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“Oh pshh.” My mom waved her off. “Don’t dissuade her from the possibility, Clara. She needs to let someone new in. Replace that skeezy Garrett sonofabitch with a better lover.”
“Mom!” Clara and I said at the same time. Clara cut her eyes to her children playing in the living room.
“Really, I thought dad was the potty mouth, not you,” Clara accused.
“I’m just saying,” she said, innocently shrugging her slim shoulders. “I know you’re in the middle of a man-hating era, but not all boys are bad. Some are very sensitive actually, but you’ll never know that if you categorize them all as Garretts.”
I breathed out a sigh. She was probably right. But all the comments from the viral video drama still swirled in my head. Some hyped me up, but many tried to tear me down, calling me a bitter, scorned woman, others calling me a puck bunny who deserved to be cheated on… And to think– I actually only ever wanted to end up with someone who could skate because my dream vacations were to places like Switzerland and Banff and Alaska so I could go outdoor skating. Someone who loathed skating would hate that kinda thing. It was just too bad that Garrett tainted that future picture for me.
And while I really wished I could forget about him completely, it was really hard to forget when the entire internet posted thirst traps of him all the time. While the scandal made half the world hate him, the other half made him the face of hot hockey players everywhere. I vowed to never date a guy that attractive ever again. I swear, his good looks just went to his head and gave him permission to have the astronomical level of audacity he possessed. Never again.
“Just be open with the new neighbors. Debra’s daughter met someone that way,” she said.
“Don’t make it sound like Debra’s daughter’s doing better just because she met someone. She had a one-night stand with a neighbor and now she’s struggling to track him down for child support,” Clara deadpanned. “She needs to raise her standards, not lower them. Just because someone’s a neighbor does not make them a contender.”
My mom rolled her eyes, “I’m just saying, be open.”
“But not too open,” Clara noted.
“I’m moving out for more independence, guys. Not to meet a guy,” I reminded them, feeling my face heating up. I was not a fan of discussing my love life before breakfast. “And what happened to de-centering guys from our conversations?”
My mom rolled her eyes. “That’s only for when your sister Katie’s here.”
“Mom!” we both shouted in unison. Katie was currently going through a rough patch with her husband.
“What? It’s true! You guys need different talks. Parenting isn’t one size fits all, ya know? She needs to be more independent, you need to be maybe a tad bit less independent,” she said, scrunching up her face as she looked at me.
“Mom,” Clara clapped back, “she totally doesn’t need to be less independent. Don’t tell her that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I just mean she can let someone in, ya know? She can use some help with letting her guard down… maybe the help of a hunky guy!” she said, wagging her eyebrows.
“Hunky?” I smacked a hand to my forehead. “Make it stop,” I begged Clara.
“Yes, hunky!” my mom repeated, sticking her chin in the air, completely unashamed of her adjective of choice. “Your father was very hunky,” she said, her eyes glinting at the thought of him.
I made a mock-barf noise and cut my eyes to Clara, telepathically asking,seriously?
My mom’s face transformed into a cringe then as she eyed my ratty sweatshirt, glasses, and greasy hair. “Just don’t go around your new apartment like this,” she said before turning to dote on her grandchildren in the living room.
Seeing my face in response to that, Clara practically choked on her coffee.
“Thanks for the backup, sis,” I grumbled as she continued laughing.
11. Tyler
I ran down the hallway after Hassik and Garcia, trying to mentally prepare myself for the absolutely verbal beatdown we were about to get over being late to practice. It wasn’t my fault to be honest, it was Hassik’s. Apparently Francesca, the she-devil– did reach out to him last night– not with a letter as the fortune cookie predicted, but with a text– and this morning, he would not get the fuck out of bed for practice.
We finally got him up by threatening that we were going to reach out to Francesca personally with not the nicest of phone calls if he didn’t move his ass.
I rounded the corner of our locker room and slammed right into Hassik’s back, who was standing straight up with everyone’s eyes on him. Garcia’s cubby was right by the door, so he slipped into his seat to my left without anyone really even noticing. Hassik and I had to cross the damn room.
“Nice of you boys to join us,” Coach said dryly.
“Yeah, nice of you to join us,” Garcia mimicked under his breath, grinning like an asshole.
“Fuck off, dickhead,” I muttered back at him.
“Mr. Jettersen!” Coach boomed, pointing his finger to the hall. “Wait in the hall!”
