the choice • charlie conway

chapter fifteen

charlie

When I wake up Monday morning, it takes a minute to register that I'm still at home, not to mention ridiculously late for school.

I throw on a shirt and rush into the living room, only to find out that my mom has left for work. I immediately call her and when her voice comes through the phone, I won't lie and say I'm not a bit annoyed with how cheery she sounds. "Hi my boy! You're finally up!"

"Mom, why didn't you wake me? I'm late and I have a huge test today."

"When I came home from my shift last night, you were passed out. I thought you could use the sleep, especially after both of your practices yesterday."

After hearing that, my anger at her starts to fade. She is just looking out for me. "I appreciate it mom, really. But I need to get to school. Can you come get me?"

"Give me a second." she says into the phone. After a few seconds, she comes back. "Yeah, it's slow enough where I can leave for a bit. Get your stuff ready, I'll see you in ten."

As soon as she hangs up the phone, I grab my bags and set them by the door. I double check to make sure I have everything I need, and there's this small voice in my head that's telling me I'm forgetting something.

I check again just to be safe, and I have everything I need. My backpack has my binders, folders, homework, lunch, computer, and headphones, and my hockey bag has all of my gear. What could I possibly be forgetting?

After checking my bags for probably the fifth or sixth time, I hear my mom honk from the street down below. I throw my bags over my shoulders and rush outside to the car.

This day is already off to a bad start.

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I make it to school just as fourth period is starting. Once my hockey gear is in the locker room, I practically sprint across the school to make it to math. I have to be in school for at least four periods to play, and we have an important game today.

Everything feels off about today, but I can't figure out why. Even after lunch and my history test which I know I did really well on, I just feel really weird. By the end of the day, I'm still trying to figure out why everything feels so weird. Maybe it's because our game is at three today instead of six. Yeah, that's probably it.

The only time I'm able to take my mind off everything is when I hit the ice. Hockey really is my escape.

I lap the rink with purpose, each stride boosting my confidence more and more. The stands are starting to fill up, and I can't help but smile to myself from under my helmet. Maybe three o'clock games aren't so bad after all.

As I'm taking my warm up shots, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to see Teddy, who has a bit of a shy expression on his face. "Hey, what's up Ted?"

"Can I ask you a question? I need some advice."

"Of course." I say instantly. "You can always trust me. That's what I'm here for."

He looks around, as if he's afraid someone will hear him. "Hypothetically speaking, what would you do if you know that the girl who your brother likes feels the same about him, but you know he's too scared to ask her out?"