A few more sly comments are thrown my way before I leave to go back home. Each game day with the team has become another opportunity for them to berate me. I’ve become an easy target after losing Carter. After he died, the whole team was disappointed in me but with Wren’s help I was able to turn that around. For the most part, other than Jake, everyone was fine with the way I was playing. We’ve played well through playoffs, and I was able to get a few goals in but then Wren and I broke up. I didn’t think it would affect my performance, but my mind has been so distant. It’s just become another thing that I can’t move on from. Another thing that I can’t stop thinking about.
I knew that if I tried to stop her from leaving, she would still go. I’m a distraction for her and the last thing I want is her future being jeopardised because of me. Even when she acted like she didn’t like me at the beginning, we were still hanging out nearly every day as part of the contract. We were tied together in a strange way that neither of us could pull away from as much as we tried to deny it. It was an instant connection for me but for her, she could pull away just as easily. She's denying the part of herself that wants this. Us. And that is what hurts the most. Even when I try to not let her get into my head, she manages to weave her way in there and I can’t focus on the game.
*
Knowing what Mrs Hackerly is like, I try and be on best behaviour with my mom. I should be lucky that my mom isn’t controlling over what I eat and that she almost doesn’t care much about what I do. My parent’s main priority, my whole life, was making sure that I was happy. They busted their asses for me and Clara to pursue what we wanted to do. Whatever I was doing, they just wanted to make sure thatIwanted to do it and not for any other reason. Part of the reason I started to play hockey was because I enjoyed it, but I also wanted to do it because it’s what made Carter and I grow closer.
Growing up, we both discovered our love for hockey early on. As soon as we got into a junior league it was all we could talk about. Our families supported us, but Carter’s older brother, Ethan wasn’t happy with the attention we were getting. He was bitter and let us know that every time we were on our way to the rink. Their parents always brushed it off as sibling rivalry but there were things going on in private that Carter asked me never to tell his parents.
I stayed on the hockey route my entire life and my parents have never told me I couldn’t do it or that Ihaveto do it. That’s why I feel for Wren so much because even when she tries to act like she wants to do it, it’s really her mom's dreams that she’s trying to pursue.
As much as I’m grateful for my parents, the one thing I do not like is birthdays in the Davis family. Every year, no matter whose birthday it is, we have to have some sort of a celebration. For as long as I can remember, birthdays have always been a sacred tradition within our family. There’s something about bad music and shitty birthday cake that turns my family upside down. We have stupid rituals like the cake flip where the birthday person has to flip their cake and catch it the right way around. We always do speeches and when the party has died down and it goes from neighbours to close family, we each have to say one thing that we love about the birthday person.
As a kid,thatwas always my favourite part. Maybe it was an ego thing, but it was the part I remember the most when I go to sleep that night. Every year before I moved out, my mom would tuck me in and ask what the best part of the day was. “I liked the most when Carter said I was like his brother,”I would say before falling asleep. It was those little things that made me appreciate my family even more. This year, for one of the first times, I have no idea what to say about my mom. I feel like a stranger.
When I get to my parents' house, as expected, the lawn is littered with neighbours and distant family, half naked kids running up and down and babies passed out in strollers. One of my older cousins work the barbecue even though we’re powering through the last few weeks of winter. Kids run and scream on the front lawn, chasing each other with sticks. Old R&B songs blast from speakers through the windows as I walk through lawn, stupidly carrying a bouquet of flowers and a card. The first person to spot me is my mom’s sister, Whitney. She’s a few years younger than my mom but she has almost a hundred kids and has not aged a day since I was born. She’s a short, tanned woman with a sleeve of tattoos on her right arm, making her by far my coolest relative.
“Ay, Miles, you’re almost as tall as the doorframe,” she exclaims, squeezing me into a suffocating hug around my middle.
“It’s good to see you too, Auntie,” I say when I’m free. She squeezes my cheek with her thumb and forefinger, turning my face at ridiculous angles. “Do you know where my parents are?”
“Yes, they’re through there,” she sighs, pointing down towards the living room. “They’re speaking to an older couple; it looks kind of private.”
“An older couple?” I ask.
“Yes, I’ve seen them around here a few times. Your parents are speaking in Spanish if that rings a bell,” she explains before rushing past me to save one of her boys from burning themselves on the barbecue.
I don’t have to ask anything else because I know who they are. Carter’s parents are here. Before I was born, my parents became close friends with Elena and Mateo Reyes since they lived next door and Ethan is around the same age as Clara. Growing up around them, they taught me and my family how to speak Spanish and it’s become useful in so much of my everyday life. Even though they’re both fluent in English, Carter’s parents wouldn’t let me into their house unless I greeted them in Spanish.
Both of our families have been standoffish with each other since the accident. At first, my parents were over at their house nearly every day bringing food the same way all of Carter’s family was. It was hard in the beginning to talk about him but over time, they’ve become more open to talking about him and the memories that we made. My dad told me to give them a little time before I go over to see them because of how close me and Carter were so I’ve only recently been to see them on my own. I went a few weeks ago but the visit was short. Mr Reyes told me that it was too hard for them to see me even though it’s almost been nine months without Carter.
I move into the kitchen, a little away from the living room to keep my distance while they talk. Whatarethey talking about? My parents have been checking up on them regularly but why would they choose today to have a private conversation? I take a scan through the fridge to find something to eat but naturally it’s filled with uncooked seasoned chicken and cold mac and cheese stocked in containers. I look through the cupboards and grab a packet of Cheeto’s to snack on while I wait. I could go out and greet my thousands of cousins but they’re too chaotic for me right now. I already checked that Bryan, my favourite cousin who’s my age, couldn’t make it from LA today so there’s no point talking to all the little kids.
“Miles?” I hear a quiet voice breathe from behind me. I turn around to see Mrs Reyes, a tall woman with dark set eyes, and although she’s getting older, her skin is aging well. I try and swallow my chip as she looks at me, scanning my black jeans and hoodie. She inches closer towards me, her hands shaking a little as they come to rest on my arms.
“Es bueno verte, Tía,” I say, my Spanish sounding so strange on my tongue.
“Tú también. Ay, you’ve got so big,” she tries to smile but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “How are you,amor?”
“I’m doing okay.”
“Good. That’s good,” she replies, her eyes drifting away from me. “Are you still playing hockey?”
“Si.I’ve got another game until the championship,” I say softly.
“That’s good,” she says again. “That’s good.” I wiggle out of her grip a little to place my hands on her arms, trying to steady her.
“¿Estás bien, tía?” I ask softly. She nods slowly and she opens and closes her mouth. As she takes a sharp inhale, Mr Reyes comes around the corner and he connects eyes with me. He notices what’s happening and he shakes his head softly. “It’s good to you see you,tío.”
“You too, Miles,” he says walking towards us. He puts an arm around Tía Elena and mumbles something in Spanish to her. Her eyes don’t move as if she hasn’t even registered whatever he just whispered to her. “We better get going. It’s getting late.”
Mr Reyes nods at me and they walk out of the kitchen, leaving me confused. It isn't getting late, the sun is still up, but I don’t say anything to stop them. I haven’t known how to act around them since Carter died and I don’t know when it’s going to get better for them. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose your child.
My parents walk around the corner into the kitchen and when they see me, they act as if I’ve not seen them in years. I haven’t been around here since Christmas Eve, but we’ve spoken on the phone. Although the conversations were short, the communication has been better than it was a few months ago. They both embrace me in a hug at the same time, my dad practically crushing me.
“Happy birthday mom,” I declare, reaching over to pick up the flowers I got her. She looks down at them and then at me with a grateful smile.
“Aw, thank you, Miles,” she responds. My dad winks at me from behind her before sauntering off to contain the raging party behind us.
