AllFreeNovel
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I’m back in the place I called home for many years. It’s where I finally achieved my dream of becoming an NHL hockey player, the place I found my brother, and where I first met her.
But Boston isn’t home anymore. It never really was to begin with. It was just another stop to me, filled with ghosts from my past and a life that could have been had Zoe and I been given an opportunity to write our own ending.
Boston also happens to harbor a lot of negative memories from a shit time in my life. I witnessed my mother fall apart when Dad decided to abandon our family and choose his own happiness. He ended up getting remarried two years after Mom and I moved to Boston, and he started a new life with someone else. As if we never existed at all. That broke her into unrecognizable pieces. She hasn’t been the same since, no matter how many lies she tells herself. Do you ever really recover from a loss like that?
Total abandonment from the one person who promised to love you.
And in a way, I left her too, spent all my free time at Aaron’s house, and when I wasn’t there, I was at the rink, playing hockey. Anything to numb the pain and forget about my life.
Forget about how I wasn’t good enough for him. I would replay his words in my head every day. He thought my mother was foolish for moving around the country, chasing my dreams when he thought I didn’t have what it took to become a professional hockey player. I used his venomous words to fuel my obsession. To become better than the previous day.
To beat myself at my own game, over and over again.
I pray that whenever he sees my face on his TV screen, he’s reminded of the bullshit he used to say to me and how utterly wrong he was about everything. I hope he regrets ruining our family when life got too hard. I hope one day he chokes on his regrets and dies a slow, painful death.
He still calls from time to time, but I don’t pick up the phone. Part of me hopes, one day, the calls stop completely, but another part of me is relieved when I see his name flash on the screen. Even though I have zero interest in talking to him, it’s nice to know I cross his mind from time to time.
What shit is that? Some sort of child psychology bullshit I can’t seem to shake.
It’s all in the past now. Time has a funny way of forcing you to keep moving, to forge ahead and transform into someone else, even in the midst of chaos. And one day, you realize that the memories no longer hurt. You’ll never forget them, but they just turn into a fleeting thought. That is comforting to me. I won’t be thinking about my father this Christmas. I’m here to see my mom, have a nice holiday, and then head straight back to Pittsburgh.
Dragging my suitcase behind me, I wave to a vacant taxi, and the driver hurries out, stomping through the wet sludge to open my door.
“Good evening.”
“Evening,” I say to the driver as he pops open the trunk, allowing me to throw in my carry-on luggage.
“Did you have a nice flight?”
Offering the man a half smile, I nod. “It wasn’t too bad.”
Grabbing the edge of my pea coat, I bend my large frame down, slipping inside the tight cabin. The stench of stale cigarettes engulfs me, and I’m tempted to roll down my window, but it’s late and cold, and I don’t want to piss anyone off tonight.
“Where to?” the taxi driver asks, resetting the taximeter.
“34 Highland Avenue in Winchester, please.”
“Sure thing,” he says, his eyes pinned on me in the rearview mirror.
Pulling out my phone from my coat pocket, I turn off airplane mode and wait for all the notifications to pour in.
Emails, texts, missed call alerts. Fuck me…I really don’t have the energy to go through everything. But I need to know if Aaron is going to be in town. We haven’t connected in a few weeks, and it would be nice to catch up without the distractions from our daily grind.
Aaron and I were inseparable in high school, and before I left for Pittsburgh, we promised we’d stay in touch and try to regroup somewhere we both love. He’s trying to make it in New York as a realtor while I continue to break hockey records.
I’ve received two Hart Trophies, and last year, I was part of the championship team. Making me one of the youngest players to achieve this status, alongside two of the greatest. And I’m just getting started at twenty-one.
Skimming the various text messages from girls I’ve already forgotten about, I don’t bother opening a single one. Been there, done that. A very small part of me feels bad for ignoring them, but I always make my conditions clear before hooking up with anyone. I never want to cause guilt or shame, but if they think they’re the exception to the rule, then that’s on them, not me.
My dating rule is as straightforward as it gets: I don’t date; it doesn’t exist in my world. I fuck their brains out, and then we say goodbye. That’s the way I frame it when we discuss how the evening will unfold. The rules are always crystal clear, and if they decide to go along with it, whether we end up at their place or a hotel, after one incredible night, we go our separate ways.
I take my time while we’re together but once our time runs out, they drift away from my mind. Fading into the past, nothing more, nothing less.
Sometimes, the terms are hard to accept, so begins the phase of blocking and ignoring. Most of the women I meet can’t even scratch the itch inside me. They don’t know about the things I desire the most. The primal need to chase and hunt, to control and punish. Tame the beast and the brat, take what I want in the way I know it’s desired. This need is unique, and not everyone understands it or feels the desire to experience it, which is absolutely fine, but it also dulls every vanilla interaction I continue to have. I’m just not interested anymore.
Maybe I can visit the club while I’m in town. They usually have events during holiday time.
It’s the place where I started to explore my kinks and didn’t feel ashamed for the things that bring me pleasure. Once I had a taste of that life, I knew I’d forever crave more. You can’t scratch an itch this profound and not become addicted to the sensation, the animalistic urge to pursue and possess. But I’ve become used to suppressing my urges, burying them away and paying them no mind. Occupying the void with hockey and a relentless commitment for self-improvement. That’s my sole focus right now.
