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My heart charges against my ribcage, needing and begging to escape and run free as I stand alone at center ice. Every single seat in the arena is full with angry fans, standing with their shaking fists in the air and screaming profanities to create the ultimate cacophony of static-like noise. I cover my ears with my gloved hands.
Why are they so pissed at me? What did I do?
My chest lifts a mile high with an inhale before deflating like a balloon, concaving my chest. The action repeats, over and over, faster and faster. Panic builds and builds with the screams of the fans. I want to move, get off the ice, but my skates won’t budge at all. It’s like I’m part of the surface.
I need to get out of here.
The air that seemed to be in my lungs, allowing me to breathe, even if it is hyperventilating, suddenly disappears.
It’s as if the fans steal every last molecule of my oxygen. My teammates now appear on the bench and they breathe my air too, sucking it right from me. Can’t they see I need it? My hands claw at my throat, digging into my skin as if maybe I could break through to allow air in.
BUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZ.
What is that loud noise?
BUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZ.
Where is it coming from?
BUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZZ.
I need to BREATHE!
BUUUUUUUZZZZZZZZ.
Gasping, I startle awake to the loud clunk of my phone hitting the floor. What the fuck? The red numbers on my alarm clock show it’s three in the morning. I scoot over to the edge of the bed, lean down, and pick up my phone just as the call goes to voicemail. My heart, still clamoring to escape from my nightmare, triples its efforts upon seeing the missed call from Julie, my twin brother Cal’s ex-girlfriend from high school.
Rubbing some sleep from my eyes, I call her back. She never calls this late. Something must be wrong. The ringing stops, but no one speaks on the other line.
“Julie?” I say. A choked sob sounds on the other side. I don’t know why, but I automatically toss the covers aside and start dressing. As if she’s nearby. As if I can go get her. As if I can rescue her from whatever mess she’s in now. “Jules!” I snap as I slip a T-shirt on over my head, my phone now on my dresser on speaker.
“Can you come get me, Collin?”
“Fuck,” I mutter. We’re in two different states, twelve hours apart. I’d have to figure out how to go all the way to Florida, get her, and come back, all before practice tomorrow. There’s no way to do it without missing practice.
“I’m in Wilmington,” she adds, sounding almost hopeful.
I frown. “What?”
“Wilmington, North Carolina. I’m here. Please, Collin?” She’s still crying, but she’s desperate for my help now. “I can’t…I need you to come get me. And don’t tell anyone. Not even Cal.”
“What’s going on, Jules?”
“We don’t have time for that right now,” she snaps. “You need to pick me up.”
“I’m grabbing my keys and putting on my shoes. Are you hurt? In danger?”
Julie doesn’t answer me, which says enough. I lock my door and glance at the apartment door across the hall where my twin lives. We were going to live together when we started this journey of pro hockey together, but we needed the personal space. So, we live in the same building, same floor, and across the hall from one another. I only look for a moment before heading out.
Julie gives me the address for the airport by the time I’m in my car and I enter it into my vehicle’s navigation system. Once I’m on the road toward I-40, I ask, “When the fuck are you telling me what is going on? What are you doing in Wilmington?”
“It’s nothing, Collin,” she answers with a sniffle. “It’ll be bad enough when you get here,” she adds in a quiet mutter, completely contradicting herself.
That sounds like it’ll be a fucking disaster when I get there. “Okay. Fine. But you know I don’t like walking into shit without knowing what to expect.”
“I know and I’m sorry,” she whispers. “But it’s better this way, I think. Will you talk to me until you get here?”
“Of course.” I catch her up on everything that’s happened since I last spoke to her, which was only a week ago. There’s mostly hockey updates, which aren’t all that great for me, and then the anxiety updates—again, not all that great. I talk about Cal, running with a teammate and his girlfriend’s dog in the mornings when we’re home. I talk about small and stupid shit just to fill the silence. I’ve never talked so much in my life.
“Why didn’t you fly into Raleigh?” I ask.
“I couldn’t.”
Her tone changes to one I can’t quite understand or make out, but it’s clear enough that I don’t need to question her further.
She’s standing outside as I pull up. My blood boils instantly upon seeing her and I suck in a breath at the sight of her beaten and battered face.
“What the fuck, Julie?” I demand to know the moment the door opens.
“Let’s not talk about it right now,” she replies as she climbs into my truck, tossing her luggage into my backseat.
Th
at answer is two thousand percent unacceptable. “Who the fuck did this to you, Jules?” I reach out and let only the tips of my fingers graze her cheek. She flinches. My anger flares higher at that. “What happened?”
“This isn’t a parking space; we have to move.”
“Jules,” I whisper, heartbroken at the sight of my beautiful Julie, slumped over, scared, and refusing eye contact.
Finally, she looks at me. “I want to go to Raleigh with you.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it with all her might. “Take me there, please, Collin.” Tears well in her eyes.
“Okay, but this conversation isn’t over.”
Without letting go of her hand, I use my other to put the truck into drive and off we go. I want to ask questions. Lots of them. I don’t want to assume anything, even though it’s pretty obvious someone hit her. No, that isn’t right. Someone beat the shit out of her. Julie opts not to speak. She stares out the window. I already have an anxiety problem and she’s sending my panic through the fucking roof right now.
I don’t like seeing her like this. I’ve known her for a long, long time. Cal and I met her when we were fourteen. That day isn’t hard to remember at all. Whispers spread about a new girl all morning and that day in the cafeteria, I saw her. She was standing in line next to another girl, grabbing a carton of chocolate milk. I elbowed Cal in the gut to get his attention.
We were both a bit in love with her at that point, just from looking at her. She was a knockout even then. Before a word could be uttered between us, Cal took off to talk to her. We were all friends for a long while before Cal dated her, but he pursued her from the start. They broke up when we left town for college. It was mutual. High school sweethearts or not, neither wanted something long-term nor seemed to think they would last otherwise.
But Julie and I have always kept in touch. If Cal talks to her, he doesn’t mention it, but I don’t think he does. He left her behind just like everyone else. I told him once that I still spoke to her, back when we were in college; he thought it was crazy and didn’t understand why I would keep in touch when he let her go. After that, I never talked about her or let him know when I saw her; Julie likes it that way too.
What will Cal think when he finds out Julie is in town and staying with me? Will he care? Will he be pissed? I know a lot about my twin, but Julie has always been a murky gray area. We fought over her before. Maybe that’s not the right way to say it. Cal could be a jackass to her in high school and, well, I didn’t always take his side. I didn’t like taking sides, but if he asked, I took the side of the person who was in the right, or who was mostly right, and that wasn’t always Cal. That caused a lot of arguments and tension between us because Cal thought I should choose him over her every fucking time no matter what.
