Page 22 of Penalty Shots

I hold the pugil stick up and toss it into the pool. Then, from the rush of excitement, I beat my chest like a gorilla. My classmates cheer for me as Ryker attempts to climb out of the pool.

I turn, pumping my hands into the air and savoring the attention for once in my life. But as I turn, I see my mother on the far end of the quad. She’s not alone. She’s accompanied by one of the coaches. He’s making her laugh. She doesn’t seem to know it’s me in the suit. But suddenly, I don’t hear the roar of the cheers of my classmates.

Instead, all I can focus on is the woman who raised me, now warmed up to a man whoisn’tmy father. And he’s rubbing her belly.

And as I watch him do so, my own stomach drops.

Chapter 6

Keelan

There aren't many things that can get me down in life. I guess that's just what happens when you experience something as earth-shattering as losing both your parents at only sixteen.

When your whole world comes crashing down in an instant, you tend to take everything else that just pales in comparison in stride.

I flip my favorite puck around and around in my hand as I sit in my ice bath. My physical therapist just increased my time in the bath, so I need something to focus on other than the seconds slowly ticking by on the table next to me.

Seven minutes have gone by. Eight more to go. Nearly halfway there.

Usually, I take this time to clear my mind. Meditate. Try to relax.

But tonight, something feels off.

It could be that we lost to our division rivals. They'll be holding that over our heads until we play them again next month.

But the more I try to ignore it—the more that nagging feeling in my chest becomes more pronounced.

It's Rina.

It was that look in her eyes at the game, standing next to Jenny. And my mind keeps drifting back to that summer when we were young. The one where everything changed between us. The one that we both refuse to acknowledge now that we're adults with fully formed pre-frontal cortexes.

At least, I'd like to assume as much. I don't have evidence that mine is, and judging by the way I've been acting lately—I wouldn't be surprised to find out that Rina's been right all along. Maybe I am a man-child.

I glance at the clock and continue to turn the puck over in my hand.

Seven and a half minutes left.Shit.It feels like time's going by slower than usual.

Anyways… where was I? Puck. Ice bath. Losing… ah, Rina. All roads always lead to Rina when it comes to my train of thought.

It's been over a decade, and somehow, the woman still manages to completely enthrall and infuriate me.

Man-child.

Because I wanted to have fun while I still could—knowing that the only thing in life that would make me happy would be to finish what my dad had started so many years before me.

Man-child.

Because I always put the team first.

Man-child.

Because I picked it… over her. Even though she knew what I was trying to do. She knew how important this career was to me. She couldn't wait for me. She chose to leave.

So many nights, I've wondered what I could've done differently, what I could've said to make her stay. What I could've changed to prove to her that she meant so much more to me than I ever let on.

But I was young. And so was she.

Man-child.I scoff.