Off the Ice (Juniper Falls)

  She stares at me, staying silent, probably looking confused as hell because that’s how I feel, and says, “Do you know why he quit?”

  Um…no freakin’ idea.

  Chapter 46

  –Tate–

  “We were told by Bakowski that Tanley’s out with the flu, but rumor is, he’s turned in his jersey.”

  I pace back and forth in the tiny walking space available in Roger’s cabin. Yes, I’m torturing myself by listening to the game on the radio. Yes, I’m hiding out. If I don’t hide, I’ll end up at the ice rink, back in my uniform. And I knew Dad wouldn’t find me here.

  “This isn’t good for the Otters, but surely, as the number-one seed in the section, they can hold their own against the last-place team.”

  God, I hope so. Losing this game would be a historical level of humiliation for our team and town. My phone is shut off for now. It’s been blowing up all afternoon. I don’t know what my mom is thinking. I don’t know if she’s looking for me. Most likely, she’s heard that I’m not at the game. Even if she’s still at work, someone’s told her by now.

  The radio continues to dictate the game play-by-play, telling me everything I’m missing. The team—my team—is more a part of me than I realized. I just haven’t ever had to give it up.

  “Oh no! The Otters let a goal through…they should be pushing for a shutout against a team seeded last.”

  And to think, I didn’t even want to go in during that first home game. No, that’s not true. I was afraid to go in. But I wanted to. I’ve always wanted to play.

  During a break between periods, I go outside and sweep snow from the ice until my hands and feet are completely numb. I have to move; I have to do something with this pent-up energy.

  Finally, near the end of the third period, I turn my phone back on. I skim through the many texts, but I only read one person’s message: Claire.

  Just seeing her name on my screen does something to me.

  CLAIRE: don’t let him take this from u.

  Is that what I’m doing? Am I handing over something I love because my dad owns part of it? I guess that’s true, but he needs to know I’m making my own decisions. Now that I’ve shown him, I need to find him and make sure the message is received.

  Chapter 47

  –Claire–

  I made the mistake of telling Haley about my dad pushing for me to register for spring quarter. She keeps looking at me from across the dining room, and I can tell she’s forming her persuasive arguments in her head.

  But right now, all I can think about is Tate. Where is he? How is he doing? This stuff with his dad has gone too far. He needs to talk to someone. Besides me. More than me. Maybe I need to take a note from my dad. Maybe I can lead by example, face my own obstacles with the hope that it will drive Tate to do the same. That’s what Dad had done earlier by coming in here. He was trying to show me that things are getting better. That he’s getting better. That maybe I don’t have to handle as much.

  I shove that thought aside and focus on bringing out more orders of chicken wings and cheese sticks to the long tables of varsity hockey players and their families, plus most of the alumni guys—including Luke Pratt. And unfortunately, Luke has brought some of his scummy friends with him. Even when I still had a crush on him, I’d hated his friends.

  After I drop off the food, when I’m leaning against the bar, Jamie and Leo corner me.

  “Where is he?” Leo demands.

  Jamie nods toward a table where Roger and Tate’s mom have just sat down. “They’re freaking out over there. His mom thought we would know; we thought she would know. What the fuck is going on?”

  My heart races. Where is he? Why don’t his best friends know anything?

  My dad sees us huddled near the bar and glances my way. He looks concerned, but he doesn’t move to get up from the table near the back where he’s rolling silverware one-handed. I still can’t believe he stuck around for the big crowd. He must really want me to think he’s okay. My mom and Aunt Kay keep making excuses to check on him. We’re all on pins and needles having him here again. But he does look stronger today. Every week he’s away from chemo he’ll get stronger. That’s what his doctor told us.

  “Claire!” Leo repeats, jolting me back to our little huddle. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit reluctantly. “We haven’t…we haven’t been talking.”

  “We can’t play the next game without him.” Jamie leans over and bangs his head against the bar counter. He stands upright and looks at Leo. “If we were T-Man, where would we go?”

  Leo looks at me. “This is about his dad, isn’t it? What’s the deal with that?”

  I shake my head, still loyal to Tate despite every ounce of me protesting.

  “Come on, I know something happened. He flipped out right after I told him about the eligibility stuff,” Leo says.

  The guys at Luke Pratt’s table are glancing around like they’re looking for someone to bring them something. I push past Jamie and Leo. “I gotta work.”

  When I pass by one of Luke’s friends I don’t recognize from our school, he sets a hand on my waist and flashes me a big grin. “Look at you, right at my service…”

  I move away from him and walk around to the other side before taking their drink orders. My phone vibrates inside my apron. I pull it out just enough to read the name on the screen: Tate.

  I ditch Luke’s table mid-order, walk far enough away from them before answering the call, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Where the hell are you?”

  Chapter 48

  –Tate–

  He was just outside of town when I caught up to him. Both of us had pulled into a gas station and got out of our cars. He almost looked like he’d expected this encounter from me when I first saw him.

  “Is this what you wanted?” My dad lifts his hands. He’s standing in front of me now. “To humiliate me? Job well done, Tate.”

  “It’s not about you.” Rage built up from months—no, years—of holding it in, putting on the brave, happy face, is bubbling to the surface. I’m losing control. I need to find my way out of this so I can say what I need to. “In fact, I don’t need anything from you. I’ll find another way into college if that’s what I want. I love hockey, but I’ll give it up in a heartbeat if it means keeping you from manipulating my teammates and me.”

  “You have no idea what it’s like in the real world,” he snaps. “Juniper Falls is an alternate reality where boys like you are made to believe you’re special. Well, I can tell you right now, you’re not special. If you don’t want it badly enough, if you aren’t willing to do what needs to be done, then you’ll never make it anywhere with hockey.”

  “Fine.” I shrug. “Then I won’t. You mess with Jamie and Leo again or try to drag me into some illegal coaching session, I’m gonna turn you in to someone.”

  He folds his arms over his chest and smirks at me. “You make it sound so easy. Just wait until you’re right there, ready to show any disloyalty to your team or your town—you won’t go through with it. Why do you think we keep secrets so well around here? You’re damaging more than just my reputation.”

  That message hits harder than I want it to. Still, I wave a hand, already ready to leave. “Whatever. You heard me. We’re done here.”

  I delivered the message. He’s unsure enough about what I might do that he’ll back off. I get in the van and head down the two-lane highway. After a minute or two of driving, I’m reaching for my phone and calling Claire.

  “Where the hell are you?” she says in a hushed voice the second she answers.

  I give her a brief recap of the conversation with my dad. I don’t know if she and I are okay, but I do know now that we can do this—disagree and still be there for each other. “Tell my mom and the guys I’m on my way there.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She exhales and then her voice turns to its normal volume. She must have gone in the office or somewhere away from everyone. “
This is messed up. Your dad, what he’s doing.”

  “I’m handling it—I handled it,” I say. “I called him out on his bullshit. This is what you wanted, right?”

  Even saying the words to Claire, I’m aware of this ball of ugly building in the pit of my stomach.

  Why do you think we keep secrets so well around here?

  “You handled it alone. Again.” Claire’s tone is gentle, but it might as well be a slap in the face. “These feelings you’re having, they don’t just vanish because you stood up to your dad. If Stewart or Ron messed with you right now, you wouldn’t pick a fight with them?”

  I did something big today. It’s a step in the right direction. Why can’t she see that?

  I want to play in game two of Sections; I want a shutout and another shutout in game three. I want to play at State for the first time. I hope to God Bakowski lets me back after I pissed him off by turning in my uniform today. But he told people I was out with the flu, so he must have held out hope I’d be back. That’s a good sign.

  Claire sighs on the other end of the phone. “Tate, you can’t keep doing this. Making excuses not to tell anyone.”

  “I promise you, I’m okay.” The words come out snappier than I’d meant them to. This leads to an abrupt end to our conversation.

  But while I’m driving down the dark two-lane highway, I can’t help thinking, if I’m okay, why do I still feel on the verge of snapping?

  Chapter 49

  –Claire–

  Tate’s mom and Roger seem like they want to ask me a dozen more questions and so do Jamie and Leo, but I tell them Tate’s on his way. I hate this feeling. Knowing he’s not okay and knowing he thinks he is. Despite Tate’s big show of action today, there’s no way Keith is done doing his damage to Tate and the team.

  The crowds in the dining room, coupled with all the stress from today, has me volunteering to take the garbage out a little while later, just to get some air. I make it all the way to the Dumpsters in the back alley alone, but as soon as I finish tossing the bags in, I hear footsteps behind me. I sigh and rest my face in my hands.

  “Who is it? Jamie or Leo?”

  “Neither,” a deep, scratchy voice says. One I heard minutes ago at the table with Luke Pratt’s friends.

  The hair stands up on the back of my neck. I spin around fast and gasp when I’m practically nose-to-nose with a guy who I thought left right after my phone call with Tate. I saw him head out the door. He never opened a tab, so I don’t even know his name.

  His breath smells like beer; his clothes reek of dead fish. Luke apparently has made some fisherman friends who like to corner girls in a dark alley.

  This is like a scene straight out of a horror movie.

  Don’t panic.

  Statistically, there’s a 95 percent chance that he’s here to tease, maybe flirt inappropriately, but not the ax murdering, body dismembering I’m imagining. I’ve never even heard of anyone being intentionally dismembered in Juniper Falls. Ever.

  I force a grin, my legs already shaking. “Oops, sorry, I thought you were someone—”

  A hand claps over my mouth and my back slams into the Dumpster before I can even think about stepping around the guy or running.

  Oh God. Not good. My heart pounds, my brain unable to form a plan, to remember any fucking thing from that ridiculous self-defense class my mom made me take before I left for college. Only now I’m thinking it wasn’t so ridiculous.

  Grab the hand that grabs you.

  I tug on his pinkie finger and manage to lift his hand an inch off my mouth, exhale a short-lived scream, before he presses it down again, harder this time.

  Step on his foot. Do it now!

  I lift my black boot and smash it onto the guy’s foot as hard as I can. His face twists and he lets out a yelp. I push him away with my free hand and take off. I make it two steps before the hand is over my mouth again. His arms hug me tight from behind, binding my own arms to my sides.

  Oh God. This can’t be happening. Think, Claire. Think.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he breathes into my ear. “But I am sick of you ignoring me and shaking your ass in front of me all the time. I at least deserve a minute alone with you.”

  “What the fuck!” I hear someone say.

  I don’t bother squinting into the dark to see who it is. The voice has created a distraction. The guy turns his head, his grip loosening. I free my elbow and jab him hard in the groin. He grunts before releasing me. I take off running.

  I smack into Leo, my entire body in panic mode. And then I see Tate flying past me, his eyes blazing.

  Leo grips my arm and leans down. “Are you hurt?”

  My mouth falls open, the words lodged in my throat, when a beer bottle smashes against the pavement. Even from twenty feet away, I see Tate’s body stiffen and then, before the dude can run away, he’s launching himself at him.

  I can’t fight this off. Can’t fight the flashback to last fall in this very same spot. If I can’t shake it, what’s happening to Tate? Especially after—

  “Claire!” Leo yells at me. “Are you hurt?”

  I shake my head. I’m not hurt. Except something warm and sticky is trickling down my lip. Leo releases me and sprints after Tate.

  “Get help!” he calls over his shoulder.

  My brain is all screwed up, and for a moment, I can’t move. Tate smashes his fist into the guy’s face and then gets him down on the ground.

  Fumbling in my apron, I get my phone and start to call 911, then stupidly realize that the sheriff is inside right now, enjoying the free appetizers at the hockey party. I drop my phone on the pavement and sprint toward the doors. I don’t even have to go inside; Roger is already outside, looking around for Tate, I assume.

  His eyes go wide when he sees me, and all he has to do is make one motion through the window and Sheriff Hammond is out here, sprinting ahead of us in the cold.

  Chapter 50

  –Tate–

  I can’t see anything but red. I ram my fist into the asshole’s face again. Maybe the red is his blood. I don’t fucking care.

  “You are so fucking dead.” I lay a punch into his stomach and he curls up and groans. Red is smeared all over my fist. Maybe his nose is bleeding? I don’t fucking care.

  “Okay, kid. Give it a rest,” Sheriff Hammond says, but I don’t listen.

  It takes both Leo and Roger to pull me off the guy, and even with both of them holding my arms, with Roger’s arm wrapped across my chest, preventing forward movement, I still manage to kick the sick bastard hard in the balls.

  Sheriff Hammond takes my place, tackling the guy, but less aggressively than I had. Maybe because he’s no longer moving. Good. Fucking good.

  Sheriff Hammond cuffs him and then presses two fingers to his neck.

  Why does this feel like my fault? I can’t think right now, can’t process the information properly to get an answer, but somewhere inside my head, I know it’s my fault.

  The guy attempts to roll over, his eyes focusing on me. The beer bottle smashes against the pavement over and over again inside my head.

  “Hey… Hey!” Sheriff Hammond says when I succeed in breaking away from both Roger and Leo.

  I get another kick in and then sink down, ready to tackle the guy again. He shouldn’t be awake. He shouldn’t be able to see straight.

  “Tate!” My mom’s voice rings from somewhere nearby.

  Then Jamie jumps in front of me, blocking my way. He’s bigger than Leo and harder to get around. Before I can figure it out, Roger is holding me back again, along with Leo.

  “Tate, stop!” My mom has moved closer; she’s tugging on my arm.

  Sheriff Hammond looks up at Claire, his foot still pressed on the asshole’s back. “What happened?”

  I relax for a second and stop fighting Roger and Leo. Claire is standing between both her parents. She’s shaking, her teeth chattering. My heart lurches.

  “He…he…” She swallows and then for
ces out the words clearly. “He grabbed me by the Dumpster. He covered my mouth, and when I got away, he grabbed me again from behind. Tate and Leo came out and they distracted him and I…I elbowed him and ran.”

  He touched her. He fucking touched her.

  Fury spills over again. I tear away from the guys holding me back, but they stop me again. From the corner of my eye, I see Davin O’Connor attempt to break away from his daughter and wife and head toward the bastard on the ground.

  Claire grabs his arm. “Dad, no!”

  I’m breathing so hard that spots are forming in front of my eyes. The anger won’t fade. I have to do something.

  A squad car pulls up in the parking lot, blocking the scene from others who have spilled out of the bar. Two male cops tell everyone to stay back. Another squad car comes barreling through and a female cop gets out and stands beside the sheriff.

  The dude on the ground turns his head again, and I swear to God he sneers at me. I kick and twist, trying to break free.

  Leo and Jamie both shove me hard and keep pushing until I’m seated on the bottom step of the staircase leading up to the apartment above the bar.

  Sheriff Hammond pulls the dude to his feet and looks over at me. “Relax, kid, justice will be served. I promise.”

  I try to stand, but Roger shoves me down again. “Forget justice. Toss him back onto the ground and get out of here. I’ll take care of him.”

  “Tate, enough!”

  I glance at my mom for a split second and do a double take. Her eyes are wide, hands covering her mouth. She looks absolutely petrified. Of me.

  My stomach sinks, a sick feeling washing over me. I let my eyes glaze over and watch everything move in front of me in a blur. Leo squats down and stares at me. “T-Man, shake out of this. It’s okay.”

  “Talk to me, man,” Jamie says, moving beside Leo. “You okay? Did you get hit?”

  I don’t know. I don’t remember. My hands are shaking. It’s freezing out here. Snow is underneath my butt. Jamie reaches a hand toward me, like he’s about to lay it on my shoulder. Some buried instinct causes me to scoot back, away from him. Away from anyone’s touch. What the hell did I just do?