Chapter 6
KAI
“Ohhh, true American! Shitty barbarian! We don’t give a fuck, we come rolling in again!”
The boys scream the words to “Never Back Down” by The Rocks.
The bass blasts through the speakers in the locker room, riling up every guy on the team as we take off our gear.
The stench of sweat and old socks stinks up the room.
I’m so desensitized to it at this point that it’s comforting as much as it’s fucking disgusting.
“We got power! We don’t cower! Doo-doo-doooo!” Jonas bobs his head to the beat and rattles my shoulders. I throw my head back, laughing hard.
Luke whips off his jersey and flings his head back.
“Say what you mean! Give me your wors—” his voice cracks.
The boys burst out laughing. Rowan and I collapse against the wall, tears springing out of our eyes.
“Jesus fuck,” he cackles.
My phone vibrates on the bench. I fumble for it, my body still shaking with laughter. A text from Uncle Manu lights up the screen.
UNCLE MANU
Good luck on the ice this season, petit bouc! Can’t wait to come down and watch the first game!
I smile softly. My hand instinctively roves over my tattoo.
No matter what I’ve been through, I’ll never stop owing it all to Uncle Manu. He’s the reason why I started playing hockey in the first place. He drove me to practices, bought all my gear, and cheered me on at my games.
He’s the reason why I have the boys.
“Hey, let’s get some food at Ollie’s!” Jonas shouts, “Kai, you in?”
“Yeah! Let’s—”
My phone goes off again. This time, it’s an email from the Pacific Observer, a media outlet I’m interning with for my business degree. My smile drops at the first words.
Hi Kai, I hope this email finds you well.
They never do.
Your colleague Sanjay is down with the flu and is not able to make it to the HMG’s partnership dinner tonight. I might need you to step in on his behalf if the tech issues at the office persist. Can you make it?
My fingers tense against my phone. This internship is supposed to give me field experience in the business and strategic communications side of the media outlet.
They’ve been trying to find ways to reach their long-term business goals in a world that’s going completely digital.
I’d rather bash my head into plexiglass than do this internship.
But getting my business degree is a part of the deal I struck with my parents, so I could stay in Vancouver with Uncle Manu and play hockey.
One day, if I never go pro, I can take over Motu Views, a touring business my mom owned in Ha’apiti.
It’s a little place in Mo’orea, the sister island of Tahiti, in French Polynesia.
But working for Motu Views isn’t a life I want to live.
I’ve seen my parents staying up over FaceTime, their eyes sagging and tired from pouring over budgeting and itinerary planning in an ongoing cycle that never stops.
That’s why it matters that this season goes well.
If I prove that my hard work on the ice is consistent and unbreakable, I can get signed to a team as a free agent.
This is my last chance to do everything I can to live the life I’ve always dreamed about.
For now, I have a deal to uphold if any of that is going to happen.
“Sorry, guys, I can’t make it.” I frown. “I gotta do something for my internship.”
“Aww, shit. That sucks.” Ryan smacks my shoulder on his way out of the locker room. “Catch you next time.”
The boys pat my arm and ruffle my hair on the way out.
I reel in a deep breath before I answer the email. The moment it sends, my head drops against the wall. It aches under the crushing weight of fighting for a life I want against the tide of what my parents expect of me.