Page 2 of Forbidden Hockey

Hunter will not like that. He’s so fucking proud. Mom works two jobs, and he’s got a couple himself just to make ends meet. When he got out of high school, he went straight to full-time. A heavy sigh leaves my chest. I don’t know what the fuck to do.Honestly, I was gonna have to fight Hunter on the “get a job plan” anyway because he doesn’t want me having a job while I’m in school, even though he had one. Maybe I could convince him to take just a little charity in my favor. I know that if it were the other way around, he’d help Dash.

We can help, but we can’t be helped? That doesn’t make sense. It’s really nice of Dash’s dad, though. He doesn’t even know me.

Dash and I enjoy each other’s company without words, hands threaded in a grip that seals our fates—we’re forever bound. My ears strain to hear the sounds of the kids on the street below. I think it’s a street hockey game…

My eyes snap open. It’s almost dark.Shit.I’m gonna be in shit. I rub my eyes, shaking Dashie. That happens a lot for us—falling asleep when we get beside each other.

“C’mon. Sleep at my place tonight,” I say.

An angry voice calls out Dash’s name. His fingers curl and his body tenses. “Fuck.”

“Dash. Get your ass down here. Your mother’s worried sick about you.” Robin’s at the bottom of the hill. I guess the man’s mildly attractive. He’s a type, anyway. Shaved head, wiry muscles, a thin beard. But I still can’t figure out what his mom sees in him. I fucking hate the guy.

Even I know Dash’s mom isn’t worried about him, as shitty as that is, but Dash lights up, hopeful that maybe today she’s out of her drug-induced high. It does happen from time to time, so I guess I can see why he thinks it’ll happen again, but it’s not often. My heart cinches. He doesn’t see the fall waiting for him. My hands itch to take Dash away, far away from here, keep him hidden, keep him whole.

“Don’t go with him. Come with me.” Because fuck Robin. Robin acts like the unsung hero of their little family, but I know better.

Dash looks from me to Robin. He chews his lip, slowly standing, dusting off his shorts. The bite of a West Coast Canadian summer’s night lifts our arm hairs. Dash’s teeth chatter.

“Here, at least take my jacket.” He doesn’t have to say it, I know he’s not coming with me.

He slips my jacket on as he heads down the hill. Robin rests a hand on the back of his neck—I don’t fucking like it. But there isn’t much time to glare my face off at him, my ass is on the line if I don’t sprint the fuck home in the next five minutes.

Hunter’s waiting on the porch for me, jacket on, ready to head out on a Dirk hunt.

“Cutting it close, kid.”

“But I made it.” I lift a brow, not really sure. He said before dark. Technically, it’s dark even though it’sjustdark.

“Where’s your jacket?” he says instead of answering.

“I lent it to Dash.”

“I know he has his own jacket. If he’s not bringing his, he can be cold, and maybe that will remind him.”

I only brought mine because I knew Hunter would be on my case. There’s no one to be on Dash’s case. Not even Robin. Robin doesn’t give a fuck about the important shit, like keeping Dash warm.

“Leave it alone, Hunter.”

“I won’t. I paid good money for that jacket. What if he loses it?”

“Then I guess I won’t have a jacket.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” He huffs. “Just get in the fuckin’ house.”

It’s nine pm on a summer night. The rest of the teenagers are skulking around the neighborhood, getting into low-brow trouble, making memories. It’s where I’d be if Hunter weren’t on my ass all the time. Mom’s still not home from work. When shegets home—if she comes home—she’ll pass out hard. It woulda been soooo easy to sneak out on her non-existent watch if Hunter wasn’t so damn responsible.

I trudge inside and raid the fridge. Tonight’s probably a bad night to bring up the hockey thing, but there isn’t a whole lot of time.

My brother’s followed me, keeping a distance, gauging my mood. I drink straight from the milk carton, and he doesn’t scold me for it.

“I need money for hockey this year. Dash’s dad says he’ll fund us.” Blunt. Blunt’s the way you do things with Hunter.

“What? Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?”

“Because it’s not like we can fucking afford it, so Dash and I were coming up with a solution.”

Hunter’s eyes drag over me like they’ve been hauling bricks all day, lids heavy, the skin beneath them bruised with shadows. There’s a sag in his posture that says he’s already got enough on his plate. But the thing is, I get that, which is why he should let me take care of myself. I’m fifteen now, more than capable. He was already looking after me at fifteen.