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This will bespectacularfor me.
My eyes are foggy from all the tears. I try wiping at my face, but it doesn’t stop them streaming down my face.
It doesn’t stop me from calling U-Haul to schedule the next truck available.
And it doesn’t stop me from leaving campus less than an hour after. There’s no place for me at Rubenstein.It’s time to move on.
One Week Later…
I’m spending summer in New York City. The turnaround for the trip gives me a bit of anxiety, but I’m excited to get away. I’m excited to do something productive with my life for a change. Other than trying to figure out whether or not I’m good enough for an athlete, I’d say I’m on to something conducive.
No one knows about the assault.
Sarah and Taya don’t know.
My parents don’t know.
Jake Larson for sure doesn’t know–and probably never will. That will only open a can of worms that I’m not ready to encounter yet.
I have to deal with this myself. It’s too late to get DNA tested, but it’s not too late to acquire evidence. There’s only one problem:How will I get it?
I’m one week into figuring this out, and I’ve barely found time to come up with a topic I’ll write about for the apprenticeship. Professor Moseby expedited my acceptance, but now my next task is to figure out what topic in literature I’ll write a thesis on. It’s an ongoing project for the apprenticeship, while I’m working on other tasks. It’s an exciting opportunity, but I’m still a bit blinded by how I’ll make my case about Nick.
I spent the last week crying about it and having panic attacks–of course without my parents seeing–but neither one of those things are helping me get closure from it.
I have no idea what he did, so I need to figure it out any way possible.
DRAFT DAY
JAKE
I could get used to a jersey like this.
I’m Jake Larson. I’m Mr. Braggadocio. Ipridemyself on rubbing shit in people’s faces. Though I feel compelled to do that, this year has taught me to change my tune. Being humble and staying true to yourself is what pushes success.
I’m officially a professional hockey player. Specifically, a hockey player for theLos Angeles Snowflakes. I was drafted in the first round—surprisingly, since I’d just gotten the call to practice fivedaysago—and I can now wear my jersey proudly. The white, black, and red make me smile so big.
My dad showed up for the draft—it’s the least he could do—and it’s the first congratulations I’ve ever gotten from him. Hell, it’s the firstsmileI’ve gotten from him in a decade.
“I raised you well, son.”
Those were his famous last words of the day before he disappeared in the crowd and from the arena. Shortly after he left, Hunter and Brock came up to congratulate me. Hunter was drafted in the first round by the San Francisco Snakes, and Brock was drafted in the second round by the Nashville Raptors. I’m so proud of my boys, I could cry. We graduated college, and now we’re doing what we always wanted to do.
“Bro, you know what this means, right?” Hunter gives me a waggle of the brows as we leave the arena.
“No, dude. What does it mean?”
“It means Stanley Cup is next,” he shouts as he fist-bumps Brock.
I would be annoyed if it weren’t the same thing onmymind. We’re in the big leagues now. Fuck if that doesn’t make me want to bang on my chest and roar. Everything would be perfect right now if Leia hadn’t been avoiding me. The thought of her troubles me again.
I wonder what she’s been up to. After we all left campus, it became clockwork to practice with the Snowflakes. I’ve been practicing with them every day for the last week, and I already feel at home.
But without her...everything just feels...foreign.
I’m so used to seeing and expecting her every day.
But I’m not a frat boy anymore. It pangs my heart to think about it.
