Daydream (Maple Hills, #3)(7)
They tried everything from comparing me to everyone I suggested would be a better captain to saying I’d be the first Black hockey captain at Maple Hills. They dropped the latter when I said it was a damning snapshot of opportunities for people of color in hockey and not the win they were making it out to be.
The more my teammates pushed, the more others started. My moms, Anastasia… so many people told me they thought it was amazing, and how excited they would be to see what I could do. In the end, even though I still had my doubts, I accepted.
I don’t give in to peer pressure, but this is the one time I did, and look where it’s gotten me. Not only do I need to stress about letting the entire team down, but I also need to worry about letting down everyone not on the team, who, through no fault of my own, believes in me. It’s so hard having supportive friends and family who don’t immediately assume the worst.
* * *
“ANY SUCCESS?” RUSS ASKS AS I climb into his truck in the now-deserted parking lot.
“I’m fucked.”
“I’m sure it’s not that ba—”
“He told me I don’t get to quit or fail my classes and to find a solution.”
Russ sighs as he navigates us out of the empty lot. “Helpful. Look, it might not be as bad as you think the more practice you get. I’ll help you as much as I can, and so will Aurora. Next time, we can get our codes to register for classes together.”
I rest my head against the window as we pull up to a red light and wonder how I can possibly put into words that don’t make me seem unhinged that, short of a perfect set of circumstances all aligning to allow me to feel excited about the prospect of organizing my schedule, I’ll probably be in this mess again in January. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Rory is at the house with Robbie waiting to hang out, but if you need peace, we can go to her place,” he says softly as we turn onto Maple Avenue. “I don’t mind.”
I like living with Russ because he always seems to interpret a person’s mood without many words. I think it’s a skill born from the constant state of fear he was in when growing up with a dad who wasn’t nice to live with, but I don’t think it would be okay to ask him if he agrees with me outright. Especially since his dad is trying to be better and Russ is trying to give him a chance to prove himself.
“You don’t need to go anywhere. I like Aurora.”
I lift my head from the window in time to catch the small smile on his face. “She likes you, too.”
Russ changed a lot this summer when he was working at a sleepaway camp. He met his girlfriend, challenged his dad’s gambling addiction, and, while I don’t think he’s ever going to be the loudest person in the room, he’s more confident than he was.
As for Aurora, she’s not who I was expecting for Russ, but I think that’s a good thing. Russ likes her because she’s generous and kind, and he spent a long time feeling second best before he met her. He’s her number one, which isn’t me making assumptions: she says he’s her number one to literally anyone who will listen. There’s no room for doubt in his head that he is important to Aurora because she tells him, and boy is she loud.
I don’t like to compare my friends because they’re all different, but she’s the only one who doesn’t talk to me about hockey, which puts her pretty high up on my list given it feels like the only thing people ever want to ask me about now.
Trying to remember the last time someone asked me about one of my other interests makes the trip home quick. Before I realize where we are, Russ is pulling into the drive beside his girlfriend’s car.
Aurora looks up when I open the front door, but her eyes travel straight past me and the widest grin spreads across her face when she spots Russ. I feel like we just shipped one lot of girlfriends out, and immediately gained more.
She’s conventionally attractive—average height and build, suntanned white skin with green eyes and blond hair—but I don’t think she’d be very interesting to draw.
Russ is obviously very attracted to her, but they make an effort not to be loud about it, which I appreciate. I loved when Anastasia was living here, but she should have been charged with disturbing the peace.
“Are you okay, Henry?” Aurora asks as I drop into the recliner opposite her. “You look extra pensive today. Brooding, like the tortured artist you are.”
“Coach found out I got an F on that French Revolution essay,” I say as Russ leans in to kiss her temple.
“That blows, I’m sorry. Did you try to charm him?” she asks.
“I don’t know how to charm people on purpose, and even if I did, he’d be immune just to punish me. He thinks I should have academic superpowers because I picked up a hockey stick fifteen years ago.”
“I think you’re incredibly charming,” she says.
“Who has superpowers?” Robbie asks as he rounds the corner from his bedroom. He stops his wheelchair in the space between the couch and recliner, looking right at me. “Faulkner called. Apparently it’s my fault you didn’t sign up for your classes. Because apparently I’m psychic and I’m to blame for you fucking your way through California all summer instead of prioritizing your education. Even though I was busy graduating and, y’know, being in a different state.”