Center Ice (Entangled Crush) (Corrigan Falls Raiders)

by Cameron, Cate

  I was kind of in shock. Miranda had been cold up to now, but she’d never been vicious. Then I remembered the overheard conversation in the drug store and realized that maybe Miranda had been attacking me all along, but she’d been doing it behind my back. “The example your father’s setting, you mean?” I suppose it was sinking to her level, but screw it; I was ready to sink. “’Cause from what I’ve heard, he’s the big slut around here. At least my mother wasn’t cheating on a pregnant wife when she went slumming.”

  I saw Natalie’s face and felt a little bit guilty, but if she didn’t want to hear the truth spoken out loud, she should have kept a muzzle on her daughter. “I’m going to get changed,” I said. The grandparents seemed shocked, Natalie looked ill, and both of the twins clearly wanted me dead. Just as I yanked the front door open, I heard a new car pull into the driveway and turned around to see Will’s smile fading as he saw the expressions of the gathered crowd. Yeah. Welcome home, daddy. We sure did miss you.

  I resisted the urge to play my mom’s phone message. Instead, I stayed in the shower for longer than was justifiable, then spent quite a while combing through the tangles in my hair and getting dressed. A sundress and a sweatshirt shouldn’t take all that long to put on. I even used mascara and lip gloss and thought about investing in more makeup. It might be nice to have some sort of mask between me and the rest of the world.

  At least most of the rest of the world.

  The afternoon with Tyler had been an exception: even though I really wanted him to find me attractive, I didn’t want to wear a mask with him. I’d felt like maybe, just maybe, he’d be happier to see me as I actually was.

  I spent about thirty seconds thinking about Miranda’s wild accusations. Tyler’s sex-wagon? Seriously? There had been so many chances for him to be sleazy, or even flirty, but he hadn’t taken any of them. Maybe living with her dad had made Miranda unable to see any men without thinking they were sluts.

  The knock on my bedroom door wasn’t exactly surprising, but I wasn’t sure who I would find when I opened it. I definitely wasn’t expecting Sara, and the retorts I’d come up with didn’t make sense when I was dealing with an innocent fourteen-year-old. Well played, whoever sent her.

  “Hi,” she said tentatively. “Can I come in?”

  I couldn’t think of a way to say no, so I stepped aside and she eased past me, stopping awkwardly in the middle of the room. She turned all the way around, then said, “Everything still looks the same. I thought you’d have changed it, maybe. Put up posters or something.” She looked at me quickly, then looked away as she said, “If you want to paint, I can help. Mom always hires painters, but I helped paint Becky Robinson’s bedroom and it wasn’t that hard.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here for, so we should probably just leave it the way your mom likes it.”

  She frowned and sat down on the corner of my bed. “You’re here for the school year at least, aren’t you? I mean, maybe you’ll go away to university next fall, but you’re here for the year? That’s what mom and dad said.”

  I shrugged. “Hard to be sure.”

  Sara nodded but didn’t say anything. She also didn’t get up to leave. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing or saying, but she was obviously expecting something more. Finally she sighed and flopped dramatically backward, the comforter fluffing up around her outstretched arms. “You don’t like us, do you?”

  “You seem nice,” I tried.

  “But the rest of the family? And Corrigan Falls? Do you like the town, even?”

  “I just got here, Sara. I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

  “It’ll be better once school starts,” she said, like she was trying to cheer me up. “You can make friends with people and they’ll show you around.” Another one of her quick looks, like she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to say to me. “I could do that, too, but I guess you probably aren’t too interested in hanging out with a kid.”

  “A kid? I thought you were fourteen?”

  “Yeah…”

  “Fourteen isn’t a kid. You’re in high school this year, right?”

  “Yeah.” She didn’t seem too happy about the direction the conversation was taking. Maybe she didn’t want to be the one in charge of introducing the pariah around town. Luckily for her, we heard the sounds of someone coming down the basement steps, and we both turned our heads to see my father—our father—appear in the doorway.

  “Hey, guys,” he said. He seemed surprised to see Sara down there. “Uh…Miranda and Matt are going out for pizza, but Mom and I” —he caught himself— “Natalie and I…we’ve got dinner ready.”

  Sara stood up quickly. “Excellent. I’m starving.”

  She wasn’t the only one, but I wasn’t looking forward to spending another strained half-hour at that dining room table, staring at my food and trying to ignore all the secret messages and meaningful looks whizzing around the room. And things only got worse when Will said, “Actually, Sara, the twins thought you might like to go with them.”

  Sara froze, then turned her head toward Will. “Me and Karen?” she said with a meaningful glare. “All the kids?”

  God, it was sad to see a grown man squirm like a little boy. “Well, no. Natalie and I thought it might be a good time for us to talk to Karen.”

  “I’ll stay here,” Sara decided. “Half your kids one place, the other half somewhere else.”

  I really wanted to hug her. I mean, I wasn’t looking forward to having her as an audience for whatever Natalie and Will had planned for me, but I appreciated her efforts to do the right thing. Judging by the expression on his face, Will did not share my sentiments. “But pizza’s your favorite. Matt and Miranda picked it just for you.”

  “They can bring me back a slice,” Sara said.

  “Sara.” A new voice from the doorway, and Natalie frowned as she stepped into the room. “You’ll go to dinner with Matt and Miranda. Your dad and I need to talk to Karen.”

  “Mom—” Sara started, but Natalie raised an eyebrow and Sara fell silent. It was impressive, really. I wondered if she trained her family with those shock collars for dogs, giving them a zap every time they had a thought of their own. The kid turned to me and apologetically said, “I’ll come see you when I get back?”

  “If I’m still here,” I said sweetly.

  She gave me a little frown, glowered at each of her parents in turn, and stalked out of the room.

  Natalie smiled brightly. “Chicken enchiladas. They’re probably getting a bit cold, but we can heat them if we need to. Let’s go!”

  She made it sound like we were heading to summer camp, not walking down death row. But I guess death row isn’t all that big of a deal, for the guards.

  I trudged along behind them, contemplating escape but drawn by the mouth-watering aromas coming from the dining room. I could eat, and pretend to listen, and it’d all be over with soon enough.

  We sat in our accustomed seats, Natalie decided the food was hot enough to eat as is, and we dug in. Nobody talked for a while, which was great, but finally Natalie said, “So, Karen. That was a bit of a scene this afternoon.”

  “Yes, it was.” I’d fantasized about playing it this way when I was in the shower, but I couldn’t believe I actually had the nerve to do it in real life. “It was quite upsetting for me. I think it’s important that I have a stable home environment at this stage of my development, and I’d like to make sure nothing like that happens again. If you can assure me that Miranda’s behavior will be under better control, I may be able to accept that. But, otherwise, I think you should seriously consider boarding school. I know it’s late in the year, but I’m sure there’s still somewhere that would accept her.”

  They both stared at me, and then Will took a long drink of water.

  “That’s not an option we’re considering,” Natalie finally said. “For either of you.”

  “Me? Why on earth would you consider banishing me from this happy fami
ly home?”

  “Karen,” Natalie said with a sigh, “Give it a rest. You and Miranda had a fight. She started it, but you didn’t have to join in.”

  And that was it for the little game. “Your bitch of a daughter called my mother a slut, and you think I should have backed down? Seriously?”

  “Let’s take it easy on the name calling,” she replied. “You need to understand that this is a difficult adjustment for all of us, not just for you.”

  “Then why the hell are we doing it? I mean, there are options. If not boarding school, then maybe I should just go back to the city and stay with friends or get an apartment or something. I’m sixteen, not six. This adjustment is totally unnecessary, for all of us.”

  “We’re your family,” Natalie said firmly. “We should have gotten to know you earlier, but we can’t go back in time and change that. What we can change is the present and the future. We need to get to know each other and figure out how to get along, and we can’t do that if you’re living three hours away from the rest of us.” She took a sip of her water, then nodded firmly as if she’d re-convinced herself of her own wisdom. “This is an opportunity. There will be challenges, but nothing we can’t overcome. We just need to have a clearer set of expectations for everybody.”

  “Expectations?” I cocked my head at her. “Okay, here’s one: if your bitch of a daughter calls my mother a slut again, she can absolutely expect me to beat the shit out of her.”

  “Let’s settle down a little,” Will started, but he stopped talking when I whirled to face him.

  “And maybe you could help me out with another area of expectation. From what I’m hearing, you haven’t exactly changed your ways on the cheating front. So, just so we all know: should we expect to see any more extra kids rolling into the house, or did you at least learn your lesson about birth control?” It felt good to see his expression change, and the furtive look he sent in Natalie’s direction was as clear an admission of guilt as I’d ever seen. I couldn’t decide whether to be disgusted by him or kind of satisfied at being right.

  “Karen, leave the table, please.” Natalie’s voice was tightly controlled. “Go to your room and stay there until you’re able to have a civil conversation.”

  I stood up so fast my chair almost fell over. “Sure, fine. Why don’t you two let me know when you’re ready to have a conversation, one that’s based on honesty instead of trying to pretend everything’s okay. How’s that sound?”

  I stormed out through the kitchen, but on my way to the stairs I saw the back door and couldn’t resist. So I took my chance to escape, letting the door slam behind me as I headed around to the sidewalk in front of the house. I stood there, trying to decide which way to start walking, until I realized that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter which direction I chose, because there was no destination in mind. I had absolutely nowhere to go.

  A set of headlights appeared at the corner and turned down the street toward me. I had a quick flash of hope, so strong that I actually believed. The lights came closer and I saw that they were on a pickup truck, and I brushed the tears out of my eyes so Tyler wouldn’t see them when he pulled over and asked if I needed a ride. I took half a step forward, heading for the curb, and the truck got closer and then it drove right on by, and I saw some middle-aged man in the driver’s seat, staring at the road ahead as if I didn’t even exist.

  I was so stupid. Right after my mother’s car crash, I’d go visit her in the hospital and every time I opened the door to her room I’d truly expect her to be sitting up in bed, looking a bit beat up, maybe, but smiling at me and gesturing for me to come over so I could lay my head on her lap and she could comb through my hair with her long, slender fingers. “I’m sorry I scared you,” she’d say, and I’d cry but tell her that it wasn’t her fault.

  Every time I’d walked into her room and seen her still lying there unconscious, I’d felt the same sick twisting in my stomach that I was feeling there on the sidewalk watching the tail lights disappear around the next corner. My mom was gone. Tyler wasn’t going to rescue me. I had nowhere to go, and no one who cared. I started walking, but I didn’t hurry.

  There was absolutely no reason to.

  Chapter Six

  - Tyler -

  My billet family was nice enough, but there were only two reasons that anyone allowed an unrelated teenage boy to live in their homes for ten months of the year: they either needed the money, or they were big hockey fans. The Cavalis were fans, and it got a bit tiring.

  “So how was practice today?” It had been Rob Cavali, the father, who asked, but every head in the room swiveled to wait for my answer. I had it on good authority that the family only had dinner together when they had a hockey player to interrogate; over the summer or when the team was out of town, they grabbed meals whenever it was convenient. But with me there, it was a different story.

  “Pretty good,” I said. I knew from experience that this wasn’t going to be nearly enough for them, so I added, “The rookies are still working really hard, trying to earn their spots. And the rest of the team came back strong and fit.”

  “So you’re going to beat Peterborough, then? On Sunday?” Little Robbie was a true believer, his face glowing like he was having a conversation with God. No pressure, of course. Lots of fun to come home to this house after we lost a game.

  “Sunday’s just an exhibition,” Robbie’s sister Christina said with all the scorn she could muster. “It’s for trying out new players, not winning.” Christina was thirteen and starting to be a bit of a nuisance, her interest shifting from the hockey itself to the guys underneath the uniforms. If the Cavalis kept billeting players after she got her braces off, they’d be asking for trouble.

  The rest of the meal, as usual, was an interrogation, and I wasn’t sorry to escape to my room with the excuse that I had to watch game films. I turned on my laptop and hit “play”, but then I flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. I knew it was coming, so I just waited for it, and sure enough, my cell phone played the distinctive tone that always made me want to smash it against the wall.

  I picked the phone up and said, “Hey, Dad.”

  “Tyler. You’re at home, right? Your truck’s here.”

  It was great, being stalked by my own father. “Yeah, I’m at home.”

  “Come outside. I want to talk to you.”

  Of course he did. I hung up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, then just sat there for a few seconds before heaving myself to my feet and heading for the door. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

  I got outside and looked around for my dad’s beat up Toyota but didn’t see it. That was when a bulky-looking SUV flashed its lights at me and I peered through the darkness to see my father sitting behind the wheel.

  I crossed the street and cautiously eased into the passenger seat, and we pulled out into the street. I sniffed at the new car smell and ran my hands over the leather seats, just waiting. My dad liked to be driving when we had these conversations; it gave him an excuse to not look at his disappointment of a son.

  “Your coach is living in the past,” he said firmly. “First off, you don’t need that much endurance to play hockey; it’s a game of sprints, not a marathon. Running is just a way to get injured, with no payoff. And second, if you are going to run, you need to do it somewhere public. The treadmill would be best and safest, but if you need to be outside you should run around the parking lot at the arena, or something. Somewhere people can see how hard you’re working.”

  “Coach said not to change my training.” I sounded like a little kid, almost whining, and I hated it.

  “Me and Brett say differently.” There was something in the way he said my agent’s name that made the back of my neck itch.

  “Where’s the Toyota, Dad? Where’d you get this from?”

  He shook his head impatiently. “The Toyota’s dead. This is a loaner.”

  “Loaned from who?” My dad was an unemployed drywaller. He
didn’t have friends who had brand-new SUVs lying around waiting to be borrowed.

  “From Brett. From the guy who’s actually looking out for you and your family.”

  “He loaned you an SUV?”

  “Loaned, leased…whatever. He saw that I was driving a piece of shit, and he did something about it.”

  I tried not to react. It was none of my business, and there was nothing I could do about it, anyway. But I could practically hear one more chain wrapping around me and being locked tight, attaching me to an agent, a career, a life…

  “He said he’d asked you about wheels, and you said you were all set.” My dad still didn’t look at me, but I could see him snarling in disgust. “Why the hell wouldn’t you go for an upgrade?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my truck.”

  “There’s plenty wrong with that truck.”

  “I only have one parking spot.”

  “Jesus, Tyler, you’d throw out the goddamn truck! Do you really think you’re going to be cruising around in that piece of crap when you’re in the NHL?”

  There was no point in having the fight. I’d said it all before. What if I wasn’t good enough to make the NHL? That question just showed that I was weak-willed and not devoted enough to my game. What if I was good enough but got injured? I was being a pessimist, talking like an old man. Of course I wasn’t going to get injured. There was one question I’d never dared to ask, though: What if I didn’t want to play in the NHL?

  “You’re a strange kid, Tyler.” He sounded defeated, as if he’d made every effort to understand my twisted mind but just couldn’t manage it. “But it makes more sense for me to have it, anyway. I have to drive back and forth a lot.”

  Again, there was an argument that I didn’t bother even starting. Because he didn’t have to drive back and forth. Most parents tried to come by for the big games, or at least came to watch when the team was at an away game near their homes, but there were plenty of guys whose parents hardly ever showed up. My dad was one of the few who made it to every home game and most of the away games; he’d tried to convince the coach to let him ride on the team bus last year, but thankfully that hadn’t worked out. It was convenient for my dad that he was unemployed, I guess; there’s no way he could have held a job down anyway, and I was pretty sure hockey would always come first with him.