FREE STORY WITH EXCLUSIVE CONTENT. This is *not* a Paid Story.
Eighteen-year-old hockey prodigy Elliot Wexler has three goals for senior year. One: somehow graduate with a 3.5 GPA. Two: hide his bipolar disorder from his peers. And three: make it in...
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WHEN LUCY LEAVES, the house is quiet, and I have a bag of marbles rattling in my chest. She agreed to stay with me. Tomorrow, she's coming here—and we're gonna hang out. Alone.
I haven't forgotten what she said before, about not being down for sex. I'm okay with that—I can't even tell if she likes me as more than a friend, so I won't try anything. No way. But I can admit when I like a girl. The thought of kissing her sends a boiling hot sensation through my whole body. Honestly, if she ever wanted to do anything, I don't know if I could even handle it. I'd probably crumple like a Pepsi can under the pressure.
In the living room, Dad watches an old Leafs game on the flat screen, laid back in the recliner with his hands clasped over his lap, like he's forcing himself to relax even though he's frowning. Even when he's about to go on a literal vacation getaway, he's always so stressed. His job weighs on him. He says he loves protecting the city, but he doesn't show it.
"Your cold's all gone, huh?" he asks, and I sit on the couch.
"Pretty much. Told you it wasn't that bad." We watch the game in silence for a bit before I ask, "Excited for Cuba?"
"Hmm. Yeah. Sort of. You know it's more for your mother and your sister. I'd rather be at your game." He strokes his stubble. "You sure you're going to be okay by yourself, right?"
"I'll be fine, Dad."
"You know the rules. No girls, no parties. Don't miss a practice."
"Okay." Not wanting to give him another chance to bitch at me, I get up and leave, but as I'm at the archway, Dad stops me.
"Hey, El?"
"Yeah?"
"That girl, Lucy... you ever brought her around before? Before the night she first stayed for dinner."
"No, why?"
"She looks familiar."
"Maybe you saw her when you dropped me off at school or something. I don't know."
"Hm. Yeah, maybe."
That can't be true, obviously, because Lucy doesn't actually go to my school. So where would Dad have seen her?
