Little Lies(103)

I have to look away, because a million really inappropriate images pop into my head—like how things went down last night and the fact that I’m missing a strip of hair on both forearms thanks to the duct tape. I clear my throat.

“Apparently.” I’m still about two octaves higher than usual, and my face feels hot.

My dad laughs. “Oh, son, you are in trouble, aren’t you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smirks and reaches over to ruffle my hair. “Just make sure you’re being safe.”

“Jesus, Dad. We’re being safe. Mom says the same freaking thing every time I talk to her.”

“All it takes is one time without protection.”

“Yeah, well, you would know, wouldn’t you?” I point to myself.

I’m the product of an unplanned pregnancy. My parents had what they refer to as a “whirlwind romance” one summer in Alaska. Basically that means they had an extended hookup. My dad had to leave because of a family emergency, and they lost contact, but managed to find their way back to each other. By that time, I’d already been born.

“And I don’t regret it for a second, because if it wasn’t for you, there’s a good chance I wouldn’t have your mother in my life. But we were both older, and not just starting our lives. You and Lavender are young and finding your way, so don’t go complicating it with unplanned pregnancies.”

“Okay, can we change the subject, please? Because talking about how my existence came to be is really damn awkward.”

“It’s only awkward if you make it awkward, son.”

“No, it’s awkward because you’re talking about my mom in ways I’m not interested in thinking about.”

“Noted. How are you feeling about tomorrow?”

“Anxious. Excited. Terrified that I’ll have to sign with Vancouver and be halfway across the country while Lavender is back here. Just thinking about it makes my brain feel like it’s frying itself.”

He’s quiet for a minute before he finally says, “It isn’t easy, is it? Being able to see all the sides at the same time?”

“It’s maddening. Paralyzing. I run through every possible future path, and I can see exactly what could happen if I make the wrong choice. The only time I can shut everything else off and just exist is when I’m on the ice or with Lavender. I don’t want to have to give up one so I can have the other, but she’s not giving me an option. I feel like I’m going to lose her either way.” I rub my chest, trying to ease the ache.

“I know your tendency is to go to the worst-possible scenario, but let’s wait and see what happens tomorrow. Just because Vancouver has designs on you doesn’t mean there won’t be other options.”

I nod, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.

The house is a flurry of activity as soon as I walk in the door, with Aspen wanting to show me the robot she’s been designing and Dakota showing me all the ribbons he won at the track meet. I’m a full hybrid of my parents, both physically and mentally. But my sister is 100 percent a miniature version of our mom, and Dakota is my dad. They’re both a lot younger than me, Aspen a freshman in high school and Dakota in seventh grade.

Aspen is having a sleepover, so when her friend arrives, they rush up to her room, giggling and whispering. Dakota decides he needs to take his second shower of the day since he smells like four-day-old socks. My dad has to run out for a business meeting, but promises he’ll only be a couple of hours.

Once it’s just me and my mom, she goes into feed-the-growing-boy mode. I don’t mind the doting. She and I have always been tight—having the same kind of brain and the same worries can do that.

She leans on the counter across from me. “How are you doing?”

I shrug. “I should be excited, but mostly I’m scared.” I fill her in on Lavender’s ultimatum. Threat. Whatever it is.

My mom covers my hand with her much smaller one and squeezes. “She’s a smart girl.”

I nod. “I know she’s right, but I don’t want her to be.”

She props her chin on her clasped hands. “Life is not a series of all-or-nothing decisions, Kody. If the roads we travel were all straight with no bumps or twists and turns along the way, we wouldn’t appreciate the ups between the downs and the easy-to-navigate stretches.”

“What if I’m only allowed to have hockey or Lavender, not both?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I tried so hard not to love her.” I look down at the counter. “It’s like she engraved herself on my heart when we were kids. I couldn’t not love her. So I tried everything I could to make her hate me. I said and did such horrible, hurtful things.”

“Has she forgiven you for that?”

“Yeah.”

“But you haven’t forgiven yourself?”

I shrug.

My mom pats my cheek and forces me to look at her. “You’re a good person, with a good heart, and you love intensely. Sometimes that level of love can be confusing and frightening, and we fight against it as a result. But Lavender sees you, just like you see her. She’s already granted you grace. It’s your turn to do the same.”


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The weekend is pretty damn stressful, but at least I’m not in it alone, since Maverick is in the same position. Interestingly enough, the fact that I’m now living with his sister hasn’t affected our friendship. Obviously there is absolutely no locker-room-style talk, but I was never really one to do that anyway, and neither is he.