“If my mother finds out I stole her car to pick up two drunk hockey players…” I shake my head and drive down Tyler’s street. “I don’t even want to know.”
Especially if Eomma knew I was in this neighborhood. I’d never let on to Tyler, but my heart is pounding like a drum in my chest. I hear the wail of a siren from a few streets over and say a silent prayer to myself.
“This one,” Tyler says, as I slowly drive past the houses. They’re nothing more than clapboard and brick. One streetlight flickers and dies. I pull over, but keep the engine running.
“We owe you one,” Tyler says as he gets out of the car. “Hey…don’t be too mad at Daniel about getting into another fight.” Tyler shrugs his shoulders. “He had his team’s back.”
“Duly noted, Evans.” I smile, and he closes the door. I glance back at Daniel, who’s almost passed out in the backseat of the car, his dark hair mussed against the window.
The truth is, I wouldn’t have bugged Daniel about the fight, even if Tyler hadn’t said anything. Because I know that Daniel doesn’t get into fights without a reason. Daniel can take a hit, but he won’t let one slide against a teammate.
Even after our argument this evening, I knew exactly what I had to do when I got the text from Tyler. Of course, I’d take Daniel home.
I guess I can take a hit, too. After all, he was pretty mad at me about the whole fake girlfriend suggestion. Jeez, I didn’t realize just the mere idea of committing to me was so repulsive to him.
Why am I so pathetic?
“You alive back there, number 77?” I glance over my shoulder as I speed through the streets, eager to get out of this neighborhood.
He mumbles something incoherent. I’ve seen Daniel drunk more times than I can count. I’ve seen him bouncing off the walls of the car singing to Taylor Swift on the radio, barfing up his intestines in a ditch on the side of the road, and so flirty that I’ve been tempted to kiss him because I know he won’t remember.
But I’ve never seen him like this.
It’s as if a Dementor has flown in and sucked all the happiness out of him, or he’s just watched the ending of Titanic. I made him watch it with me once, and even he couldn’t hide his tears.
By the time I pull up in front of Daniel’s townhouse, I know he’s not going to make it in on his own. I get out of my car and open his door.
I’m sure it’s comical to look at—me, only 5 foot 2, trying to get this 6 foot 3, 200 pound hockey player up the stairs. Somehow, I’m able to encourage him to lift his feet, but I keep a tight grip on his waist and arm.
He slumps over the railing and I dig around in his pockets until I find his keys and open the latch to the front door. Immediately, I’m hit with the warmest aroma of a thousand different spices swirling together. I fumble for the light switch and a warm glow dusts over his living room.
Family portraits fill every inch of the wall and the plush couch has patches on it. I’ve sat there plenty of times and can definitely vouch that it’s the comfiest couch ever. And that’s exactly where I’m going to dump him. He takes a few more awkward steps before I lower him down to the sofa. He sinks into it in a way he never would have in my parent’s pristine leather couches.
He blinks a couple times at me. “Madison?”
“Yep, it’s me.”
He lets out a groan and puts his hands over his face. “Shit.”
I let out an annoyed breath. “I’m happy to see you too, Daniel.” I scan his body, from the bloody face to the scratched-up knuckles. As much as he deserves for me to leave him here, I’m sure Coach Z would kill me if I let one of his Falcons get an infection from a dirty wound.
So I make my way to the bathroom and check the cabinet for a first aid kit. It’s not there, so I check under the sink, and finally find it behind various shampoo containers. Daniel and his mom have a lot of stuff, and I’m not just talking about all the styling gel Daniel uses on his hair. Every corner of their house is crammed with knickknacks, memorabilia, hockey trophies, and even Daniel’s old toys. My parents would call it a cluttered mess verging on hoarding. I call it sweet. Maybe if my parents had kept even a couple things from my childhood, I’d remember if it was a bear or a giraffe I used to carry around.
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. It would just be kind of nice to know.
I toss the first aid kit beside Daniel and grab a wet cloth, a glass of water, and two aspirins for him from the kitchen. I hand him the water and medicine, and he finally becomes a little more coherent.
“You don’t have to do this,” he mumbles.
I sit on the couch beside him and press the wet cloth to his hands. “I know.”
“I don’t deserve…” I place the wet cloth to his face, and he takes it from me, wiping the blood from his lip.
“Tyler said you were standing up for him.”
Daniel looks away. “I guess. All those rich guys…they don’t get it.”
I motion for him to give me his hands. Every time I touch them, I’m always surprised by how rough they are. But he is a hockey player, after all. I take some antiseptic cream and smooth it over his knuckles.
“It’s like that in Eldonia,” he murmurs. “Guys like Tyler, guys like me…we don’t fit in.”
Figuring he’s in this state, he must have been thinking about Eldonia all night. Maybe that’s why I’m risking my parents’ wrath to be here with him. I shouldn’t have tried to convince him to go, not for some audition. Okay, it wasn’t just some audition—it’s the best audition EVER—but that’s not the point.
It should be his choice.
“I’m sorry for what I said before,” I say. “I know this whole thing is crazy. I just want to help.”
He turns over, facing the back of the couch. “I know.”
“You’re my best friend,” I say, picking at a thread on a throw pillow. “And I think you’re fine just the way you are…scrapes and all.”
He grunts.
“What?” But he doesn’t answer, just turns more towards the back of the couch. “You should get some sleep, Daniel.”
He grunts again, but this time at least, I can make out what he’s saying. “My bed.”
I heave him up again and we make our way to Daniel’s room. It’s familiar. Comfortable. How many nights have I spent here, watching movies on his laptop or cramming for exams? Silence is overrated. I’m much more productive with his comforting presence, even when he’s got a hockey game blaring in the background or his mom’s checking on us every twenty minutes to see if we’re hungry.
Daniel strips down to his boxers, and my face turns pink. You’d think I’d be used to seeing him like this, considering I’ve bandaged him up and taken his vitals so many times in the trainer’s office. But there’s something about Daniel that has my knees buckling every time. I stare at him, soaking in his tanned skin, swoopy black hair, and those long lean muscles that always make me dissolve into a puddle.
He turns around, his eyes faraway, and face concerned, as if he’s just forgotten what he was doing. “M-Mads?”
“Still me. Bedtime now.” I push on that rock-hard chest and he falls to his bed, but he grabs my waist and pulls me down with him. I plop down on top of him, chest to chest. My face is so close, I can feel his breath on my lips.
He laughs, and his gaze has gone from cloudy to focused as he looks at me. “I don’t want to sleep.”
I inhale. Being here, this close to him, is something I’ve wanted for so long now. And it would be so easy just to lean down and place my lips on his…
But the whiff of beer on his breath is enough to remind me that if I tried anything, I’d be just another drunk hook-up to him.
“Daniel,” I whisper.
“Madison.” His brown eyes narrow. “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
I was so not expecting that. At all. My breath shudders, and my eyes go wide. I wonder if he can feel my heart against his chest.
Then my brain catches up. His girlfriend…his fake girl
friend, he means. Like I suggested earlier. “Like in Eldonia? You changed your mind?”
His hand moves up slightly, almost as if he’s reaching for my face. “I wish.”
Then his arm drops and he’s out.
Like out cold. I even give his cheek a little slap. “Daniel?”
He’s totally unresponsive. “Dumb hockey player,” I sigh, and hate the wistful tone in my voice, as well as the fact that I’m still on top of him. Pathetic. Of course, he was talking about my plan. I get up and straighten my shirt, then take one last glance back at him. He looks so young, lying there with his hair mussed and his chest rising up and down.
I can’t keep torturing myself like this. I head back into the living room just as the front door opens.
Daniel’s mom walks in, still in her scrubs from her shift at the hospital. If she was any other mom, this might be one of the most awkward moments of my life. But Maria is totally chill. Besides, she knows exactly what Daniel and I are to each other.
Not that she would be uncool if we were more than friends. Maria’s not like my parents at all. She wouldn’t get mad at Daniel for having a girl over, as long as he was being safe. A part of me wonders what it’d be like to grow up like that.
“Hi Maria.” I wave. “Just tucking Daniel into bed.”
“You’re leaving?” she says, like it’s a question.
Why would I stay? That’d be weird, considering Daniel and I are just friends. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh, nothing.” She smiles. “Madison, before you go, I want you to take something. Daniel made too much supper the other night. The two of us will never be able to eat it all.” Maria quickly darts into the kitchen and comes back out with a yogurt container.
I know it’s not yogurt, and when I pop open the top, I see round meatballs, thick noodles, and red chunky sauce. Daniel Sacachelli’s signature spaghetti. Maybe tonight isn’t a total loss after all.
This will be the perfect bedtime snack while watching Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhamel fall in love tonight on TV, in Life as We Know It. Nothing like drowning your sorrows in spaghetti sauce and a rom-com.
Before I dart out the door, I notice that I left the first aid kit on the couch. I walk over to grab it and put it away.
“Another fight?” Maria follows my movements and raises a brow. “He should pay you overtime for that.”
I give her a weak smile. “What can I say? They don’t call me the most committed trainer on the Falcons for nothing.”
“And do you do house calls for all your players?” she asks coyly.
I drop a roll of gauze back into the first aid kit. “Uh…well, Daniel’s…”
“You don’t have to tell me Danny’s special.” Maria comes over and helps me clean up the rest of the contents. “And I know you’re special to him.”
I lose my grip on a pack of Band-Aids and it falls to the floor. I scramble to pick the loose bandages up. Special to Daniel. He made it clear to me tonight the only thing I’m special at is being his personal Uber driver. And his nurse. But the way he had looked at me, when he’d pulled me on his chest… What had he meant when he said, ‘I wish’?
I shake my head and stand. “Well, Daniel needs a lot of help.” I try to say it like a joke, but it doesn’t come out right. “And,” I whisper and look down, “I’ll always be here for him.”
…
Daniel
When I wake up, the sun is streaming through my bedroom window and my head feels like it’s going to burst. My whole body aches. A promising start to summer vacation.
Then my memory kicks in and all of yesterday comes back in flashes. Between Eva’s visit and the fight last night, I can say it was probably one of the worst days of my life. An image of Madison flashes in my mind, and I run a hand through my hair. Was she here?
I really need to sort my shit out.
I try and straighten out my hangover in a hot shower then get dressed and head into the living room. Ma’s sitting at the table, thumbing through a cooking magazine.
“Danny.” Ma’s eyes flick up to me. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” I walk into the living room and I’m suddenly embraced by the comfort of it all, the warm wood walls, the soft buttery lights, and the smell of not one particular dish cooking, but thousands of Ma’s homemade meals.
Framed pictures line the walls—Ma and me, Nonna and Nonno, all my cousins, aunts and uncles. Shelves overflow with candles, all my Legos from when I was a kid, the paperback romance novels Ma loves, her crystal duck collection. I don’t need a castle with priceless works of art. Everything I need is right here, in this living room.
I plop down on the chair beside her and Ma grabs my chin. She grazes a thumb over my split lip and I flinch. “At least you didn’t break your nose again,” she says.
Ma may be short and slim, but she has a personality big enough to make up for it in spades. With wavy brown hair, dark eyes, and the brightest smile I’ve ever seen, I think my ma is the most beautiful woman in the world. “Have you eaten lunch? Probably nothing but toxic waste in your stomach. There’s some leftover chicken parmesan in the fridge.”
I think of my uneaten burger at Ms. Sue’s last night and my stomach rumbles. I hadn’t had anything to eat at the party, either.
I walk into the kitchen and open the fridge, staring at all the ricotta cheese and butter containers trying to decipher which one might hold the leftovers. Ma budges me out of the way, and proceeds to prepare lunch for me.
It’s always just been me and Ma. Whenever my friends would ask about my dad, I told them he did something important and I didn’t see him much. Since everyone in Chicago had seen The Godfather, most of the guys just assumed he worked for the mafia, and I was happy to leave it at that.
I fall into the chair at the kitchen table and watch Ma. Everything I’d have to give up to be King of Eldonia starts playing across my mind. Hockey is right at the forefront. I can’t help it, because it’s not just hockey, it’s the guys, my best friends, even Madison. They’re all a part of the Falcons’ world. But I’d also have to give up this—me and Ma. I already know she’d never want to come to Eldonia with me. Never in my seventeen years has she ever mentioned coming with me for the summer. Maybe she’d visit, but I’d never have a home with her again. As soon as that big ugly crown falls on my head, everything that makes up me—my hopes, my dreams, my family—will vanish.
She places a heaping plate of chicken parmesan in front of me and I think: They don’t serve food like this in Eldonia.
And there it is. That does it. That damn chicken parmesan. My whole body breaks down. I break down. Tears escape my eyes, and I gasp for breath, my chest heaving in and out. Ma drops her spoon and sweeps into a chair next to me, her arms wrapping around my shoulders. I’m so much bigger than her now, but she’s never lost the ability to hold me.
I try to gain control of my breathing, but it only makes my chest heave harder. My plate is a blur from my wet eyes. My fork shakes in my hand.
Ma’s hands smooth my hair, and her soft voice whispers, “Oh, Daniel.” Her hands wipe the tears from my face. She’s so much younger than all my friends’ mothers. And she moved to Chicago for me, for my hockey, away from Nonna and Nonno in Long Island. How can I put this on her?
“Tell me what’s the matter,” she says, “and eat.”
Shakily, I stab my fork into the chicken. I tell her everything—not being able to ask Madison out, Eva coming, her arranged marriage, and even about Madison’s plan to try and make me seem presentable. My bad reputation isn’t a secret, even to my ma.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I say. “Everyone is expecting me to be someone I’m not. And if I did go, Ma, what would you think of me?”
Ma narrows her eyes and places a hand on my shoulder. “I love you, Daniel. I always will. I love you when you make me your spaghetti and take me out to the movies. I love you when you leave your bag at the front door where I could trip over it and die, and I even loved you wh
en you broke Great-Nonna’s urn and replaced her ashes with soot from the fire.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“And,” Ma continues, “then there is the love that shines brightest of all. When I see you down on the ice, I see that bright fire in you and my own love grows to see you so happy. So I love you as a Falcon. And I will love you as a king. But make sure that light stays in you.”
“You’ve given up everything for me,” I say.
When I had a chance to play hockey for the Falcons, Ma didn’t hesitate to pack up our house on Long Island and move us all the way here. She left her friends, her family, everyone she knew so I could have this chance at my dreams. If I go to Eldonia, won’t all of that have been for nothing?
“I can’t ever repay you for what you’ve done,” I say, and when I close my eyes, another tear escapes.
“You don’t have to.” Her hand is warm on my cheek. “Just make your own choices, with your heart. That’s all I want for you.”
I look at her, and try to think about how it might feel to love someone so unconditionally. To feel your own heart grow when they succeed, when they’re happy. And then I think of her words: Just make your own choices. Eva’s face flashes in my mind. She’s not free to make any decisions about her own life.
“I know what I have to do,” I say. “You’ve taught me how important family is, how important love is. I can’t let Eva marry that man, not when I can save her from it. Ma, I have to do what’s best for my sister.”
She nods, and a tear slips from her eye, too. When she pulls me in for a hug, I don’t feel the same sense of desperation I did earlier. My mother’s love for me is bright and bold. I can only hope it’s enough to carry me through whatever I’d encounter once I got to Eldonia.
…
I sit against my headboard and stare at my phone. I’ve called Madison a hundred times. But no call has ever felt as important as this. I dial her number and wait for the inevitable.
“Hello?”
“Madison.”
“Hey, Daniel,” she says. I hear a crowd of people in the back. Right, she has theater practice today.
“Thanks for picking me up last night,” I mumble. “Ma said you fixed me up.”
Just One of the Royals Page 5