Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“I’m coming to your game against Villanova. We don’t have a game that weekend, and of course, my mom is going since that’s her alma mater.”
“Don’t go making me nervous.” She bites her lip. “So, your whole family will be at my game?”
“Pretty much.” I pat her arm to soothe her concerns. “No pressure.”
She laughs. “Yeah, none at all.”
My parents’ living room is packed to the brim with family. The scent of turkey wafts through the air. All the men are on the couches drinking beer and yelling at the football game taking place on TV. This is normal for Thanksgiving.
Even though my mom doesn’t cook, she’s in the kitchen. Aunt Sydney and her daughter, Chloe—Drake’s mom and sister—sit on stools next to Aunt Kennedy and her daughter, Ava—the Kane twins’ mom and older sister. Between the four families in this house, our parents have twelve children. None of them are related to me by blood. But they’re still my family, the only one I’ve ever known.
I introduce Bex and Coach Bryant to everyone, and they look overwhelmed as if they need to remember all of their names. It’s a lot for anyone to take in.
Coach Bryant squeezes my shoulder. “Thanks for inviting us, Preston. This is a nice change of pace for us. Bex hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in a long time.”
“Yeah, this is nice,” Bex says. “Thanks for having us.”
She’s pretending as if we’re friends and that my mom invited her for dinner. But keeping my shit together, without spilling the beans, is not easy. I almost slipped three times since they arrived.
Coach Bryant scans the room and then locks onto me. “Where’s your brother?”
“JP had a client emergency to deal with. He won’t be here until dinnertime.”
“I would hate to work on a holiday,” Coach says.
I shrug. “Missed holidays are normal in this family. My parents were on the road a fair amount when I was a kid.”
“That must have been tough on you and your brother.”
I shrug. “Not really. My aunts and Uncle Jameson were always around when my parents were out of town. We made it work.”
“That’s what makes our team so special.” He smiles. “You guys play like a family on the ice. I have a good feeling about this year.”
I return his smile. “I do, too. I want to end this season on a good note, make it easier for the NHL to draft me.”
“I have no doubt you’ll make it,” he assures me. “You’re just like your dad.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
I feel horrible for dating Bex behind his back. But staying away from her wasn’t an option. She stole fragments of my heart, taking pieces over time, collecting them until all of it belonged to her. Now, she has the power to break it.
There’s only one thing in our way, one thing keeping us from being truly happy. I have to get the balls to tell Coach Bryant about us. Now, if only I can find the courage to do that.
Hours pass by with lots of drunken yelling and football bets being taken before Mom calls us into the dining room for dinner. We sit in our usual places, saving the spot next to my dad for JP. Normally, I would sit next to my mom, except holidays are different. My aunts gab about girly crap with my mom, and I hang out with Jamie, Drake, Tucker, and Trent. Since we’re all the same age, we tend to stick together.
But with Bex and Coach Bryant here, the group has expanded. My dad made some room for Coach Bryant on his side of the table, welcoming him into the family. Bex is on my right in the middle of the table with my usual crew. It’s a full house, only one seat open and that belongs to JP.
My mom glances up every so often, looking for JP. She didn’t want to start dinner without him, but everyone was starving. We’d run out of snacks an hour before, and we were slowly getting drunker and more irritated.
“Bex,” my mom says. “How would you like to help me out with Philly Clean this year?”
Philly Clean is a youth basketball event my mom has sponsored and helped run every year since she started working at DMG. The players from the Sixers work with kids on ball handling and various skills, and all of the proceeds go to Philly Clean, a charity that helps drug addicts get off the streets and get clean. My grandparents were addicts, both of them dying from drug overdoses, which is how my mom ended up in foster care. It’s also the reason she met Jameson.
Bex’s eyes go wide. “Are you serious?”
Mom nods.
“Yeah. Uh… I would love to.” She smiles so wide her teeth are showing. “Thank you.”
Her excitement radiates off her. I love that she gets along with my mom. Things between us could never work out if she didn’t.