by Toni Aleo
When the side door opens, I look up to see Jude coming out and down the stairs with his stick. He tried to talk to me last night, but I shut that down quickly and stayed locked up in my room. I tried to sleep, but all I could do was see the hurt in her eyes, the shock and deceit that was in them when I said what I did. I regret it. I wish I had talked to her about what I was feeling. I’m sure she might have agreed with me, but then I felt like she was too gone. I wish I could have been man enough to tell her that we shouldn’t do it and trust that I could walk her out. Instead, everything blew up in my face when all I was trying to do was do right by her.
If I could, I’d do it all over again, and this time, I would have been honest.
Not a fucking coward like she said.
When he taps the ground with his stick, I look up, seeing that Jude is by the goal. I send the puck hard to him and he redirects it into the goal with ease. We’ve been doing this since we were kids; I’d be completely surprised if he had missed. When his arms go up, I shake my head. He’s such a showboat.
“And the crowd goes wild!” he says in an announcer’s voice. “Those Sinclair brothers are lethal!”
We were, before he moved, but I won’t tell him that, he’s trying to cheer me up. So with a forced grin, I move a puck back and forth then take a shot, this time missing the pipe altogether, the puck slamming into the house. Making sure it didn’t damage anything—thank God it didn’t—I reach for another puck.
“Working on your wrist shot, I see?”
I nod, throwing another puck to the goal, hitting the crossbar this time. “Yup. Was told it sucks.”
He nods. “It does, but you can lay a dude out and slap shot like a dream, so I’m sure no one really pays attention.”
My mouth pulls up at the side as I shoot again. Baylor noticed. Feeling like a dog that’s been kicked a few times, I shoot over and over again, taking turns with Jude. He doesn’t say much, especially when I keep looking down the driveway, hoping to see Baylor walking up.
“How ya holding up?” he finally asks and I shrug.
“Ah, I’ll be okay.”
“You look sick.”
I smile. “I’m hungover. Too much Jack.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “You got yourself a nice little bruise there too.”
Reaching up, I rub the tender spot on my jaw and I want to laugh. We both have matching bruises. I gave her hers and she gave me mine. Kind of masochistic in a way, I guess.
“Yeah.”
He looks over at me, but I ignore his knowing look as I shoot again. “Hey Jay, so surely I’m wrong, but you aren’t waiting for her, are you?”
I shrug, looking over at him. “Why would you ask that?”
“Well, I heard the date being made during the showdown of beer pong, and you’ve been out here since ten this morning. Your shoulders are burnt, and you look like a kid waiting for the ice cream truck.”
He’s right, but I don’t care. “I don’t know.”
“You know she isn’t coming, right?”
“You don’t know that,” I say, reaching for another puck and shooting. When the door opens again, we both look up to see Jace and Delanie coming down the stairs. It’s the first we’ve seen of them, and I’ve been waiting. But when she looks at me, I know the answer to my next question.
“Hey, have you talked to you Baylor?”
“Yeah,” she says with a nod, glaring at me and sending me to the fiery depths of hell with her eyes. “And just in case you are confused on how to fuck off, it’s quite easy. Go throw yourself off a bridge or something.”
Well, then.
Glancing over at Jude, I say, “I guess you’re right, she isn’t going to come play.”
“She’ll never want to speak to you again,” Delanie says, and I nod. “She’ll kill you if she ever sees you again!”
“Yeah, I got that,” I say, letting out a breath. I don’t miss the tap against my shin though from Jude.
“You’re a dick,” is her decision and I shrug.
“That’s the rumor on the street,” I say, exhaling a breath as Jace steals back her attention.
Thankfully.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as she leans over, kissing him fully on the lips. “I’m sorry your brother is a dick. You’re great though.”
He smacks her ass before pulling her in tight. “Not my problem, those two. But you were great last night and this morning.”
“Aw,” she says, cupping his face. “I just want to bottle you up and carry you around.”
“He gets an aw for having a one-night stand, and I try to be a gentleman and get a bruised jaw,” I mutter to Jude, which causes him chuckle.
“Girls be nuts.”
“True that,” I say, rolling the puck off my blade, missing the crossbar but getting it in the net.
“Call me if you ever get to Nashville, okay?”
“For sure,” she agrees, pressing her lips to his once more. Since they are disgusting, I shoot the puck, hitting it off the side of the pipe. Jude taps me on the shin before taking the puck and shooting himself, getting it smack-dab in the middle. Delanie then says bye to Jude but flips me off as she walks away, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I’m not a bad dude,” I say out loud, more to myself than my brothers.
But both of them nod. “You’re not,” Jude says. “And I don’t admit that much.”
“What the hell happened? Baylor called, pulling Delanie out of bed. I had at least another two hours of nasty time.”
Sending him a look of little sympathy, I say, “Sorry for ruining that.”
“It’s fine. What happened?”
Letting out another breath, I lean on my stick and explain to my younger brother what happened. I really don’t think he cares, but when I finish, he shakes his head.
“Bitches be crazy, man, and she was hundred shades of it. I didn’t trust her from the beginning,” he says, reaching for a spare stick and grabbing a puck.
And that bugs me. “’Cause you don’t know her. She’s really great.”
“How can you say that when she punched you and called you out like she did? You don’t have daddy issues, and she’s lucky you even wanted to touch her.”
Shaking my head, I look up at the sky, drawing a breath in through my nose. “Because she was different. I deserved it.”
“How did you deserve it? You were trying to do right by her.”
Jude rolls his eyes. “Jace, were you listening? He didn’t tell her the truth; he covered it up because she was so mad. She wasn’t listening to reason. She was drunk.”
“Oh,” Jace says then with a shrug. “Well, who the fuck cares? You won’t ever see her again. No reason to let her ruin the rest of our vacation. Plenty of hot sexy bitches left.”
“Ah, to be young and not care one bit about anyone else’s feelings,” I mutter, receiving a glare from him.
“It isn’t that I don’t care, it’s that you are allowing her to have too much power over you. Her loss, man, let it go. Let’s go parasailing or something,” he says with a shrug.
But I don’t want to go parasailing. I want to make this better, but I’m not sure how. I’m actually half tempted to go by their house and see if I can see her. To apologize. But I doubt she’ll see me. She’d probably try to drown me in the ocean.
Shooting the puck, Jude says, “I’m sorry, dude. I know you really liked her.”
Looking over at Jude, I tap his shin. The manly hockey way of saying thanks and a billion other things. “Thanks.”
“Fuck, you two are my role models? Two crybabies?” Jace says then, visibly annoyed with us.
“Hey, fuck you, you little shit. We are great role models,” Jude says, standing up a little taller.
“In every aspect of life except girls.”
“What does that mean? I have a great relationship,” Jude says back, scrunching his face up, and even I’m confused by Jace’s little outburst.
“Yeah, but you cried ove
r her for fucking hours, and now you’re crying over some chick that means nothing to you,” he says, pointing to me, and all I can do is glare at him.
“How do you know she doesn’t mean anything to me?” I ask, incredulously. “Obviously she does, or I wouldn’t be so bummed about it. Not everyone is programmed to just walk around, fucking anything with tits and leaving them behind.”
“It’s a better life than actually caring about someone,” he says. “Use and dump, that’s my motto.”
This little shit.
“You say that because you haven’t met someone worth making a life with,” Jude says.
“Whatever, y’all are weak,” he says, shooting the puck quickly into the goal.
For some reason, the little shit’s comments have pissed me off, and I find myself closing the distance between us. Reaching for his shirt, I yank him to me, his eyes going wide as he looks up at me.
“Listen, you little shit, not everyone is our dad, okay? So shut the fuck up and grow the fuck up, because you aren’t him either,” I sneer. He sputters something, fear visible in his green eyes, but I don’t let up, not even when Jude tries to stop me.
“Whoa, killer, back down,” he says, but I smack him away.
“And if you think you’re gonna be Dad, you have another thing coming. I will beat you stupid. No girl deserves to be treated like that, and every time you fuck a girl and leave her behind, think of how our mother felt when our dad did it to her.”
Breaking away from me, he pushes me off him. But instead of snatching him back up, I let him be as he says, “Damn, dude, I’m just having fun! Why you being a dick about something that isn’t even a big deal? I’m not hurting anyone!”
“Yeah, well, your fun hurts people in the long run. Respect girls, okay?”
He doesn’t say anything, just glares before stomping into the house like a little baby. When he reaches the door, I fully expect him to look back at me and tell me he’s calling Mom. But to my surprise, the door slams behind him as Jude comes into my heated view.
“Dude, we all have fucked around. I know you have.”
Shaking my head, I pinch the bridge of my nose as I exhale a breath. “Yeah, but we always made sure girls knew the score,” I say, turning to get a puck. “He’s careless. Mom has babied him. We have to remind him how to treat women.”
“Yeah, just calm your shit, dude. You’re being a dick,” he says, taking the puck to shoot. “And I know why.”
Looking over at him, I’m sure he has no clue. But to entertain him, I ask, “Why’s that?”
“Because you have daddy issues.”
“Fuck you,” I scoff, shooting the puck hard in the goal. “You don’t know shit.”
But he doesn’t let up. “Dude, I know you. You’re my best friend.”
Ignoring him, I shoot again and again. I can feel his gaze on me as the anger bubbles inside me. Finally, I can’t hold it in. Pausing, I let the stick hang loosely in my hand as I look over at him. Pointing my stick at him, I nod before saying, “Yeah, we may be best friends, but you left. You’ve started your own life and left us behind. You don’t have to watch Mom cry or deal with Lucy, Angie, and Jace. I do. I have to do it all. You only see half of what’s going on.”
Folding his arms across his chest, he holds my gaze and doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by my impromptu outburst. “Because that’s what I’m supposed to do. Mom didn’t raise me to sit back and not live, and she didn’t raise you to do that. Stop letting everyone else hold you back. It’s not your job to care for them.”
“But they are my family!” I yell, surprising not only him but myself.
Taking a step toward me, he points at me as he glares at me. “You’re right, and you are my brother, my best friend. And I’m telling you right now—stop dwelling on what that sperm donor did. Stop worrying about Mom and her problems. Claire and I have the finances taken care of. Stop working two jobs and working your ass off at school—”
“I have to,” I counter, but he shakes his head.
“No, you need to focus on your game so that you can join me in the NHL. Mom would lose her shit if she knew how much you are allowing all our family drama to hold you back. I’ve seen it, but Claire told me to let you work it out on your own, but you’re not. You’re holding it in. Quit. Worry about you. Live the life you want, and most of all, don’t let this chick fuck you up any more than she already has.”
Looking away, I bite into my lip to keep it from wobbling. I don’t want to admit that he’s right, but he is. When he takes me by the shoulder, squeezing it, I look up, meeting his intense gaze. As much as he hates our dad, he has the same mannerisms. He is our dad made over, he just isn’t a dick, and he sure as hell doesn’t fuck around. When he speaks, you listen.
“I may be gone, not in your face driving you crazy, but I am a phone call away. I’m your brother and that will never change. You will always have me, Jayden. Stop carrying all this weight on those massive shoulders. You have me and you have Jace. He may be a little shit, but he is our little shit, and he will help you if you need it. I know Lucy has a lot on her plate, but even she can be there for you when needed. You can’t do it all; you’re not supposed to do it all. So stop. Okay? Do you understand me?”
I don’t answer him as I look away. It’s so much easier said than done. He doesn’t understand how it feels to watch my mom cry. To see Lucy nervous and stressed out. To watch Jace being so fucking careless. He has a one-track mind. Sex and getting into the NHL. It drives me insane, but fuck, Jude’s right. Nodding, I look up, holding his gaze. I hadn’t realized how much I needed this talk. I needed to know that I had him behind me, but maybe if I had asked, I would have known earlier. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.
“Yeah, I got you.”
“Good,” he says, squeezing my shoulder again. “Now, let’s walk over to this chick’s house so you can apologize.”
Looking up, my brows come together. “What?”
“Come on, I’ll go with you to Baylor’s so if she tries to stab you, I can save you,” he says with a grin. “She looks like the stabbing type or maybe a clawer. Oh shit, you remember Cassie? How she tried to claw my eyes out?”
I laugh as I nod. “That chick was nuts.”
“Right? And I told her that I didn’t want a girlfriend, jeez,” he says, shaking his head, and then he smiles before glancing over at me. “But yeah, come on, we’ll go together.”
I smile as I scoff. “She won’t see me.”
“Yeah, but you can yell at the door that you’re sorry. I know it’s killing you.”
“It is,” I admit as the door opens and Jace comes out.
“Hey, I made us an appointment for parasailing. Let’s go,” he says, slamming the door behind him, swinging the car keys in his hands.
“What time?” Jude asks.
“In an hour. Figured we can go hang out at the beach, check out chicks and shit,” he says, coming up to us. “You ready?”
“Yeah, you know where Delanie is staying?”
He nods. “Yeah, why?”
“We’re gonna stop by real quick. Jayden wants to talk to Baylor,” he says, hooking his arm across my shoulders. “And because we are good brothers, we are gonna protect her from clawing his eyes out.”
But Jace shakes his head. “No can do. They left.”
“What?” I ask, confused, as my stomach drops. “They weren’t supposed to leave till eight tonight.”
“Yeah, well, you pissed her off so bad, she wanted to leave right away,” Jace says, pulling his phone out. “Yeah, they left twenty minutes ago.”
Well, shit.
“Damn it. Okay,” Jude says, putting his hands on his hips as he thinks. “Wanna fly to Arkansas?”
I laugh as I shake my head. “No man, I guess I’ll just never get to apologize. Which is probably for the best. Gotta keep my eyes, ya know?”
Jude laughs as Jace nods. “For sure, plenty of oth
er girls to see.”
But...I don’t want to see any other girls.
I want to see Baylor and I want to apologize.
“You could always find her on Facebook, send a message,” Jude suggests, but I shake my head.
“Yeah, I don’t know. We’ll see,” I say with a shrug. “Let’s go.”
I see them hesitate, but I’m sure they know that I want them to let it go. Even though that will be very hard for me. I don’t do well without closure. I have to make sure all my loose ends are tied, but this is something that may never get tied. I should take Jude’s suggestion and message her, but that doesn’t seem right. When and if I apologize, I want it to be in person.
Because she deserves nothing less.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I look in the review mirror, meeting Delanie’s worry-filled eyes and shake my head. “Nothing to talk about.”
“It’s not good to hold in all that rage. I can see it; you’re about to combust,” Mandie says, looking back as I untangle my earbuds.
There is no way in fucking hell I’m gonna sit in the car with these two “talk your feelings out” chicks and make it back home without killing them both. Or myself. So for the safety of my friends, I’m going to completely ignore them and listen to music that in no way, shape, or form reminds me of that son of a bitch, Jayden Sinclair.
Shrugging my shoulders, I say again, “There is nothing to talk about.”
“Are you kidding me? That asshole rejected you and didn’t even have the balls to tell you. Instead, he went and got Mandie. And then he told you your mom didn’t want you!” Delanie shrieks.
“Thank you, Delanie. I forgot all of that, and so nice of you to remind me,” I deadpan, rolling my eyes as I put my buds in my ears. “Nothing like the sting of rejection coming back full force.”
“I’m just saying! You should have nut-punched him or ripped his dick off and stuffed it down his throat,” she suggests with a shake of her head. Sucking in a breath, I look through my phone for something to listen to, hoping she’ll get the hint. But I have a better chance of hoping for world peace because she then says, “But you did leave a mark on his chin. He looked busted, son of a fucking fucker whore.”