Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“What about what you want?”
“It is what I want.”
“But you said you were doing it for your mom.”
“I love skating, so it’s not that hard to shift my goals around and put this one at the top of the list. I’ve got the rest of my life to do whatever the hell else I feel like.”
“You could have gone the professional hockey player route, if you wanted.” He plays pickup with us in the backyard all the time. He’s good. Really good.
“But then I’d be in the same predicament as you and Kody. I like hockey, and maybe if I’d put my focus there instead of on figure skating, I could have been good enough to go pro, maybe not. But trying to make it to the Olympics? Sure, there’s pressure, but it’s not the same. My mom didn’t get to go, so even if I don’t either, I’ll still know I tried. But if I do, well, that’s the accomplishment, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I can see the logic in that, I guess. Sometimes I wonder what the fuck I’m doing.”
“We all wonder that, Mav. And you’ve got some big shoes to fill. You and Kody are part of the reason I went the other direction. It’s a lot of pressure to live up to an idea someone already has of you.”
“Being an Olympic athlete is no less pressure.”
“But a different kind. And I’m not trying for gold. I’m just trying to make it to the trials. And if I don’t, that’s okay, because my goal is trying. Anyway, back to what’s important. When you first walked through the door, you seemed angry, and you weren’t throwing out that vibe when you left this morning.”
“How the fuck can you pick up on my vibe when you were asleep before I left?”
“I heard you rummaging around in the kitchen. You grabbed a granola bar. Actually, you grabbed three—ate two in the kitchen and stuffed one in your pocket. Then you took the garbage to the curb. And I know you were throwing out a different vibe because you were whistling, like you were looking forward to something.”
“Yeah, well, that changed.” I rub the space between my eyes.
“Your booty call didn’t answer the door?” He smirks.
“She’s not a booty call.”
BJ nods slowly. “I knew it had to be a woman.”
“It’s not . . . even a thing, so you can stop right there.”
“Uh-huh. If that’s how you want to play it. Everything about your face tells a very different story.” He pushes back his chair, unfolds his long, lanky frame, and grabs his half-eaten bowl of cereal, patting me on the shoulder as he passes. “I’m here when you want to stop lying to yourself, or you want to talk about the reason you’ve spent a lot of time dating girls you’re not interested in, and now you’re hiding whoever it is you’re involved with.”
“You don’t even do relationships, so how the hell can you offer advice?”
He gives me a look. “I do relationships. They just last for one night most of the time. I’ll see you later. I gotta head home and shower before skate practice.”
And with that, he walks out of the kitchen. A minute later, the front door opens and closes.
As usual, I’m left wondering how my twenty-year-old cousin seems to be the wisest of everyone I know, despite the fact that he sleeps more than most newborns.
Sixteen
Caution Tape
Maverick
I spend the rest of the day mulling. I mull over what BJ said, especially the offhand comment about me dating girls I’m not interested in. And the fact that Clover is married to a guy who’s probably fifteen years older than me.
I don’t like the gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach, or the tightness in my shoulders that I can’t shake, or the way I’m grinding my teeth every time I think about the way her not-quite-ex dismissed me.
I also don’t like that I’m over here telling her my fucking secrets, and Clover didn’t even tell me she’s still married. I feel like I’m being strung along, and I don’t like it. I thought we were on the same page, that we were waiting out the semester until I’m not her student anymore. She said she’s having trouble maintaining boundaries, but maybe I’m making this into something it isn’t.
That thought reinforces all my insecurities, and I’m starting to realize I have a lot of those. Most of which I try to keep buried under smiles and jokes.
So when I hit the ice later that evening for our game, I’m in a sour mood that only gets worse when I miss a tap in during the first period. Luckily, Kody recovers the puck, scoring the goal I missed.
He takes his seat next to me on the bench and Quinn Romero, his roommate and our teammate takes the ice. He’s working on his master’s thesis and while he came here on a hockey scholarship, he wasn’t ever drafted. It doesn’t seem to bother him, though. He plays because he loves the game, not because he feels like he has to.