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THIRTY-EIGHT
OAKLEY
"Get up, dude. It’s noon.”
The blankets are ripped from my limp body and I groan. Matt hovers over me, his eyes narrowed. “Practice starts in half an hour. If you miss another one, Coach will kill us both.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I grumble and pull the blankets back over me.
Matt groans, “No, you won’t. That’s what you said yesterday, and instead of seeing you at the rink, I came home to you passed out on the couch. Get up now before I get the bucket.”
“Read the room, Matt. Just leave me alone, you prick.” “I’m the prick?” he scoffs. “Get out of bed and have a damn shower already. You smell like a dumpster.”
“Funny, I feel like one too.” I’m about to shut my eyes again, but fingers wrap around my ankles as Matt pulls me out of bed. My ass slams against the floor, pulling a string of curses from my lips. “Fuck you. How did you even get in here?”
“If you don’t want people to come inside your apartment, maybe you shouldn’t hide your spare key under the welcome mat like every unsuspecting victim in a murder show. Now get your ass in the shower. You have shit to do today, Oakley!” Matt adds in a shout and stalks out of my room.
I lean my head against my bed frame and sigh. The last thing that I want to do today is get my ear chewed out by Coach for my lack of effort lately. The team relies on me too much for me to let them down. But hell, I have been thinking about everything but hockey.
With another groan, I push myself off the floor and get dressed. With my hockey bag now in hand, I join Matt in the living room.
“Wow, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes? Get your shoes on. We’re already late,” he says firmly.
“Got it, Mom,” I scoff and slip on my sneakers.
Matt’s jaw clenches at my obvious attitude but he nods nevertheless and walks out the door. We walk down the hallway until we reach the heavy metal door that leads to the creepy staircase.
“Have you ever seen a homeless guy in here?” Matt asks as we walk down the graffitied stairway. It’s not an odd question. By the look of the chipped cement stairs and eerie atmosphere, I’m surprised that I have yet to find a guy living there.
“No. There was a raccoon once, though.”
Matt shoves open the exit door eagerly and sighs, “Did you name it?”
“Name it? You’re fucking weird,” I laugh as we make our way over to Matt’s truck. The mud covering the entire lower half of the navy paint makes me cringe. I spot my truck sitting pristinely behind it. “It isn’t hard to get a car wash every few months, at least, man.”
“I like it dirty,” he shrugs and pulls open his door.
I wrinkle my nose and hop into his truck. “Okay, I don't need to know that.”
He snorts and starts the engine. “That’s a new one. Since when are you afraid of a dirty joke? Oh, right. I forgot you’ve become a broody bitch.”
“Whatever,” I brush him off. He has no idea what I’m dealing with right now. He hasn’t been without Morgan since he was a kid.
“No, not whatever. I’ve been dealing with your shit attitude and awful effort on and off the ice for too long. Just call her already. Tell her she made a mistake.”
“It’s not that easy.” I stare out the window. The buildings start to blur as Matt pulls out of the parking lot. I told Ava that if she said it was over, it was over. She chose to run away, not the other way around.
“Why not? Do you seriously think that Morgan’s never threatened to leave my ass? Because she has. She still does sometimes. But we work it out. I’m going to marry her one day, dude. But that doesn’t mean that loving her isn’t hard some days, and vice versa. It’s worth all of the fights and arguments.”
I already know that loving Ava is worth everything. I’ve known that for months. What I don’t know is why I’m the only one who feels that way. She made her lack of hope in our relationship known when she tore me apart so easily.
“She left me, Matt. Not the other way around.”
“And she regrets it! You’re a damn idiot if you think she doesn’t.”
I turn to look at him with evident surprise. “How do you know that? Have you talked to her?”
“As if Morgan can keep a secret.” He flips on his blinker and turns down the road leading to the arena. My stomach twists anxiously. “Look, if you want to continue to sit in your own pity, then do that on your own. But if you want to get your girl back, I’m here to help. The entire team is.”
“What?” I turn to him again, slack-jawed.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised. We all want the old Oakley back. Not to mention that Avley is endgame, or whatever Morgan says. We all want you to be happy.”
“Avley? Endgame? You sound like my sister,” I chuckle, grinning madly. My heart is warm—proud that I’ve managed to gain the respect and friendship of my team over this wild ride of a season. Not to mention that I’ve somehow landed a best friend like Matt in the process.
“Yeah, yeah. So, you in or what?”
I clap my hand on his shoulder and give it a firm squeeze.
“Let’s get my girl back.”
