AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Five,” I admit.
“Oh, never mind then. That sounds middle class to me.”
I roll my eyes. “My parents both come from money, and they’ve been pretty successful, so yeah…my family is rich.”
“What do your parents do?”
“My dad is an entertainment lawyer. He works with a lot of celebrities, movie stars. My mom works in fashion. She runs a huge company.”
“Does it bother you? The money?”
I shrug. No one has ever asked me that before. Most of my friends and classmates are just as well-off financially. It ignites curiosity about Elliot’s background.
“I feel guilty. LA has a huge homeless population. I get driven to school in a brand-new car, looking out at people who slept on the street and have a shopping cart’s worth of possessions. It feels selfish, and I guess it also bothers me that my parents spent more time earning that money than they ever did with me.”
“Some people aren’t meant to be parents.” It doesn’t sound like he’s talking about mine.
“What do your parents do?”
He hesitates before answering, making me think of the bitter note in his voice when his father came up. “My mom is a teacher. My stepdad’s a firefighter.”
“And…your dad?”
He gives me a small, rueful smile that makes me think the exclusion was purposeful, makes me think he was testing me, to see if I’d ask, if I’d remember our conversation on the town dock last night.
“Now? I’ve got no idea, but he used to play hockey. Professionally.”
“Ah.”
“It’s not like that. I’m not trying to be like him. I’m trying to be better than him.”
“Show him what he missed out on,” I add quietly.
“Maybe,” he admits. “But I’m notthatbitter about it. I’m good. I love playing. If I get to live my dream and that doubles as a ‘Fuck you’ to my father, well then that’s just a bonus.”
“How old were you when he left?”
“Two.”
“And you haven’t seen him since?”
Elliot shakes his head. I don’t need to ask him if he wants to. The answer is evident in the harsh lines of his face.
Our food and coffee arrive, and I follow Elliot over to an unoccupied table in the corner. He asks me random questions as we eat, mostly about my friends and school in California, nothing heavy. It surprises me how easy it is to commiserate with him over standardized tests and compare school subjects, to discuss drama with friends and debate best bands.
Usually, I sort friends into clear categories. Lana Kraven is my oldest friend. We met in kindergarten and have been close ever since, but there are certain things I don’t discuss with her. I haven’t told her about my parents’ marriage ending, for instance. Her father works with mine, and that’s part of the reason—but not all of it. At school, I have friends I sit with at lunch. Others I only talk to if we share a class. Some I talk to about things that matter. Some I don’t.
I’ve never had a friend I talked to about both the heavy and the light. It’s nice.
After we finish eating, I follow Elliot down the street. As soon as we reach the end of the block, I see the massive structure to the right with huge letters spelling outCANMORE ICE RINKabove the front doors.
“We’re seriously going ice skating? InJuly?”
“Don’t Americans play baseball in the winter?” Elliot counters.
“Grass doesn’t melt in the winter,” I reply.
He chuckles as we make our way across the expansive parking lot. Elliot types something into the keypad next to the door before pulling it open and gesturing for me to enter. I walk inside and am immediately hit with a rush of cold air laced with the scent of sweat and coffee.
