September 3

Another glance at the tied up scoreboard told me there were only nine minutes left in the last period of the game. The other team had called timeout, and now everyone was just standing around the bench, waiting for the referees to blow the whistle and signal that the game was ready to start again. As I leaned with my elbows over the boards and stared down at the tiled rink below my borrowed skates, a movement on the left caught my eye, and a second later my best friend, Victoria, bumped me with her hip. Through the steel cage of her helmet she gave me a knowing smile, and then turned around to lean her back against the boards.

"So, J, what do you think?" she asked me as she pulled at her jersey, which read Cyclones on the front, and because of the sweat had begun to stick to her stomach.

I turned to mirror her position, and glanced out over the rink before answering, "I wish you'd told me this was a tournament."

Victoria and I had been friends since grade school. Normally she and some of the other girls that were hovering around the boards played scrimmage games at an ice rink nearby. She was the one who'd taught me to skate, and since she'd always played hockey I'd always hung around and, more often than not, joined in on the pickup games. Even though they usually practiced at an ice rink, roller hockey was the first love for each of them. When Victoria had called me this morning telling me her team needed an extra player, I thought she'd meant for a scrimmage. Little did I know that her and the other players had rallied together a bunch of extra inline gear for me to sub in at this tournament.

"It's just a small tourney," she justified, blue eyes betraying her internal laughter as she absentmindedly slid the blade of her hockey stick across the floor.

I rolled my eyes as both of our gazes drifted to the world outside the boards. There were three rinks at this outdoor facility, each one occupied by a tournament game. After already playing five games throughout the day, we'd made it to the championship, and this was the last women's game of the weekend. Still, the stands of each rink were filled, with more people standing along the outside to watch through the glass. Loud music could be heard filtering over the boards from the booth of a radio station that had showed up just for the occasion, and plenty more booths lined the walkways between rinks to occupy the hoards of people who weren't watching a game. It may have been a small tournament by Victoria's standards, but for the first real game I'd ever played, it was pretty damn big.

"Hey, Jordan." The coach tapped me on the shoulder to get my attention, so I turned to look at him, eagerly awaiting any advice he could offer. "Don't look so nervous," he laughed. "You're doing good, I just need you to do one thing for me." I nodded, patiently waiting for the tip. "You're fast and you've got good hands, use it to get goals instead of penalties, okay?"

My cheeks colored red, but I laughed anyway. That was his advice? Sure, I'd played more than enough scrimmage games with the team to be able to hold my own in a high level tournament, but I didn't have the experience to know what kind of hits were considered dirty or not, especially since you couldn't check in roller hockey like you could in ice hockey. For that, I'd earned two penalties. One more and I'd get kicked out. So… maybe his advice was pretty sage.

One of the refs blew his whistle and made his way down the rink to the right faceoff circle near our goal. Along with the other players, I pushed myself off the boards and coasted to the circle, taking my place on the hash mark just outside it. One of the other team's forwards took the spot directly in front of me, practically placing the blade of her stick on top of mine. Before leaning over into position, I scanned each of the players on the rink. Even after only two periods, I'd learned which players on the other team to look out for. Which ones were the goal scorers and which ones were most likely to take my head off and get away with it.

Another thing I'd had to adjust to after playing so many ice games with Victoria was the number of players on the rink in a roller game. I'd always assumed five and a goalie was standard, but in these inline games I learned the number was reduced to four and a goalie. It came as a bit of a shock at first, but I couldn't say I minded. Less players on the rink meant less people to watch out for. It also meant there was more room to skate and pull off stunts that were harder to do during an ice game.

The referee pointed at the other team's goalie on the far end of the rink and, receiving a nod, looked to our goalie. When she nodded too he held the black puck over the faceoff circle, and a second later dropped it. The two players' sticks clashed in the center for only a moment before the puck went flying to one of the other team's defenders, who was waiting near the boards in the middle of the rink. The second she felt it hit her stick she received it and sent it across to the defender on the opposite side. I was already on my way to the second player that received the puck, and by the time she got it I was nearly three quarters of the way there.

She held the puck on her blade, cradling it near the boards with her eyes darting from me to the other players on her team, waiting for either someone to open up for a pass or for me to get there so she could try to skate around me. It was clear by the speed I'd already picked up that I was going to get to her first. Goals, not penalties, I reminded myself as I neared striking distance. The look on her face said she thought I was going to hit her, and her body tensed when I drew near. Instead, I stretched my stick across her body to hers, and hit the puck backwards as I flew by her.

I'd hit the puck hard enough to knock it over her stick, and I picked it up as I continued with it, alone, toward the other team's goalie. The goalie coasted forward, squaring up and making herself large in the net. I was at the top of the circles in front of the net now, so I brought my stick back with the puck and cruised left. The goalie followed my every move, shifting to the side with me. Finally, with a flick of my wrist I released the puck, but instead of sending it to the left side of the net like I'd been lined up to do, I angled my stick to shoot at the top right corner. My breath nearly caught in my throat as it sailed through the air, and then I sighed with disappointment when it hit the post with a loud ding, which deflected it up into the safety net above the boards.

With the puck hitting the net the referees had to blow the whistle, and when we heard the coach shout 'switch' each of us made our way back to the bench. Upon sitting, Victoria grabbed her water bottle, and squirted it through the cage of her helmet and into her mouth before handing it over to me. I did the same, squirting toward my face and purposefully spilling some of it down the front of my jersey. At first the icy fluid stung as it hit my chest, but after I got over the initial shock I grinned at how cooling it was.

"That girl is pissing me off." One of the players I was familiar with, Holly, fell onto the bench next to me and pulled off her helmet, mopping her short black hair away from her forehead before sticking it back on.

"Which one?" I asked, leaning forward and glancing onto the other team's bench. Then I pulled a hand out of my glove and grabbed the ponytail of my long, straight blonde hair to throw it over my shoulder.

"The forward." She nodded discreetly toward the other team's offensive side. "Number eighteen."

Victoria leaned over from the other side of me and glared at her. "Holly, you get in a fight with her every other game. I swear to God if we lose because you get a penalty, I'll kick your ass."

I couldn't help but smirk. Between Victoria and I, she was definitely the hot head, but she was nothing compared to some of the other girls on the team. I'd never gone to watch any of their inline games before, but all too often Victoria would complain about how many fights would break out, especially between them and the team we were playing now, the Misconducts. And if I was counting correctly, Holly also had two penalties. One more and she was done.

"I'm going to kick her ass if I feel her stick clip my wheels again," Holly grumbled. "No joke, she's just waiting until the ref can't see so she can trip me."

It was obvious Victoria had something else lined up to say, but the whistle cut her off, and yelling 'switch,' the coach pushed us off the bench. This time I took the faceoff, which once again started down near our goal. I'd have been more comfortable if the puck ended up in the other team's zone more often, but all rivalry aside, they were good, and they controlled the play a majority of the time. The Misconducts forward took place directly in front of me, and as the ref skated over we prepared for the faceoff.

The ref threw the puck down between us, and instead of going in and battling with her for it, the moment it hit the ground I knocked her stick out of the way with my own, leaving the target open for less than a second, which was more than enough for me to go back in and get it. With the puck on my blade I whizzed past her, skating up the boards while my other forward went up with me near the center of the rink. She had someone right behind her, but her stick was open so I shot her a pass. When it hit her tape she came to an abrupt stop, and unprepared for it the defender who'd been following blew right past her. Now open she sent the puck back to me, and I was getting close enough to the net that I had to start thinking about my shot.

There was just one more obstacle, a defender who'd been skating backwards ahead of me, just waiting for me to get closer so she could take a jab at the puck. Knowing I had to pull some kind of move to go around her, I did the one that I'd practiced tons of times during scrimmage games. As I neared her, I led with the puck and faked going around her to the right, but at the last second I brought the puck in between her stick and body over to the left, and pushed it forward with my backhand while my body continued right. The normal reaction to the move was for the defender to become momentarily flustered, giving me a chance to get by and score a goal. Only, this defender didn't seem fazed. She followed my body, and when I tried to skate around her to the right she stepped right in front of me, putting a glove on my chest so she could block my path.

I was going to try and backtrack to see if I could skate around her before the other team's second defender had a chance to pick up the puck, but I paused at the sound of a thunderous thud against the boards, followed by a familiar voice shouting, 'fucking bitch!' At the hooting of a few whistles I turned to catch sight of the refs trying to separate a very angry Holly from number eighteen, and I instantly rushed over to lend a hand. I put my arm in front of Holly, who was still charging an equally furious forward, and tried to lead her away, while the girl who'd just stopped me from scoring tried to get her own teammate away from the fight.

When Holly realized she wasn't getting anywhere near the girl, she turned her rage to the referees. "Hey asshole, you didn't see her trip me? What fucking game are you watching?"

My head shot up at the sound of her talking back, and I wished she wasn't wearing a face cage so I could shove a hand over her mouth. The Misconducts' defender looked just as shocked, because her brown eyes met mine, and they shot me a hard look as if to say 'keep her in line'.

I tugged the side of my mouth into an apologetic half-smile at the defender, and pulled Holly harder toward the bench. "Dude, calm the hell down."

"Hey, hey, hey," the ref called after us, and I stopped to see what he wanted. He was pointing toward the exit of the rink. "She's out."

"Son-of-a-bitch," Holly growled, quite loudly, as she pulled away from my grasp and made her way to the exit. When she reached it she turned around to shout more parting words to the officials. "Get your goddamn eyes checked will you?"

Curious how the other team's defender had gotten her player to settle down so easily, I glanced over as I made my way back to my own bench, where everyone else had gathered. I wasn't able to catch her trick though, because the girl, whose jersey read 'Becks' with the number sixty-four on the back, was already leaned over the boards, listening to her coach talk.

The second I got back to my own bench the same ref skated to the scorekeeper's box, which separated the benches of the two teams. "Number three," he called over the glass to the scorekeeper, "Two minutes, roughing. Two minutes, unsportsmanlike." Then he made his way over to our coach. "I need someone to serve the penalty."

Every girl on my team groaned. Holly had earned a four-minute penalty, and by now there were less than four minutes left in the game. Seeing as I was the newest player, and no one else wanted to do it, I started for the box. "I'll serve it."

The boxes sat next to each team's bench and were separated by glass, and when the game picked back up Victoria came over and pressed her mouth to the corner so she could talk to me. "They're going to score now. I'm going to have to kick Holly's ass."

"I'm not serving your penalty too," I teased, and then to make conversation I looked out into the bleachers. "Is Austin here now?" I scanned the full area outside the rink for Victoria's boyfriend, but I couldn't see him amidst the crowd of people.

She nodded and followed my gaze to the area where she, too, had to search. "He got off work right before this game. He should be out there somewhere."

Another whistle accompanied by uproarious cheers from the crowd caused both Victoria and I's heads to turn, and then slump when we saw that the other team had scored, breaking the tie with only two minutes left in the game, and making the score four to three.

"Told you," Victoria said with a shake of her head. Her spirits picked up rapidly though as she looked at me with a grin on her face. "So, coach says he wouldn't mind you playing for us from now on."

"Vic," I whined. It wasn't that I didn't like playing, it was actually even more fun than the scrimmage games, but almost every bit of gear I was wearing was borrowed, which meant in order to play I'd have to buy new stuff.

"J," she copied sternly, raising her eyebrows and challenging me to complain.

"I can't afford to buy all this gear."

"We're like… halfway sponsored." That earned a laugh on my part, and she glared. "No seriously, you'll get pants, jerseys, and gloves for free. I have some shin guards that I don't use anymore, and nobody really wears elbow pads. You already have a stick. All you need to get is skates and a helmet." Then she batted those big blue eyes at me and gave an innocent smile. "Please."

I was about to protest, knowing that skates were pretty expensive, but then I remembered that the hockey rink Victoria worked at had a pro shop. "Only," I started with a sigh, "If you can get me a discount on gear."

The grin on her face grew bigger than I thought it possibly could, and as the buzzer for the end of the game went off I nearly thought she was going to come over the penalty box wall and hug me. Luckily, she saved me the embarrassment, and we all made our way to the center of the rink to go down the line and shake hands with our opponents. After that we waited around on the rink while the announcer called all of our names and gave us our second place, fake silver medals, and then had to wait a little more while he gave the gold medals to the other team. Then we were released to the locker room.

"Second place bitches!" one of the girls shouted excitedly as she simultaneously ripped off her jersey and plopped onto one of the benches that lined the walls of the locker room.

Everyone laughed while another girl, Charlie, pulled a case of beer out of her hockey bag, not at all to my surprise since I'd already adjusted to their habit of drinking after scrimmage games. She held up a can and made shushing noises until she had everyone's attention. "First beer goes to Holly." She tossed the can across the room to Holly, who'd been sitting in the locker room waiting since she'd been kicked out of the game. "For hit of the night, girl, that shit was epic!"

Charlie then proceeded to throw cans of beer to every player in the room, but stopped a throw short when she came to the last, and youngest, player. "Hey, wait, you're not twenty-one. More for me."

I couldn't help but chuckle at Charlie's teasing. The youngest player on the team, Morgan, was only nineteen, but I'd seen the girl drink after scrimmage games plenty of times, and none of the other players, especially Charlie, seemed to mind. So the teen dropped her jaw, offended, and held out a hand for the beer. "Give me the beer, Charlie." Charlie held the can in front of her, eyes locked on the younger girl and smirk growing wider by the second as she inched her finger toward the tab to open it. "Charlie!" Morgan yelled, shout interrupted by a laugh.

The tip of Charlie's finger slid under the tab, but before she had a chance to pop it up the girl pounced on her, wrapping her arms around Charlie's neck and taking them both to the ground. As they wrestled over the drink that Charlie still held tight, the coach walked in, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand as he took in the scene before him.

"If you guys practiced half as much as you partied," he started, a smile breaking his scowl, "We might actually take gold."

As if to deliberately ignore his comment, another girl named Linda pulled out her cell phone and put on dance music as loud as the volume would go. At the sound, a few other girls, who by this time had their skates and jerseys off, got up and started dancing. The coach just rolled his eyes and leaned against the door of the locker room, patiently waiting to see if anyone would listen to him.

"Come on, coach." One of the girls grinned, trying to get him to dance with them.

He shook his head, so another girl chimed in. "Yeah, Nick, come on. You won silver too, you know. You should celebrate."

Again he rolled his eyes. "I'm too old for this." And with that he pushed open the door, laughing as he left us in the locker room.

The girl who'd started the music, Linda, shrugged indifferently as he left, and sitting back down she lowered the volume. "It's lady's night at The L. Who's down?"

Cheers went up from a majority of the girls in the room, and only two shook their heads. "It's twenty-one and up, jerk." The youngest player sipped on the beer she'd wrestled from Charlie and gave our teammate a playful glare.

The other girl who shook her head gave a shrug when Linda looked at her questioningly. "I've got church in the morning."

"Wow," Linda mumbled disappointedly, and then glanced over at Victoria and I. "Vic? Jordan? How about you?"

By this time I'd finished taking off all my gear, and was in the process of putting my short shorts back on when Linda invited us. I beamed as I finished tugging them and then my flannel shirt on, and gave an excited nod. "I'm in." Then as I pulled my hair back into a messy ponytail I gave Victoria a look that told her she had better say 'yes.'

Even though I shot her the look, I knew she liked dancing as much as I did, so it didn't take long for her to nod in agreement. "Yeah, sure, I'll go."

Victoria was ready to leave as I pulled on my sneakers, so I chugged the rest of the beer Charlie had given me and tossed it in the trash. Austin was outside the locker room waiting for us when we left, and he came over to give Victoria a kiss hello.

"What, no hug?" she joked as we continued to walk out to the parking lot.

He grabbed her hand affectionately, but winced at the thought of a hug. "You're all sweaty."

"Wimp," Victoria chuckled. "Hey, we're going to The L."

"Okay." Austin shrugged, and then tossed his head to get his long brown hair out of his matching brown eyes. "You going too, Jordan?"

I adjusted the straps of the enormous hockey bag I had draped over my back as I nodded. The rest of the walk to the parking lot I let Victoria and Austin have their moments. When we finally got there I opened the trunk of my black sedan and threw the bag into it, then put my stick into the back seat. I was about to get in when Victoria, who'd parked right in front of me, waved to get my attention.

"Hey," she called, already halfway in her car. "We'll follow you to your sister's and then all drive together in my car."

I raised an eyebrow, even though she probably couldn't see it under the dim of the streetlamp. "Okay, but why don't we just go straight to the club?"

"Because anytime you get drunk you end up going home with some random girl," she said, mouth turning up in a smirk. "At least this way, tomorrow I don't have to drive to pick you up and take you all the way back there to your car. I can just pick you up and take you home."

I was about to protest the change in pattern, but then I realized she was right. Instead, I gave a playfully flattered grin. "You're such a good friend."

"Yeah, yeah." She waved me off and finished getting into her car.

Following the plan, I drove the eight minutes to my sister's apartment and parked in my usual spot on the street. Part of me wished there was time to go upstairs for a quick shower, but I couldn't keep Victoria and Austin waiting, so giving up that wish I jumped into the back seat of her car. The ride was quiet for a few minutes, all except for the radio, which played quite loudly from the front seat, until Austin turned around to face me.

"Let me ask you something," he started, pulling at his seatbelt so he could turn all the way around. "What's your secret?" I chuckled at the glare Victoria shot him, but my dark blue eyes must have shown my confusion. "Pimp much?"

I laughed even harder now as Victoria's glare turned into a full-blown grimace, but Austin pretended not to notice. "I don't know." I shrugged. "Everybody loves a cute lesbian?"

"Yeah, that's true," Austin agreed dazedly, eyes glazing as if he was daydreaming. He smirked when Victoria caught his tone and pretended she was going to punch him in the arm. "Just kidding, babe. But seriously, I was just wondering, because you're single and you get laid more than I do." This time Victoria did hit him, and he mouthed the word 'ow' as he rubbed out his arm.

My mouth dropped, and my voice gained a teasingly surprised tone. "Vic, do you use sex as leverage?"

"No," she growled quietly, though in the glare of the dashboard's lights I could see her cheeks tint to almost the same color as her auburn-red hair. I almost snorted with laughter when Austin turned just enough to nod his head at me, earning another glare from the girl beside him.

"Sorry, bud, not everyone's as charming as me." I patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. Then I leaned forward as if to whisper in his ear, but spoke loud enough so Victoria could still hear. "But, here's a little tip. Vic loves back rubs. Quickest way into her pants." I winked at him. Now Victoria turned to scowl at me, but I was having too much fun embarrassing her to stop. "Seriously, she could hardly keep 'em on for me, and you know how straight she is."

He was laughing hard now, and he grinned excitedly as he pounded his fist against mine. "Thanks for the advice."

"Oh my God." Victoria covered her face with one of her hands, shaking her head in exasperation. "How about I just drop you two off at the club so you can pick up chicks together?"

Teasing even further, I shrugged and nodded, but Austin leaned over and pulled her head to plant a rough kiss on her cheek. "You know I love you." Victoria smiled happily now that Austin wasn't picking on her, but she'd done it too soon. "Besides, what luck would I have at a gay club?" I tried to stop a snicker, which only ended up coming out in a snort, and Victoria gave a defeated sigh.

We arrived at the club a few minutes later, and after waiting in line outside for about twenty minutes made it in. Since Austin agreed to be the designated driver, the first place Victoria and I hit was the bar. Then, after finding a few of the girls from our team, we danced for a couple hours. Going back to the bar every once in a while for another shot, it didn't take long until I had a bit more than a pleasant buzz going on. Eventually we split from the rest of the group, and after a little while longer I split from Victoria and Austin, but that didn't stop me from dancing and making the occasional trip back to the bar.

September 4

I woke the next morning feeling like I hadn't just woken up on my own, but was unable to figure out exactly what caused me to stir. It wasn't the unfamiliar ceiling I was staring at now, or the silky green sheets that felt pleasantly and surprisingly cooling against my naked body. It could have been the mild hangover that materialized in the form of a pounding against my temples. I lay there for a minute, trying to figure out what it was. The feel of the sheets was inconsistent across my hips, and thinking that might have been it, I slid my hand beneath the covers until I reached skin, not mine. I carefully peeled back the covers to reveal a bare, slender leg, draped delicately over me.

I remembered enough from the night before not to be shocked at finding myself with company, or in somebody else's house for that matter. It wasn't the leg that had woken me either, but it did catch my attention now. With my eyes I followed the smooth skin up to a feminine pair of hips, then a waist, a shoulder, to a gentle face half-covered by light brown hair. She's cute, I thought to myself, and almost jumped out of my skin at a vibrating beneath my back. That's what had woken me up! Trying not to wake the girl beside me, I reached my arm underneath me and pulled out my phone.

"Wakey, wakey." The text from Victoria flashed across the display, and I unlocked the touch screen to find that she'd texted me three more times before I'd woken up.

I checked the time before messaging her back. 8:30 – a little too early if you ask me. "Morning," I responded, and then as smoothly as possible eased the leg off of me.

A light groan made me pause, but when the girl shifted herself away I sighed with relief and silently pushed myself off the bed. It took a minute to find my clothes amongst the scattered articles on the floor, but eventually I managed, and I was just pulling on my shorts when the phone vibrated in my hand.

"Where you at? I'll come get you."

Tiptoeing out of the room, I strolled down the short hall of the one-bedroom apartment to the kitchen and living room. Hoping to find what I was looking for, I made my way to the kitchen, eyes scanning every inch of the counter. A smile creased my lips when I glimpsed the pile of mail sitting neatly in the corner, and I hopped up to sit on the countertop as I picked out the first envelope. So, your name is Kristen. Below the brunette's name was the information I was looking for.

I unlocked my phone and pulled up my text messages. "136 Shady Street. Huntington Beach."

After hitting send I hopped off the counter and patted myself down in order to check my pockets. I was happy to find that my wallet was still in my shorts and I didn't have to risk going back into the bedroom to get it. I was on my way out the door when my bare foot his a sneaker. Oh shit, shoes. That's what I was forgetting. The one I'd stepped on was mine, so where was the other? Knowing me I'd kicked them wildly any which direction the second I made it through the door. Under the coffee table? No. Back in the kitchen? No. Under the couch? Nope. Ah-hah! On top of the couch. I grabbed my shoe from off the back of the couch, vaguely wondering how I'd managed to get it up there in the first place, and sat down to pull it on.

As I hit the cushion my phone vibrated in my pocket, so I pulled it out to read Victoria's text. "Thanks for picking somewhere close this time :P. GPS says be there in 5."

Before getting up to leave I took a brief glance around. The small apartment was nice enough. A flat screen TV hung on the wall opposite me, and directly below it was a small bookshelf with various pictures on it instead of books. The coffee table at my knees caught my attention. That had a book on it. I turned the book so that the title was facing me and read it. Ethics of Medicine. So Kristin's pre med, not bad. I pushed the book away from me with my index finger, scolding myself for even taking a curious peek. I wished I had the guts to stay for a cup of coffee, especially on those mornings I woke up with a pounding head, but I could never get over that I thought it would be awkward to stick around. Usually a name was the most I wanted to know, and I didn't want any obligation beyond that. Not a second meeting. Not a phone call. Not even a text. What did Victoria call it? Emotionally unavailable.

The door clicked shut behind me, and I strolled down the stairs to the first floor. The second I left the indoor building I had to shield my eyes with a groan, since the brightness of the sun caused my head to throb, but after a few moments I got used to it, and squinting was enough to ease the pain. I had to pause at the exit and look around, my eyes scanning the area around me for the likely place Victoria would drive to. The apartment complex was two buildings set perpendicular to each other, and I'd left through an exit that put me smack dab in the middle of them. The complex's only parking lot stretched wide in front of the two buildings, so I made my way to the edge and sat down on the curb.

A few minutes later the glimmer of a light blue car making its way through the lot prompted me to stand, and when Victoria pulled up I jumped into the front seat. "Morning sunshine!" she beamed at me loudly. My ears were ringing for seconds after she finished her greeting, and whining from the annoyance I waved her off. "Have a good night?" she asked, her tone sympathetically lower as she drove away from the curb.

"Mhm." I pulled the seatbelt across my chest and buckled it with a click. "Thanks for picking me up."

"Drive-through coffee?" she suggested, to which I nodded as vigorously as my aching head would allow, letting her see my lips turn up into a wide grin. "Really, how was your night?"

"It was good," I told her, and then knowing the look I was getting, laughed at her raised eyebrow. "No, I'm not giving you any details."

"Fine," she sighed, and after a moment glanced at me carefully. "You know, you should get a girlfriend."

With that I shrugged. "What do I need a girlfriend for?"

Victoria mirrored my shrug as she took a moment to think. I could tell by the look on her face she was being careful what to say, but I also knew I didn't like this conversation. Not now, and not the other hundred times we'd had it. But patient as I was, I was going to let her say her piece. "So you didn't do this to yourself anymore."

Okay, that line was new. The sincerity in her voice actually made my heart drop. "What do you mean?" I gulped.

"You know what I mean," she said softly, timidly, as she shot me a side-glance, hoping I wouldn't be mad. I wasn't mad. I was thrown, and I'd admit it a little bit offended. I could've easily guessed she didn't entirely approve of my methods of seduction, but she'd never actually said it before. "Your parents were wrong-"

Now I waved my hands in the air, stopping her midsentence. "Please, Vic, don't practice any of your psychology stuff on me right now. I'm hung-over, I'm tired, and I'm really not in the mood to talk about my mommy and daddy issues." Even though my waving was frantic, my tone was verging on pleading.

"It's not practicing when I know what I'm talking about," she tried to jest, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing the slight smirk that tugged at the corner of my mouth. "I know." She finally nodded, and out of the corner of my eye I could see her chest rise and fall in another sigh. "I just worry about you sometimes. You're so," she paused for a thoughtful breath, "Emotionally unavailable."

That phrase was grating. It hit my ears like nails on a chalkboard, and they just kept biting that chalkboard over and over again. Anger wasn't a choice emotion for me, but I came damn close. Victoria must have been able to tell, because she gave the cutest, most sheepish smile she could. "I'm sorry. I love you." Then she batted her eyes at me, just like she always did when she wanted something. "Don't kill me."

"I'm not emotionally unavailable," I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.

I wasn't planning on giving a response other than that, since I really didn't want to talk about it, and luckily I didn't have to, because Victoria pulled into the coffee shop drive-through. When she got to the intercom she rolled down her window and waited for the employee's voice to come through.

"Hi, could I get two small coffees, and," she paused and looked over at me, trying to judge if I could stomach food.

"Carbs," I told her as I eyed the menu. "Lots of carbs."

She laughed and turned back toward the intercom. "And two bagels with cream cheese."

As she pulled around to the window I grabbed my wallet out of my back pocket and handed her my debit card. She looked like she was going to protest, so I shoved it into her hand. "For picking me up." At that she shrugged and took the card, handed it the cashier, and then received our items. "How was your night?" She handed me the food and my coffee, and I took out her bagel to begin spreading cream cheese on it.

"It was fine," she answered, eyes growing increasingly hungry as she watched me prepare her food. When I finally I handed it to her she took a big bite.

"What time did you guys leave?" Now it was time to spread cream cheese on my bagel, and I scraped out every last bit possible.

Victoria gulped down what must've been half of her food before I took my first bite. "Right around the time you left with…"

"Kristen," I supplied through a full mouth, and then washed down the bite with some coffee, wincing as it scalded my tongue. "When are you going to get me some cheap hockey gear?"

"I like how the only time I can get you to come to the rink I work at is so you can get discounted stuff." She laughed when I shrugged, unable to come up with a good excuse. "How about Friday?"

A familiar apartment track came into view as Victoria rounded the corner, and she pulled up to the sidewalk near the closest building. When she stopped I jumped out of the car, turning around to lean against the doorframe. "Okay, Friday. Thanks for the ride."

She nodded and waved. "See you on campus tomorrow."

I trudged to my sister's apartment, which was on the first floor of this building, and dug through my pocket for my keys. The front door opened up to the living room, which was only half-separated from the kitchen by a tall, long counter. On the left side of the main room a TV sat on an entertainment center against the wall, and a coffee table and black leather sofa rested in front of it. At the right side of the living room was the hallway that led to the bathroom and two bedrooms.

When I walked in my twenty-six year old sister's light head of dirty-blonde hair popped up from looking at something in the kitchen, and her blue eyes locked onto me as I strolled to the dining table. "Where have you been?" she asked shortly. "You could text me if you're spending the night out so I don't worry."

"Sorry," I mumbled, plopping into a chair and sipping my still hot coffee. I didn't mind if she acted annoyed. She tried to play mom every once in a while to let me know she cared.

"I don't care if you are twenty-one-"

"Two, Jamie," I interrupted with a chuckle. "I'm twenty-two."

She sighed like that was beside the point, and to her, it really was. "I don't care if you're twenty-two-"

"Honey?" A deep, sleep-bogged voice filtered from the hall, interrupting her again. "Where'd you go?"

"In the kitchen," she called, glancing at me as her face turned crimson.

I raised my eyebrows at her, gawking in offense. "Don't act like you missed me last night," I teased, laughing now as the shade of her cheeks darkened.

The male voice, belonging to Cameron, was more than familiar. Jamie and him had dated for three years before he finally popped the question a couple months ago. I was a little surprised to find he'd spent the night, since sleepovers were usually held at his apartment. That was because despite the fact that I wasn't a kid anymore, it seemed Jamie still felt the need to protect me, even from knowing that her and her fiancé did the dirty, hence the blush.

Jamie ignored my comment and looked me up and down. "Did you play hockey yesterday?" I nodded, and her mouth pursed in disgust. "Did you even shower yet?" A mischievous grin spread across my face, and shaking my head I widened my arms, preparing for a hug. "Don't even think about it," she warned, slowly starting to back away. I stood up from my seat, arms still stretched wide, and inched closer. "Jordan, don't you dare." Fortunately, I was blocking the only way out of the kitchen and she was trapped. I rushed forward to wrap my arms around her, and even though she's a couple inches taller than me, picked her up and squeezed her. "Jordan!" she shrieked, desperately fighting against me and trying to wriggle out of my grasp.

"What is going on out here?" Cameron staggered out of the hallway, short brown hair going every which direction and rubbing his half-closed gray eyes. All he had on was a pair of sweatpants and socks, and he rested his bare arms on the kitchen counter, smiling when he saw the assault on Jamie. "Oh, hey, Jordan."

I grinned at him and, deciding that my sister had had enough torture, released her from the hug. "You smell like sweat and booze," she grumbled angrily, straightening up and flattening out her t-shirt and pants with a disgusted look on her face, before turning her gaze on Cameron. "Babe, go put a shirt on."

He sighed and slowly pulled his arms off the counter.

"I don't mind!" I told Jamie, laughing as her face once again turned red, this time because of her half-naked beau. "Cameron's my inspiration to stay in shape."

"Hey, thanks, J." He grinned his appreciation, but turned back toward the bedroom anyway, flexing as he made his way down the hall. Cameron had been a swimmer in high school, but loved it so much he continued to swim every morning, which gave him his lean, muscular figure. I'd decided years ago that if I were a guy, I'd want to look like him.

When Cameron disappeared, Jamie turned her eyes back on me, waiting for me to do something. I knew she was watching me, but instead of making eye contact I glanced around the room. My eyes hit the coffee table in front of the couch, and curious, I made my way over. It was littered with pictures, ninety-five percent of them being of a small blond toddler, with enormous blue eyes and barely a full set of teeth smiling happily at the camera. As I sunk into the couch I grabbed one of the pictures, lightly running my fingers over the child's face while Jamie sat down next to me.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly, hand resting gently on my back. "I was going to clean up last night, but-"

"No," I stopped her, and set the picture down to pick up another. "I want to see them. Please, don't ever hide them from me." I stared at the new image I held in my hands, fighting the sting of a tear in my eye. "His hair is getting so long."

The toddler in the pictures I only knew from photographs, usually just tiny ones in Jamie's phone. I'd come out to my parents the day after I turned eighteen, and had waited so long to do it because I could've predicted their reactions. I knew they'd be disappointed, and definitely angry, but I hadn't prepared myself for being kicked out. Not even legal adulthood could have prepared me for the pain of being disowned by the only people life guarantees should always love you. Fortunately for me, Jamie had known about it for a long time, and since she was older she was already moved out, and welcomed me with open arms.

At the time I was kicked out, my mother was two months pregnant. It was hard hearing Jamie talk all the time about how round she was getting and about all the possible baby names. Just like Jamie would get to, I wanted nothing more than to see him, to watch him grow up and spoil him with toys and hugs. So when our little brother, Justin, was born, I assumed seven months of no contact had been long enough for my parents to get over the fact that I was gay. Only, I was wrong. When I'd tried to visit soon after his birth they closed the door in my face, angrily telling me they didn't want their son anywhere near a pervert. All I'd ever seen of Justin was photographs and the occasional home video. For the last four years I'd had to watch him grow through pictures.

"He's starting preschool tomorrow." Jamie smiled, picking up another picture and studying it fondly. "He's so excited."

I laughed, having to cover my mouth with my hand as it nearly came out a sob, and hastily wiped away a tear that had forced its way out. "He doesn't even know I exist."

"Now, that's not true," Jamie said, and grinned proudly when I cast her a curious, watery-eyed look. "I make sure I mention you. Mom hates it when I do," she paused to wrap her arm around my shoulders and pull me into a hug, "But I want him to know about his other big sister."

I leaned into her as another tear fell. "You're the best."

"When Mom cuts the cord enough to let me babysit," she started, rubbing my arm and then releasing me from the hug, "I'll bring him around here so he can finally meet you."

I nodded, albeit hesitantly. We both knew the only reason our mother didn't let Jamie babysit was because she was aware I still lived with Jamie. Until she was sure that I wouldn't be around, I could be pretty sure she'd never let Jamie take him for the day. With a deep, calming breath, I set the picture back on the table and stood. That was enough emotion for me for the day.

"I guess I'll go shower now."

When I finally got in, the hot water on my body and the steam that filled the bathroom worked wonders on my head, and by the time I was done showering I felt completely rejuvenated. Though physically I felt better, emotionally, I couldn't get Justin out of my head. When I stepped out and had wrapped the towel around me, I used my hand to wipe the condensation from the mirror. A full head of soaking blonde hair and dark blue eyes stared sadly back at me. Maybe Victoria was right... At the thought I shook my head. Even if it was true, I couldn't agree. Acknowledging it meant admitting it, and admitting it meant having to do something about it.

I was just finishing up brushing my teeth when Jamie knocked on the door. "Hey, me and Cameron are leaving for church. We'll be back later."

Church? I flung the door open, startling Jamie and causing her to jump back. "Is it Sunday?" She nodded, not even able to finish the action before I flew past her, desperately holding the towel around me so the wind of my speed wouldn't knock it off. "I was supposed to be at work at nine!"

I wasn't even paying attention to if they'd left or not as I rummaged through the dresser in my room, looking for my work uniform. I pulled out my purple bookstore shirt and threw it on, frantically getting ready as hurriedly as I could. Of all the days I could've picked to be late for work, I had to pick a day that I didn't even have a good excuse. It wasn't just that my boss loved to make an example out of me whenever I messed up, but today my mood was not solid enough to deal with getting yelled at. Again.