Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
I hug my aunt, and then I turn to see my grandparents walking in. I’m about to walk over to them when I turn and see my father standing in front of me. He’s wearing a suit, just like he always is. His hands are in his pants pockets.
"Maybe we should talk."
"Maybe?" I ask. When he looks at me, I can see the hurt in his eyes. I hope he can see the hurt in mine.
"Fine," he huffs. "We need to talk."
My heart hammers in my chest. I don’t care how old you get, when your father says we need to talk, you get nervous. "I think that would be good."
"You think?" He comes back with a joke, and I smile and look down.
"Fine," I huff. "It would be good to talk to you."
"Tomorrow, then," he says. "Come by the house before lunch."
When I take a second and pretend I’m thinking about it, he laughs, and tears hit me like I just ran face-first into it. "I’ll be there," I say softly and wipe away the tear threatening to fall. He leans in, taking my neck in his arms and kissing my head.
"Good," he replies and turns to walk away to greet his parents.
"See, that wasn’t so bad," Vivi says, and I just sniffle. "Although I did think he was going to go in for a chokehold." I throw my head back and let out the biggest laugh I have in the past month. Maybe things will be okay after all.
Chapter 6
Wilson
"Twenty minutes, boys," I huff. "We cannot lose on opening night." I’m taping my stick between the second and third period. "Especially with an after-party." I shake my head. "Not tonight." I make sure that the tape is on good before I sit back down.
"He’s right," Manning agrees, sitting at his spot on the bench. "We are down by one goal, so we still have time to turn this game around."
No one says anything as we line up to get back on the ice. "Manning!" Coach yells. "Your line is up."
I look down the line at Miller, who skates onto the ice, followed by Cooper, Michael, and me. "Let’s do this, boys." I crouch down and put my stick on the ice. The puck drops, and Cooper wins the face-off, sending it back to Manning, who lets the puck sit on his blade while we skate up. Manning sees me open, and it looks like he’s going to pass it to me, but I nod toward Michael, who is waiting at the line with no one in front of him. He slides it to Michael, and he takes it into the zone while I skate to the other side. Michael sends it over to me, and one of the other team members gives me a body check. He falls to his knees next to me, and I knock his head down, skating around him. He gets up and starts tapping the back of my legs with his stick while I watch Cooper and Michael pass the puck back and forth to each other, then slide it back to Manning.
"Pussy." The guy tries to goad me, but instead, I’m watching the play. The guy messing with me is so distracted that he doesn’t see Michael skate up right behind him and shoot the puck right over the goalie's pad. When the place goes crazy and the horns blow, I look back at the guy.
"Who’s the pussy now?" I ask. He lifts his hand in the air, holding his stick in both hands. It comes so fast I don’t have a chance to protect myself before he cross-checks me across the face. My head flies back, and I hear ringing in my ears. I slip and fall on my ass, the guy falling on top of me, trying to hit me in the face. I get up on my skates, throwing my gloves to the side. One of the referees grabs me by the shoulders, telling me to calm down, while another referee is holding the other guy back. "You better hold him back," I say. "Because I’m going to make his face look like a pussy."
They put us both in the penalty box, and I grab the towel on the bench, wiping my nose that got the brunt of that hit. "You got two minutes for unsportsmanlike conduct." I shake my head, not even bothering to argue with them. The announcer then declares the other guy is getting a five-minute major and one game misconduct. Manning comes over, bringing me my stick and gloves. "You good?"
"Yeah," I say, grabbing them from him. "Nothing I haven’t felt before."
"Well, after the game, how about I give you a sticker for being a good boy?" he jokes. I give him the bird before he skates away.