The Cocky Hockey Captain

Chapter 21 ● Life Throws A Punch

A couple of days later I walked into the diner one night. The doorbell chimed as I opened it, but the jingle was drowned by the sudden eruption of applause from everybody in attendance. I froze for a quick second, thinking I came in at a time when they were cheering for something, maybe someone's birthday, until the unavoidable fact that every eye and smile was directed at me hit me square in the nose.

I put two and two and figured the ovation was precisely because of the state of my nose. I'd been fitted with a nasal splint and the majority of my face looked like one giant bruise. It hurt a lot and even while hopped up on painkillers I was having trouble sleeping. Although that might also have something to do with the fact that I had to keep my nose raised for that, and I was not used to it. I was a side sleeper and sometimes I even burrowed most of my face into the pillow.

Not to mention, and here was the kicker, the doctor told me to stay off of hockey for almost two months. Coach Martel had allowed me to participate of the practice drills, so long as they involved no contact. I was bored, frustrated and in pain, and a good combination that did not make.

I could tell dad was a tad bit gleeful for the hockey ban and maybe that was why he was treating me nicer. Or it might have something to do with the conversation we had.

Meanwhile my dear brother laughed his ass off once he saw me on FaceTime for a couple of minutes before he had to head out to class.

All this family support was killing me.

The town's support, though, that was killing me in a different sense. Everywhere I went I got pats on the back, handshakes or applause. I didn't deserve any of this. All I'd done was get my face smashed by some burly dude with more anger issues than even I had. I hadn't saved the town from some big bad villain, or joined the Army or the Peace Corps. Anything worth any admiration.

I gave the people at the diner an awkward wave and asked them to please stop in the most Canadian way possible, which involved a lot of thanks and sorry. Finally I was able to sit down on a corner booth and hide my bruised face behind a menu. I already knew what I was getting, but I really wanted to put a barrier between my nose and all the nice people who felt so bad for it.

"Quite a shiner you got going on," a familiar voice said. I looked up and from the rim of the menu saw Lena Lee's smirk. "Did you ice it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Does everybody in this town solve every problem by icing it?"

"Pretty much. If there's one resource we have aside from oil is ice."

I pursed my lips into a tight line.

That was precisely the second topic that robbed me of sleep for the past two nights. I tossed and turned in bed, thinking about what dad had told me and envisioning a future where his company went under. What would we do then? What could I do? I was the useless member of the family. Dad would keep working forever if he had to, no matter what anyone said or did. Work was what had kept him going even after mom's murder and my kidnapping. Miguel was studying Finance and Business at college right now, and he was so good that he already had love calls from a few big companies in the Orlando area and beyond.

I didn't even know what I wanted to wear the next day, forget about choosing a career that could feed me and keep dad from worrying about me.

I texted my brother about it earlier this morning. I wanted to have a longer, more meaningful conversation with him that would not require the use of a camera so that he could focus more on what I said than on how I looked. I wanted to know if he also knew about what was going on and had hid it from me, if only to get pissed at him for a few minutes. And then I needed advice. A whole lot of it. But I didn't know if to broach the third topic that had kept me wide awake with him, or if that'd be to court even more trouble.