Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” the girl says again, louder this time.
It’s enough to make the officer pause. I nod once to her as the cop clicks a heavy pair of cuffs around my wrists.
Slowly, the realization begins to settle in.
I might’ve taken down a guy who deserves it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t pay for my good deed.
I can’t believe this is happening.
Actually, I can.
If luck were a spectrum, I’d sit somewhere above Tsutomu Yamaguchi (who survived one atomic bomb only to be killed by another) and below Roy Sullivan (hit by lightning seven times, but at least he survived). Life dealt me a bad hand. So, I barely flinch when the cops shove me into a patrol vehicle to wait as the girl gives her account of what happened.
Ten minutes later, he pulls me out of the car and frees me from the cuffs. I rub my wrists, well aware I’m fortunate to not spend the night in jail.
The guy I beat up agrees not to press charges, a miracle considering I mangled that asshat. I got lucky tonight, that’s for sure. (See? Above Yamaguchi and below Sullivan.)
I can’t even imagine what would have happened if I had been arrested. Coach would bench me, and my father . . . Fuck, I’d never live it down.
But that doesn’t mean I won’t experience my own form of prison.
The cops make me call my father. They ignore every argument I can think of. That I’m eighteen and, legally, am not obligated to call my parents. That I have my phone and am more than capable of finding a ride. That Nick would let me crash here for the night.
None of it passes their litmus test, and who am I to fight it? Alas, small-town politics rear its ugly head yet again.
I make my way to the front, waiting for my father’s arrival and subsequent disapproval. He sounded pretty fucking pissed that he has to pick me up tonight, but I’m sure it has less to do with the errand and more to do with the stain on his image.
I know how I look, standing outside Nick’s house, hands tucked in my pockets, with a police officer babysitting me. That’ll send dear old dad right over the edge.
I purse my lips but don’t speak another word to the cop beside me. Instead, I tap my fingers against my upper thighs as we wait.
I’ll never hear the end of it. Not now. Not ever. Dad has never been one to keep quiet about his plans for me. He expects me to become a hockey legend. Wayne Gretzky, Bobby Orr, and Gordie Howe rolled into one. If I somehow manage to screw that up, I’ll be tossed aside. Disowned. And he’ll absolutely see this as a move that could’ve fucked that future up.
After this, my father will make my life a living hell until I’m finally off to college.
I can’t wait for that day.
It’s the fastest way out of this joint.
I pace back and forth, waiting for his wrath.
It’s wishful thinking to hope that the drive here will cool him off. Nope. On the contrary, it gives him time to simmer in his rage. He’s probably thought up every insult he can possibly throw my way.
Ungrateful.
Incompetent.
Idiot.
Then, the speech will come. Jonathan Sinclair lectures like he’s the keynote speaker of a TedTalk. I expect it to be twice as bad, since I pulled my parents away from a charity event and their important friends. Surprise. Surprise.
There’s always something more important. A reason not to be home with me and my kid sister. It doesn’t really affect me these days since I’m almost out, but Molly is stuck in that house for at least seven more years with that dickhead.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel because college starts in the fall. But Molly’s only eleven, which means years of neglect are still in her future.
That’s the one thing that makes moving away from Ohio hard.
Leaving her behind.
Knowing that, once I go, no one will be here to take care of her.
I shake my head, pulling my mind away from its usual depressing thoughts. She’ll be okay. I peer up at the night sky and take in the darkness that bathes me from above.
The stars are bright tonight, and if it weren’t for my pissed-off father headed to pick me up right now, I’d give anything to just sit and get lost in the peaceful moment.
Where anything is possible.
A life far from here.
One where my life isn’t controlled.
One where I can just be me.
What I would give not to have my father’s voice in my ear. In my head. Telling me what a failure I am.
The only place I excel is hockey, and even then, I’m still not good enough.
I start to pace.
This is taking too long. Where is he? With each passing second, my anxiety grows.