Nate winces at my shouted words. I’m too mad to care about being overheard, but Xander has the presence of mind to pull the door closed.
“I told you what you needed to hear.”
“Excuse me?!”
Nate clears his throat then squares his shoulders as our gazes meet. There’s a rare stubbornness flashing in his eyes. “I told you what you needed to hear back then.” he repeats, louder this time.
“WhatIneeded to hear? Fuck you, Nate! What I needed to hear was thetruth, not being fed a lie that uprooted my whole life and threatened both of our careers! Why the fuck would you do that for no reason?!”
“Nicko, wealltold you the truth, but you couldn’t deal with it. Everyone knew you were fully recovered, but you were so caught up in your head and doubting your every move. So don’t talk to me about threatening your career. You almost messed it up yourself!”
I feel like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over my head. Nate has never spoken to me like that before, and while my brain is still trying to catch on, my limbs are already shaking from a mixture of shock and anger.
“You haveno idea–” I start, but this time Nate is faster, his outburst drowning my own words.
”No, youhave no idea, Nicko. No idea what if feels like to be the second best at fucking everything! Assists, goals, points, plays, skills, talent, school! No idea what it’s like being a third-round draft pick, helplessly watching your brother talk himself out of his own opportunities.”
I recoil from him at this verbal slap, my back hitting Xander’s windowsill when there’s no more space to escape to. My stomach is cramping as guilt drowns out all other emotions—as always when someone directly compares my hockey skills to my brother’s.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, because I don’t know what else to do. There’s no other person I want to share my dream with—or at least there wasn’t until very recently. I would love to trade half of my goals for Nate’s bitten-down nails, half my assists to make his anxiety-induced cramps go away before games.
But it also hurts to have him disregard my struggles of last year, like it all just happened in my fucking head. Like I didn’t actually face the threat of an early career end.
“I never meant to take anything from you. But getting picked in the third round doesn’t have to mean you’re not NHL material. McCoy was a third-round pick, and now he’s a fucking legend!”
“Shut up!” Nate shouts back at me, his hands tearing on his blond hair like he’s trying to rip it out. “Not everyone is a fuckingwunderkindlike you or McCoy. And I don’t want you to be sorry for your talent! Do I wish I could play like you? Sure. But I neverblamed you for it. Just like I never wanted you to change schools for me!”
I open my mouth to object, then think better of it, pressing my lips together in a firm line. My glare finds Xander, who quickly holds up his hands.
“Oh, come on,” Nate snorts when he notices my look. “You think I didn’t know why you suddenly wanted to go to B-Tech so badly after mom went on and on about how I finally needed to step out of your shadow? I’m not dumb, Nicko. You chose a subpar team to give me a chance.”
I cringe when he phrases it like that. “We’re not subpar,” I protest stubbornly, although he has a point. The Badgers haven’t made it to the Frozen Four since McCoy’s glory days. We came close last year, then got sent home in the first round of the regionals. But I do like being the underdog, even if I never fully clicked with my team.
“I thought you wanted this. The NHL! It was...an investment in our dream!”
Nate huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe you should have consulted me first? I’d rather have played with you on a line for the past four years than watch you be stuck with a team you don’t even like!”
“Oh, just like you talked to me about changing your plans? No wait, you didn’t! You even lied to me because you thought...I don’t even know what you thought, Nate!” I bang my fist onto Xander’s desk, sending a few pencils over the edge.
“That was different. You were totally blocked! I knew you just had to get rid of that damned pressure you put onto yourself, and I was right. The moment you thought you were doing me a solid, you played your heart out again!”
I stare at Nate, stunned by his twisted logic. Even with all the rage bubbling inside my stomach, I know he wouldn’t doanything to intentionally harm me. Yet this is nothing he should have just decided for me.
“Oh, so now the ends justify lying to me? What if someone found out?!”
“I would have told them the truth: that it was my idea and I talked you into it. Nothing would have happened to you.” There’s not a hint of regret on Nate’s face as he stares back at me, obviously convinced he did the right thing.
My arms fall to my side, hanging there uselessly as I realize that, for the first time in our lives, he just doesn’t understand me.
Silence spreads between us, thick and suffocating. Xander’s eyes are darting back and forth between my brother and me while I stay pressed against the windowsill, the hard plastic digging into my back.
I try to picture what Nate will look like in a Utonagan’s jersey, and my stomach lurches. How far exactly is Utica from New York? Will we see each other at all during the season? With not only being on different teams but also differentleagues?Will he want to see me at all, or is this his way of stepping out of my so-called shadow?
Maybe he’ll just leave me behind. Write his book. Be Nate without Nicko.
“It’s not forever, Nicko. I...I just need extra time. To try and make this work. And if it doesn’t it won’t be the end of the world,” Nate says, sifting through my thoughts as easily as flipping pages in a book.
I find neither comfort nor consolation in his words.
