,” Willow says, hiccupping in between her words.
I press my body against the wall, not moving a muscle.
Glancing around the corner, I can make out Willow sitting on a stool, leaning against the kitchen bench.
Her red hair sits below her shoulder blades and has waves running through them.
Mum is on the other side, mirroring Willow’s posture.
She reaches over, clasping their hands together.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you. Have you told anyone?”
“No.” The words are rushed, and I can hear the fear lacing her tone.
What are they talking about? Mum’s words are soft, yet they imply something different.
Is someone hurting Willow? I grit my teeth, channelling the anger building in my blood into my clenched fists.
Willow seemed like herself yesterday–bold and loud. She came home from Nevada as our colleges are on break for the summer. Although her parents now live in Nevada, she prefers Meadow Beach. I have always been able to tell.
Willow’s hazel eyes light up at any mention of the beach or taking a trip to Books & Brews, the best cafe in town.
In the hockey season that recently passed, I only played Willow once, the other times, she was on the bench. It was weird. Especially considering her team was being thrashed on the ice. They could have used her multiple times.
Willow’s next words hit me like a fucking bullet to the heart.
“I think I want to quit hockey.”
My chest tightens. What the fuck? Willow loves hockey, every time we are on the ice, she never wants to get off. I risk another glance to the kitchen, where mum is sliding a stack of blueberry pancakes across the counter.
There is a moment of silence and I wish I could see Willow’s face as she stared at the plate in front of her.
“Did you know these are my favourites?” Willow murmurs.
Mum smiles. “Of course. You’re the only reason I keep blueberries in my house. Jayden and Jazmine hate them.”
Willow barks out a laugh and the tension in my shoulders melts slightly. I close my eyes, deciding to move back to my bedroom.
I’ve ears dropped for long enough. Besides, she would kill me if she knew I listened to her private conversation and heard her cry.
Willow hates crying in front of others.
I sink onto my mattress, wanting to know what went down at Nevada. If someone laid their fucking hands on her, I will hurt them.
The thought has me shaking my head and trying to convince myself that this reaction is normal. Willow is my sister’s best friend and despite the two of us not getting along most of the time, I never want to see her hurt.
Present Time – Hockey House
“Earth to Jayden.”
I jump, spinning around at the sound of Hayes’ voice. “Sorry.” I clutch the spatula in my right hand tighter. “Didn’t hear you guys enter,”
Aiden moves his head, trying to look over my shoulder. He raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing? Better question, why are you cooking?”
“No reason.”
I turn back, flipping the four pancakes in the pan over. These should be the last ones. I grab a container from the bottom drawer, scooping all the pancakes into it.
Hayes and Aiden are muttering to themselves, but I ignore them. Finally, I write Willow’s name on a sticker, so no one else eats the food.
“Why are you writing Willow’s name?” Aiden asks. Somehow, I know there is a smirk forming on his lips. Asshole.
“Because they are for her. No one else is allowed to eat them.”
I pack the container into the fridge and refuse to look at my teammates as I leave the kitchen. Checking the time, I realise there isn’t long until my first class.
After a quick shower, I’m ready to leave. It is only once I arrive at campus that a message from Aiden lights up my phone.
*Aiden sent an attachment*
Willow is sitting at the dining table, eating the blueberry pancakes I made her. The thing that almost makes me miss a step and fall flat on my face is the smile clinging to her lips.
I stare for seconds, possibly minutes, relishing in the pride surging in my heart.
I made Willow smile.
And now, I want to do it again.