Page 36 of The Fake Out

BLAISE

I watched Veronica go with a hint of disappointment. She didn’t even stay for coffee. I wondered if taking her to bed last night and asking her to stay over was a bad idea. Was I already in over my head?

“I need a coffee,” I grumbled.

I went over to the coffee pot to pour myself a black coffee. I grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and begrudgingly sat down at the table across from my dad.

He arched an eyebrow at me, the type of look he gave me whenever he was disappointed in me. Which seemed to be all the time. I didn’t know why I could never live up to my dad’s expectations. Wasn’t it bad enough that when Mom died, he mentally checked out on us all? Why did I even care what he thought about me?

“Blaise.”

“What?” I snapped.

“Veronica…” he trailed off, giving me that same look of disapproval.

I gnashed my teeth to keep from saying something I’d really regret. “You think I’m not good enough for her.”

“I never said that.”

“Not like anything I ever do is good enough. I know I’m a disappointment to you.”

“Blaise, that’s not true,” he said, sounding hurt.

“Then why do you act like my accomplishments are nothing? I know my season was shit last year, and I’m lucky the Bulldogs took me on.”

“Because you’re too much like me!” he snapped.

“What?”

He sighed. “I mentally checked out on you kids after your mom died, and it wasn’t fair to any of you.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Because I saw you do the same thing when that girl broke your heart. You wrecked a good thing with Toronto because you checked out on the career you worked for your entire life. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as me.”

I pushed out of my chair, abandoning my breakfast. “You know what? Forget it. I’m not having this conversation with you. I don’t know why the fuck I moved back in with you.”

I stormed out of the house and sped off to the arena. I was pissed and in the wrong headspace, but hopefully I could get this shit out of my system once I got on the ice. And I was way too early for morning skate, so I turned back around, stopped at Wawa to grab another coffee and call my sister.

My sister and baby brother were twins, but Maja and I were closer than the two of them.

“Why are you calling me this early?” my sister moaned on the other line.

I laughed. “Shut up. I know you’re up this early because you have practice before class.”

“True. What’s up?”

“I got into a blowout fight with Dad.”

“What he say?”

I sighed. “That I’m too much like him, and I shut down after Astrid broke up with me, just like he did when Mom died. And then I got pissed and stormed out like I was sixteen years old again and I was the disappointing son. Like I always fucking am.”

My sister was quiet on the other line for a few seconds, and it stretched out to minutes on my end.

“Maja?”

She cleared her throat. “Um…dude, I hate to break it to you, but Dad’s right. You did exactly what he did after Mom died, only you didn’t have six little kids depending on you. I love you, big bro, but you fucked yourself last year. I was really worried about you. We all were.”