UNEDITED
Kaleb Jones is living the dream. He's playing hockey with Shea Smith again, dating the woman of his dreams, and has a promising future ahead.
Ella Taylor's life feels perfect until she discovers her boyfriend has been cheating on her with...
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Kaleb
My nerves are on edge. Every fibre of my being is prepared to face the consequences of outing a team member. I'm okay with that. What I'm not okay with is working with the media. I've never liked their stance on privacy. They don't understand the word. In the past week, news about Mel has spread across the country like wildfire. Condolences have gotten so bad we've had to make our social media accounts private.
When comparing Mel's illness to Brenna's case of sexual assault, Brenna has it worse. Society feels terrible when someone suffers from an illness. But when something that is deemed "political" rises to the surface, that notion of division is created. Both sides of the coin will devour Brenna's social media. People will support her and people will blame her. I admire her for agreeing to this. Especially considering she's looking out for other women, too. Not just herself.
My hands are jittery and I don't know what to do with them. I grab my water bottle and crack the lid open, taking a long sip. There's an ache in the back of my throat. Whether it's from an oncoming cold or stress remains to be seen.
After I've set the water bottle down, Shea grabs my wrist. He leans close to me. "Take a deep breath, KJ. We're gonna be okay."
Hearing him say that makes me was to laugh. Before we stepped onto the platform, Shea was almost shitting his pants. "Fucking hypocrite," I mutter.
A grin splits his face. "Of course I am. Always have been. But keeping my thoughts positive is the only reason I'm sitting here right now. Otherwise, I'd be running down the street to the nearest convenience store, buying ice cream, and eating it until my colon explodes."
I wrinkle my nose. "That's way too much information, Shea."
"No, it's not," he snorts. "You have experienced my battle with dairy many times."
"Yeah," I fire back, "and you're the fucking idiot who keeps eating it. Why don't you switch to almond milk-based desserts? They're not bad."
Shea looks disgusted. "You need dairy in your life. There is no replacement that can make up for the creaminess of ice cream. Or milkshakes. Or cheesecake. Or—"
I dig my elbow into his ribs. "Fine. You've made your point. You could at least take some pills before ingesting dairy, though. It would be a favour to us all." I pause. "Do you remember that book we used to read in elementary school? Walter the Farting Dog? Because that's who you remind me of when you eat dairy."
He tosses his head back, laughing. His arms stretch out behind him and he runs his palms down his neck as he returns to a sitting position. "Damn, KJ. You're ruthless."
A small smile peeks through. Genuine smiles have been difficult to come by. I appreciate them when they decide to make an appearance. Just as much as I appreciate the people trying to help them break through.
Grabbing the water bottle, I take another sip. A few more seconds tick by and then Coach Brinsen joins us. He sits in the empty seat next to Shea. A ball cap did not cover his bald head today. Nor is he wearing his usual blue windbreaker. Instead, he's dressed in a suit jacket.
