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Her jaw drops open and I jab her in the ribs, causing her to squeal. The students in front of us turn to shoot glares at us, so I lift my hand and give them the finger.
“Please do not ask me, because that’s all I’m sharing.”
“But I feel betrayed, Pike. You never told me you had a twin,” she says.
“Fraternal,” I correct her and she just rolls her eyes.
“Like that makes a difference. You are both still fucking blood-related.”
We watch them move on the ice and my heart starts to pick up its pace as I scan the jerseys. Quinn and I have been to almost every hockey match. Besides my Father’s involvement with the team, everyone knows St. Charles’ hockey team The Columbus Wolves are the hottest badasses in town. And if you want to be with the cool crowd, you’ll attend all their games and show them just how much you love them.
Especially now because Tyler and I hang out a lot, I’m practically part of their small hockey girl squad. Quinn doesn’t even have to worry since she already has her brothers. The Slades have ruled the ice at St. Charles for two successful seasons already. Though I have no doubt they won’t go pro and it’s not only because they’re just good, but because they simply enjoy the game for the brutality of it.
“Do you know what number he is?” Quinn asks and just as I’m about to reply there’s some commotion on the ice right below us.
There’s a bunch of grey, black and blue jerseys–our Wolves players–circled by the red and yellow jerseys of the away team, The Bulls.
Someone’s helmet goes flying in the air. The crowd’s cheering and screams electrify the air, spurring the fight below. Then a player is pushed into the plexiglass and the crowd roars with excitement. People love the violence of the game, but then again who wouldn’t? Quinn squeals excitedly and grabs my hand, pulling me up to stand with her. That’s when I see him below in the midst of it all. Dark red blood gushes from his left nostril and straight onto the blinding white ice. His black hair is plastered across his forehead as he throws his gloves onto the ice and lunges forward to grab an opposition player’s jersey.Rhys.
My heart pounds in my ears as they pull them apart. Swiping the blood away with the back of his hand, Rhys glances up, jaw tight and his grey eyes flicker right over to where Quinn and I are standing. And then he’s looking right at me.
“Oh my God,” Quinn mutters next to me, but I can barely hear her words over the sporadic beating of my heart. “Pike, is that him? You bitch, you didn’t even tell me he was fucking hot.”
“Ewe, why would I do that?” I ask. “He’s my brother, Quinn. Did you forget the blood-related part?”
Deep down inside I know that the wordeweis the last thing that pops into my mind when I see Rhys. Rhys is fucking hot, but I just don’t feel like that kind of thought should be privy to anyone else. Just one look from him and it’s enough to send the butterflies in my stomach raging.
Rhys finally drags his stormy grey eyes away from mine. But I don’t forget what I see in them before he does.Anger. Pure raging anger. The player or me, I’m not entirely sure who he is pissed at and I don’t think I want to find out.
I can’t imagine what I would have ever done to earn that look. The last time I saw my brother, my Father was pulling me out of his arms because I didn’t want to let go. Rhys just stood there like he’d already given up and wasn’t even bothered about fighting for us to stay together. He let us down. He left me and didn’t even fight and I’ll never forget that. He’s intent on thinking I’m straitlaced, living in this fucking fantasy world where my life is perfect, but it goes both ways.
“Why ewe? I mean I think my brothers are fucking hot,” Quinn says. “At least we know what number he is now.”
“Your brothers are hot,” I tell Quinn, but I’m not paying attention to her anymore.
I watch as Rhys and the referee exchange words and then I see him skating off the ice. The crowd shouts in unison as the drama unfolds below us.
Quinn grabs my arm. “Oh my God, he’s being sent to the bin! And he’s a bad boy. Getting sent to the sin bin on your first game is pretty badass, Pike.”
I watch as Rhys’ number 7 jersey disappears off the ice and the game continues. The Wolves score a shorthanded goal, earning them another successful win before the final horn blows.
“Come on,” Quinn is pulling me along with her as everyone starts to get up around us. “It’s party time bitch.”
5
RHYS: CHAPTER V
Now
The Bounds. It was my favourite place to hang out. Every teen in town would come up here to escape this shithole town. It’s still my favourite place, though I’m not sure how Pike feels about it now. The last time we were here things were not good. That night was a blur. The left side of my head aches and I reach up to touch the old scar that runs down from my scalp to my cheekbone.I can still feel it. Sharp rock digging into my skin.I can still hear it.The violence of the waves.I can still taste it.Raw fish and seaweed.I can still see it.My death after the fall.
There’s a bunch of us guys from the hockey team and some puck bunnies who tagged along, standing on the ragged cliff with the thick fir trees lined up behind us. A huge bonfire rages in the centre of a pit, with two kegs a few feet away and the lyrics toRunawayby Lil Peep play in the wintry air.
I’m standing at the edge of the cliff away from everyone, watching the ocean below as the rough waves rage in the wind and climb before crashing against the jagged black rock formations. White foam bubbles and then the water dips back into those haunting black depths. The cold air stings my face and I can almost taste the salty water on my tongue as I take my next breath. It’s so dark down there that it’s almost like a bottomless pit. An abyss of nothing just waiting to swallow up its next victim. It was a hotspot for people to come and kill themselves before, hence its other name: Suicide Point.
If you jumped when the surge was low enough, your family would be lucky if they got you back in one piece and not with a million shattered bones. It’s ugly being at the edge of death, nothing but a delicate tether holding onto you in the darkness. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel. Or maybe there is and it’s just my fucked up fortune that I’m destined to go to Hell.
Unfortunately, I know the feeling of being down there in that cold, dark abyss. I remember the terrifying feeling of being pulled under the rush of violent black waves and the taste of saltwater, seaweed and raw fish as it filled my lungs. I remember dying for a split second. There’s a throbbing sensation in my skull and I feel out of touch with reality for a second. The whoosh of the wind and the crash of the waves fill me with a spine-chilling fear.I stagger forward. I’m so close to the edge right now. One more step and I’d find myself down in that pit again.
