Victor (Chicago Blaze 3)

Me: You can come to home games anytime. Just let me know and I’ll set it up.

Lindy: Really??

Me: Absolutely. I take care of my friends.

Lindy: Wow. That’s really nice, thanks.

Me: So if you were to go somewhere on a plane, where would you want to go?

Lindy: Oh wow…I’ve never even thought about it. Florida would be nice.

Me: Florida? Not Paris? Bali? Shanghai?

Lindy: Me? God no, I only speak English. I’d starve to death in another country.

Me: Okay, an English-speaking place maybe…

Lindy: I wouldn’t even know what to do!

Me: Relax and eat and sightsee…vacation stuff.

Lindy: I’ve never been on a vacation.

Me: Really?

Lindy: Really.

Another text hits my phone then.

Mom: Hi Vic, how are you? You’ve been playing so great lately, I’m such a proud mom!

I cringe, getting a sour taste in my mouth. My light mood vanishes. My mom’s always been able to accomplish that. I text Lindy back first because I want to end our conversation on a good note.

Me: Gotta go. Text me later if you want.

Lindy: Okay, bye.

I lean back against my seat, exhaling hard. I’d like to ignore my mom, but she won’t go away. I’ve been dealing with her shit since the moment the salary from my first NHL contract went public.

Me: Hi mom, how much do you want?

Mom: Are you trying to say I only talk to you when I need money?

She literally only contacts me when she wants money. I’m not pretending otherwise.

Me: You don’t want money, then?

Mom: The roof on the house I’m renting is leaking and the landlord won’t fix it. I need to get into a new place. I’ll pay you back.

She never pays me back. Not that it matters. I’ve got more than enough money to cover the small amounts she hits me up for. But it would be really fucking nice to have a parent—just one—who actually cared about me.

Me: How much?

Mom: $2500 would cover it.

Me: I’ll have my accountant call and set it up.

Mom: Great!

That’s the end of our conversation. This is nothing new, but at least she can’t disappoint me anymore. My dad took off before I was born, and my mom raised me on her own, if you can even call it that. She was gone a lot, and when she was home, she was usually partying. There was a constant stream of men in and out of our apartment.

My own mother once wondered out loud why she had me, since she usually just got abortions when she was pregnant. I couldn’t wait to grow up and get the hell out of there. Playing hockey was the only time I felt like a normal kid.

But no matter how far I am from my mother, both physically and emotionally, there’s still a little boy inside me who wants his mom to love him. To be interested in him. Staring out the window of the plane, I let the melancholy set in. It still hurts when my mom contacts me to just ask for money, even though it happens every few months.

Tonight, though, I’ll need a clear head. I have to keep proving my worth as a first linesman. Hell, I’ve been trying to prove my worth to someone or another for my entire life. And I’m always either completely failing or just hanging on by a thread.* * *Seattle’s arena is gorgeous—it’s one of my favorites to play in. Our pregame skate clears my head and I hang out with Anton and Luca while we eat lunch.

Right before game time, I settle into a quiet corner of the locker room and listen to my pregame playlist. I’ve got my eyes closed and my headphones on so I can focus on finding the headspace I need to be in tonight. Someone shakes my shoulder gently and I look up.

It’s Anton. His expression is sober. I pull my headphones out as he crouches down to look me in the eye.

“Hey.” His voice is almost a whisper. “Jonah just got terrible news. Lily collapsed at her parents’ house this morning. They aren’t sure what happened yet, but…she’s gone.”

“She died?” My blood runs cold. “Holy shit.”

Anton nods. “It’s a bad fuckin’ deal. Jonah’s in the training room right now talking to Lily’s mom on the phone.”

I scrub my hands up and down my face. “Fuck. I’m just…we just saw her the other night. She was fine.”

“Yeah. Mia’s gonna be devastated.”

I sit back against the wall, feeling like someone just punched me in the gut. “I better tell Lindy before it hits the news.”

“Yeah, you should. Jonah’s out for a while, obviously. So we’re gonna have to help Baxter out by being extra sharp on offense.”

I think I agree, but I’m not really paying attention. I can’t think about hockey now. My teammates are like brothers to me—they’re the only ones who’ve ever given a fuck about me. And Jonah’s so in love with Lily.