He Shoots, She scores

Chapter Thirty-Three: Weston | The Secret

I have ten big ass athletes throwing themselves on me. They're cheering and patting me on the back, and one look towards the bleachers lets me know that I've got the entire arena in love with me tonight. My teammates are chanting, "West-on! West-on!" There's a bright smile in every corner and crevice.

Even if hockey isn't my number one passion, I can still appreciate a good win when it happens. The sport means the world for Eli, RJ and everybody else on the team. I couldn't let them down. We barely scraped by with a 5-4, but hey, that's enough to get us to the semi-finals. Which means we're only two games away from bringing home another gold trophy.

After we change out of our uniforms, I meet Lester Wilson out front, my old coach from my high school days. He's wearing a long trench coat and pulls me in for a fatherly hug. He squeezes tight, his silent way of saying, I'm proud of you. "You played good, kid." Wilson beams at me and claps my shoulder. It's crazy how back in high school, we were eye to eye, but now I easily tower over him. Wilson is the only person to regularly attend my games. He's been the father figure I longed for growing up, and if it weren't for him, I doubt I'd still be playing nowadays.

"Thanks, Wilson." I grin at him. "You bring your kids over here?"

Wilson, at the ripe age of 64, who doesn't look a day over 40, has a heaping handful of kids and grandkids, and yet still makes the time to see me play. Sometimes he brings them to my games, and when that happens, I end up with six different kids climbing all over me. While my actual father taught me to become hyper-independent and take no shit from anyone, Wilson's the one who taught me the importance of hard work, ethic, and making time for loved ones. Considering he took me under his wing, me, a loner with the adequate potential of playing hockey, means the world to me. Wilson believed in me when literally nobody else did. I owe him my life. "Ah, not today. They're at my wife's. She's making her famous pecan pie." He momentarily wrinkles his brows as he takes me in from head to toe. "You been takin' care of yourself, West?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You know sleep and a good diet is the golden rule." I almost roll my eyes. Did he honestly think I'd forget that? Especially after the number of times he's drilled it into my head? "You keep playing like that and you're guaranteed a spot in the NHL, son."

"Yes, sir." I don't have the guts to tell him that the NHL is no longer in my periphery.

"You got your eye on a team yet? I heard scouts are coming next game. With you playing as center now, they ought to be linin' up to get their hands on you."

I let out a polite chuckle. "I'm not picky." Sometimes I think Wilson over-does it with the compliments just because he knows I've grown up with a lack of them. He's one of the few people in my life aware of the complicated relationship I have with my father. Every holiday, Wilson invites me to stay over at his house. His family is like my first.

Wilson hugs me one last time. "I'll see you at next week's game. Hey. I'm proud of you, kid." Even though he says this every game, it still hits me in a bittersweet moment. Probably because those are four words that I'll never hear from the person who is supposed to mean it the most. 

RJ and Eli want to go out for drinks and celebrate, but I promise them we'll celebrate after we finish this season once and for all. For now, we need to get home and rejuvenate. The entire drive home though they don't shut up about my last-minute shot when there was only a minute left on the buzzer. I faked a pass and got slammed so hard into the boards that I was initially convinced I broke my jaw, but the point is that I made the shot. And it was that shot that got us through the next round.

We're riding on adrenaline and post-win highs when we get home. That all comes crashing when we spot Gracie on the couch sobbing into Nessa's arms. My heart flinches. Gracie's head is in her hands, but when she hears the door open, she quickly wipes her tears away and fakes a smile. "Hi, guys. Did you win?"

RJ, the dumbass, beams. "Yeah! You wanna hear how-" Both Eli and I elbow him in the ribs while he doubles over hissing.

I ignore his curses and beeline towards Gracie. Throwing my bag to the ground, I kneel to the floor and place a palm flat on the couch to either side of her. I'm searching her face for clues. "What happened?" I ask, my voice suddenly gone rough. The idea of someone making her cry brings my tone to a murderous lilt. 

"Nothing" she says, much too quickly. Gracie tries for a smile, but it doesn't last long before her lower lip quivers once more. "I'm fine." Fucking bullshit. Anybody with eyes can see she's far from fine.

I whip my head to Nessa and demand, "What happened?"

Nessa, just like Gracie, is a terrible liar. "I- um, I'm not sure! She won't tell me." Nessa fiddles with the hems of her dress before jumping her fingers to twirl her purple dyed hair. This is when I realize they're both wearing dresses. Clubbing dresses, it seems. Their heels have been kicked to the floor just three feet from us.

"Where were you guys tonight?"

Nessa shoots a look to Gracie, and soon enough, they're communicating in their own made-up, silent female language. It's driving me bonkers. By now, RJ and Eli have joined my side. RJ claps my shoulder and gently remarks, "I think it's obvious they were at a party, bro."

A party. "No" Nessa scoffs. "It was a club" she corrects us quietly.

I scan my eyes back to Gracie. She looks like she's trying to prevent herself from balling in front of everybody once more. Biting her lip and lowering her head so that a curtain of hair conceals her face. The word 'clubbing' alone is enough to piece together some evidence. I cradle her cheeks in my hands and ask with grit determination: "Did someone hurt you?" That thought alone makes me livid with violence, but Gracie won't confess anything. She just keeps shaking her head until she stands up. "I said I'm fine" she reassures us, which does nothing to calm my nerves whatsoever. "I'm going to bed early" she adds quietly.

I watch her go up the stairs, one step at a time, until she's completely out of frame. My heart is still pounding like a madman. I need answers. I turn to Nessa once more. "I swear to go, if something happened to Gracie and you're not telling me-"

"For the last time, I don't know!" Nessa shouts. "And I'd think twice the next time you try to threaten me, Avery Weston." She wrinkles her nose up at me before whirling on her heels. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to check in on my best friend."

RJ stares at her and whistles. "I've never met anyone as small and scary as that chick."

Eli says, "Just give Gracie some time, man. She'll come around. She just needs space."

RJ nods. "And when she does tell you what happened, me and Eli will be there as backup. Anyone who makes my friends cry will need some serious facial reconstruction after."

I sigh. Even though I know they're right, I can't go on with my day knowing. Something obviously happened, and until I know what it is, it's going to be living rent-free in my mind.