Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
For a brief second, I think about heading back and apologizing but that would be completely out of character for me as well. Instead, I head to my car and get in. As soon as I back out, it hits me. I want to go back to the house and make sure none of those guys show up, but it’s not my place. When I pull out of the parking lot, I head toward the outskirts of town where my mom and sister live.
The mobile home park where I grew up is at the end of a long stretch of road which has nothing but stores, diners, and tourist attractions. It’s like time forgot this place when the city started building itself as a destination location. Not that I mind because it’s what my family can afford, but people who live here stick out like a sore thumb.
When I was growing up, the park was surrounded by woods. My mom used to say we were camping and told us every kid wished they could be like my sister and me. As I got older, the teasing started about us being poor and not being able to afford a real house. I tried to ignore the kids who taunted me, but it was hard. I started to act out. My mom took me to the Boys and Girls Club, thinking I’d find a big brother or something. Instead, I discovered hockey. Of course, I had to fall in love with one of the most expensive sports out there. My mom saw how much hockey meant to me and started working two jobs, until Mr. Betts, a local businessman who saw my potential, came along and sponsored me. The deal was: he would pay for hockey as long as I kept my grades up. I did just that and finished second in my class. After graduation, I worked the juniors circuit a bit until Northport offered me a full ride, in the terms of academic scholarships. The day I told my mom and Mr. Betts I was going to college for free was the best day of my life. Judging by their reaction, it was theirs too.
I drive slowly through the park, carefully avoiding the ruts and potholes and watching for children. The owner of the park is supposed to use the rent he charges to keep this place maintained. The road has been the same since I was a kid. I think in the time my mom has lived here I’ve seen a dump truck of dirt fill the holes maybe two or three times. In my opinion, the owner is a dirtbag, but the lot rent is cheap and it’s all my mom can afford until I sign a contract with the NHL.
A couple of kids holler my name. I wave and continue to move at a snail’s pace. This park has always been filled with little kids and while they have a place to play, the equipment is old and falling apart, and there’s always one kid who forgets to look both ways before dodging out into the road to chase their ball.
As I turn into my mom’s driveway, she’s stepping out onto the small deck. I built it over a couple summers with money I earned at odd jobs and in between practices. It’s not much, but it gives her a place to put flowers and to be able to sit outside.
“Hey, sweetie,” she says as I get out.
“Hey.” I kiss her cheek and take the seat next to her. My mom works hard but can never seem to get her head above water. She’s the first to admit she makes bad choices when it comes to her dating life, and she always seems to get stuck paying someone else’s bills. I don’t know how many times my sister and I have told her to stop letting her boyfriends move in and use her name on things, but it feels like a million. She’s a hopeless romantic—at least that’s what she tells us.
“How was your first day?”
“Like my last first day. Just a bunch of talking, passing out packets of papers, and professors going over what we’re going to learn.”
She pats my knee and sighs.
“Where’s Lacey?”
“Ally took her to the store for school supplies.”
“I told Ally I’d take Lacey shopping next week when I get my paycheck.”
Mom sighs again. “I don’t know why she won’t go after Lacey’s dad for some money.”
I want to laugh because my mom never went after my dad for anything. She let him leave us high and dry and said we were better off without him, which definitely wasn’t true. Growing up, I asked her a time or two where he went, and she’d give me an answer, but it was never the same. I stopped asking once I suspected my mom knew where our dad was the whole time. For whatever reason, she doesn’t want him around and I have to respect her wishes.