Hating the Rookie: Laketown Hockey Series

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Hating the Rookie: Laketown Hockey Series Page 2

by A. J. Wynter


  “You’ve got to work, right?”

  “I do.”

  “Too bad. Maybe one of these mornings you can come too,” Justin said. He turned his team hat backward as we picked up speed.

  “Maybe.” I mused.

  I had worked every day that summer. Between work and hockey camp, I barely had time to do anything else. Well, except party. And even though we were a team, there were three different kinds of Otters. The first, like me, grew up in Laketown and worked all summer. The second was the out of town guys who lived in the dorms at the hockey academy. Most of them worked too. The third, the kind who could meet at a fancy French restaurant for breakfast, were cottagers. Guys who were lucky enough to play hockey in the town where they had their lake homes. Everyone turned a blind eye to the obvious rigging that kept these players close to their million-dollar family vacation homes. Justin, Kane, and Tanner were all part of group three. And while they were great guys, none of them had had to work a day in their lives.

  “Where’s your car?” I looked at Justin. He had access to his father’s massive car collection and one day even showed up in a vintage Rolls Royce.

  “I brought the woody.” He pointed to the docks a few steps from The Crepe House where a sleek antique boat was moored.

  I brought the Jeep to a stop in front of the restaurant and idled while Justin pulled out his equipment.

  “Have a good one,” he shouted and jogged to toss the bag into his quarter-million-dollar boat.

  I waved and put the Jeep into first gear and headed out of town to Casper Cove Road.

  The clouds that had sat dormant on the horizon suddenly sprang to life and started rolling across the sky. As the first drops of rain fell heavily, I glanced in the rear-view mirror and couldn’t help but smile as I saw Justin bolt out of the Crepe House. My pleasure at Justin’s scramble was short-lived as I realized I was sitting in my topless Jeep. Serves you right, I muttered to myself. Justin was a good guy – he couldn’t help it that everything had been handed to him. And I wasn’t exactly hard done by. Growing up, my parents could always afford new hockey equipment, and my dad took time off work to travel to all of my away games. I was lucky compared to poor kids like Dylan Moss who had to fight for everything. The rain beating down on the brim of my hat reminded me to be grateful for everything that I had.

  I stomped my flip flop on the gas pedal and the Jeep splashed through the giant mud holes on Casper Cove Road. I had given up trying to stay dry and was enjoying the muddy trip down the dirt road. I was pretty sure that I had mud on my face, and I didn’t care.

  Through the heavy rainfall, I saw two red lights ahead. As I neared, I saw that it was the taillights of the Corbett’s little car glowing in the dull light. The tires were up to the rims in mud, and I steered around the ruts in the road behind the car. My daytime running lights flashed on Stan’s gray ponytail and he turned and waved.

  “Stuck?” I said.

  Stan raised his eyebrows. “Like my sandals at a folk concert.”

  It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. I didn’t know what the hell Stan was talking about. “Lucky enough I’ve got a winch.” I was stoked. The winch was a recent addition to the Jeep and this was going to be her virgin pull.

  “Perfect.” Stan grinned and patted me on the shoulder. My t-shirt squelched under his palm. “Did you forget your top somewhere?”

  “It’s in Cabin Three.” I laughed. Cabin Three was the worst of all the cabins, and over the summer it had slowly become my personal storage unit and flophouse for when I was too tired to go home.

  I pointed to the back of the car as I pulled out the hook. “Attach this to the towing ring.”

  Stan dutifully grabbed the hook from my hand and had to lie down in the mud to attach it. When he stood up, I tightened the cable. “I think you should still give it some gas when I start pulling it,” I shouted.

  “I’ll tell her.” Stan jogged to the driver’s side window.

  “Tell her?” It was only then that I realized that there was someone in the car.

  Stan spoke to the driver who put the car into reverse. While I operated the winch, I wondered who was in the driver’s seat. Stan’s wife, Bonnie, had broken her leg and even though she had recovered, could no longer operate a standard transmission.

  As the car inched free of its mud bog home, I strained to see who was driving. It was only when I saw the flash of strawberry blond hair that I knew. And I couldn’t believe it. First of all, I didn’t think I’d ever see her again. Secondly, I couldn’t believe that she would show her face in Laketown after what happened. What the hell was Brianna Corbett doing back home?

  Chapter 3 – Brianna

  MY EYES COULDN’T HELP but flicker to the rearview mirror every five seconds. The Jeep bumped along the road behind us, so close that I could see Brodie’s huge hands gripping the steering wheel, his face hidden within the shadows of the Jeep.

  When I stopped the mud-splattered car in front of my parents’ cabin, a strange woman with a pixie cut, let our Golden Retriever mix, Buddy, outside, and I wondered if mom and dad had hired a new housekeeper.

  “Buddy,” I squealed my voice a couple of octaves higher than usual. The yellow dog stamped his paws and arched his body, pressing his shoulders against my knees as I rubbed behind his ears.

  “Hi sweetie,” the pixie-haired woman said. She opened her arms wide and followed Buddy’s path to greet me.

  “Mom.” I furrowed my brow, trying to reconcile this woman with the memory I had of my mother. It had only been a year since I had seen her, but she seemed to have aged in dog years.

  Some things never change, like my mom’s butt length hair. From as far back as my memories could go, Bonnie Corbett could sit on her hair. Even though her face was now creased with wrinkles and there were age spots on her hands, when my mom wound her hair into two braids, she looked like a sparkly-eyed twenty-something who had just stepped off the bus at a John Lennon concert.

  Wrapped in her arms, I inhaled her patchouli scent and squeezed her back. My mom had never been overweight, but her hugs were always squishy and soft. Now, I could feel her ribs.

  I pulled back. “You cut your hair.”

  “Oh, this?” She touched her formerly blond, now mostly gray strands. “It’s so much easier.”

  “It looks nice.” I smiled. I wasn’t lying. “It suits your face.” My mom had the same green eyes like me, and I hoped that mine sparkled the way hers did when she smiled.

  “Thanks.” She looked over my shoulder. “What happened to the car?”

  I turned and followed her gaze to the mud-caked car. “We got stuck on the road.”

  “I told you we should get a load of gravel,” my mom shouted over my shoulder.

  Dad had taken my luggage from the trunk and was staggering to the covered porch, weighed down with the duffel bags. “I can get those.” I jogged to him and pulled one off his shoulder. He continued walking and set the heavier of the two bags on the worn floorboards. “It’s okay,” he huffed. “They’re here now.”

  I looked at mom and then to dad. “Here?” I pointed to the main cabin. “What happened to my cabin?”

  “We thought you might want to stay in the main cabin.” My dad’s voice was a little shaky. “With us,” he added.

  “But I always stay in Cabin Three.”

  They looked at each other. My dad rubbed his beard, “We’ve kind of turned that cabin into a storage unit.”

  I groaned. The main cabin had two bedrooms, but the second was tiny and the living room was filled with canning supplies and macrame plant holders overflowing with giant spider plants. “I was hoping to set up a little study space – Cabin Three is perfect for that.”

  “She could always stay in Cabin One.” My mom suggested. We don’t have any bookings yet.”

  While I loved the idea of staying in the best cabin, I wondered why Cabin One wasn’t booked. I looked around and wondered if I should be worried. It didn’t look like there were any
guests at Casper Cove Cabins at all.

  “Until it’s booked.” My dad raised his arms, knowing that it was going to be two against one. He delivered my bag back to the trunk of the car and brushed the mud from his hands after he slammed it shut.

  “That little car can do anything,” my mom laughed.

  “Actually, Brodie had to tow us out,” Dad shouted. “Come on, Princess Bree. I’ll deliver you to your castle.”

  Brodie. With the shock of seeing my mom, I had temporarily forgotten about that asshole. I glanced to my right and to my left, looking for any sign of his Jeep. The pathway to the guest cabins disappeared into the thick trees on the lake side of the main cabin. He could be anywhere on the property.

  When I agreed to come home and help for the summer, I knew the odds were high that I would run into the people that made my teenage years the worst years of my life. The idea of seeing any of them made me sick to my stomach, and the fact that one of the worst offenders was on the same property as I was made my guts churn.

  Dad navigated the car past cabins four to eight and then veered onto the trail that led to the water. That’s when I saw the Jeep. Parked in front of Cabin Three. A hammock had been installed on the porch and it was swinging lazily, bulging with its occupant. A lone arm hung out and scratched at Buddy’s ear.

  “How did Buddy beat us down here?” I asked under my breath.

  Dad laughed. “Buddy has an intricate trail system. He’s practically worn a freeway between the main cabin and Brodie’s...” his voice trailed out. “I mean, Cabin Three.”

  I took a deep breath. Not only had Brodie ruined my life, now he had stolen my cabin. I wondered if my face looked as red as it felt.

  “You gave my cabin to Brodie Bishop.” It wasn’t a question.

  Dad sighed. “He works long hours. He needs a place to crash sometimes.”

  “Well, now that I’m home, I guess he’s going to have to find another job.”

  My dad’s lips narrowed. “What do you mean?” We stopped at Cabin One and he put the car into park.

  “I’m here to help you. I thought that cash flow was an issue.” I didn’t add that I was free labor. Luckily, I had a scholarship and didn’t have to rely on a summer job to fund my education.

  “Oh, we’re fine.” My dad patted my knee. “With the two of you here, this place will be running tickety-boo in no time.”

  “I wish you would’ve told me,” I said. There was no point keeping it in. I was pissed.

  “Why? I thought that you and Brodie were friends.”

  I got out of the car and slammed the door shut. “We were friends when we were kids, dad. I haven’t spoken to the guy in years.” It had been the second semester of twelfth grade. May third to be precise.

  “He’s a good kid.” Dad grabbed one strap on my bag and together we hauled it to the porch and plopped it in front of the red door. “And he’s a good worker.”

  “Then you don’t need me here. I should’ve stayed at school.” I reached above the door and found the hidden key on the frame and let myself in.

  “Come on, Brianna. What’s the big deal?”

  I flicked on the lights. Cabin One looked exactly the same as I remembered it. A colorful rag rug my mom had made sat underneath the handmade log furniture my dad had made. I strained my eyes as the lights flickered.

  “The solar panels have been on the fritz,” Dad explained.

  The cabins had been a dream come true for my parents and they had stretched themselves to the limit to buy it. Casper Cove Cabins was a waterfront property where they could live out their hippie-dippie homesteading dreams.

  “They’ve been on the fritz for two years Dad,” I sighed.

  “They just have to last until the end of the summer. We’re installing a traditional system.”

  I raised my eyebrows at my father but didn’t ask any further questions. In my parents’ world, a traditional electrical system would be going backward.

  My dad shrugged and gave me the ‘it’s your mother’s decision’ look. “This cabin is rented for the last week of August, so make yourself at home until then.”

  “August? Dad, is everything okay?”

  Dad snatched the car keys from my hand. “Everything is fine honey. Your mom and I are so happy to have you home for the summer.” He gave me a squeeze and left, shutting the cabin door behind him.

  I turned the ceiling fans on high, hoping to cool the place down a little bit, and changed into my bathing suit. I filled the kettle from the water cooler and clicked on the propane burner. I leaned against the counter and wondered if I should be worried about my parents. A gnawing feeling in my gut told me that something was wrong, that behind their smiles and hugs, things weren’t great at Casper Cabins. The kettle’s whistle pierced the quiet, and I stole a teabag from the welcome package on the counter and popped it into one of the pottery mugs. I stared at the water while the teabag steeped, wishing that I was back in the comfort of my dorm room. My daydream was interrupted by a light knock on the door. I grabbed the mug and padded over to the door, kicking my Birkenstocks out of the way.

  “What did you forget?” I laughed as I whipped the door open, expecting to see my dad.

  His back was to the door. My instinct was to slam it and call him an asshole. But in the other order. Instead, I stood there, my brain frozen in a state where it didn’t know how to form words.

  Turning slowly, the Brodie Bishop that stood on my porch looked almost the same as the one that had abandoned and betrayed me. But this version was stockier and muscled like a full-grown man, not the boy I’d left behind. “I didn’t forget anything.” His voice was even thicker and deeper than I remembered.

  “I thought you were my dad.” I stepped back into the cabin and behind the door, its wooden slats a shield between my body and his. His brown eyes matched the chocolate color of his t-shirt. I could never forget the flecks of gold that glinted around his pupils.

  He took a step backward as well. “What are you doing here?”

  “Do you mean in Cabin One or Laketown?”

  Brodie raised his eyebrows at me. “I guess, both?”

  I wasn’t the Brianna he knew from two years ago. I stepped from behind the door and stood tall on the threshold. “I’m back in Laketown to help my parents with the cabins.” I was thankful that my voice sounded stronger coming out than it did inside my head. “And I’m in Cabin One because someone else has taken over Cabin Three. My cabin.”

  “Oh.” Brodie took another step back. “I didn’t know you were coming... home.”

  “And I didn’t know that you were working here.” It was harsh. Harsher than I had intended it to sound. I would’ve crossed my arms if it wasn’t for the hot mug of tea that I was holding.

  He was one of the best-looking guys I had ever seen in my life, but I could only see the boy that called me a disgusting sow and told me he hoped that I would die of gonorrhea poisoning.

  He left me freezing cold, stranded on an island before I could tell him that gonorrhea poisoning wasn’t even a thing. To me, Brodie was almost the ugliest human being in the world, second only to Troy Sneer. With the memory of Troy, I shivered, and goosebumps prickled my arms. I tried to hold my tongue, but the venom inside me needed to get out. “If I had known you were working here, I wouldn’t have come back.” I wanted it to sound mean.

  Any softness in Brodie’s face disappeared. His eyes flashed dark, the brown disappearing as he narrowed his eyes at me. “So, this is how we’re picking things back up, is it? Well, I wouldn’t have taken this job if I knew I’d have to be within ten feet of a...”

  “A what? Brodie?” I stepped toward him and he stepped back, his dirty hockey player sandal missing the next step.

  “Nothing...you.” He caught his balance and stood strong. “I wouldn’t have agreed to work here if I knew I’d have to be around you.” His lips curled into a snarl.

  I was about to tell him to quit when my dad’s voice startled the two of us, ending
our stand-off. “Brodie,” he shouted. “I need some help with the water line.”

  “I’ll help you dad.” I breezed past Brodie, close enough that he had to step out of my way.

  “Are you sure?” My dad looked at Brodie and then to me. Brodie shrugged and I was tempted to slap the smug smirk off his perfect angular face.

  “Yeah, Dad. I can do it.”

  “Alright, Bree.”

  Dad gestured for me to follow him.

  “Stan, do you want me to come too?” Brodie asked.

  “Sure, Brodes. The more hands the better.”

  I turned and scowled at Brodie and he shot me a smug smile. Then, he passed by me to walk beside my father. As I watched the two of them, I felt like an outsider. They laughed as they walked along one of Buddy’s bush trails. My dad held the branches as he passed so they wouldn’t whip me in the face, but on Brodie’s side, he let them fly. After eating a third maple leaf I squeezed between dad and Brodie to walk in front.

  This was going to be a very long summer.

  Chapter 4 – Brodie

  THE WATER LAPPED ON the granular sand beach. Our footsteps crunched heavily into the rain saturated sand. The sky was still gray and dreary, but Brianna’s mustard-colored sweatshirt stood out against the shades of gray. I wondered if her hair gotten redder since the last time I saw her.

  Growing up she’d been a carrot top – and up until high school everyone called her “Baby Carrot.”

  In high school, her hair lost its vibrancy, but today, as the sun broke free from behind the wall of gray, the red strands amongst the blond glinted like the copper wiring in the walls of Cabin Three.

  “See, it’s come to the surface.” Stan pointed to the black pipe that supplied Casper Cabins with its water. “I tried to secure it to the cinder block, but it’s just too deep out there for me.”

  I knew exactly what had to be done and peeled off my soaking wet t-shirt. “I’ll get it, Stan. Have you got a cable?”

  “I’ve got one right here.” Stan handed me the wire.

  “I said I’d do it.” Brianna snatched the cable from my hand and marched to the water’s edge.

 

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