Hockey Towns Favorite Girl

3| No One Knows you

*Hazel*

Tuesday came quicker than it should have. The day pasted slowly with no school, I had somehow convinced my mom to let me start next week. Promising her I would finally start.

How I did this i'll never know, but I'll take it.

"What about your gear?" She asked attempting to hold up my hockey bag but miserably failing.

"Don't need it." I stated, pulling my hair into a low pony tail.

My mom looked at me frustrated. Unsure what to do. I could tell my attitude stressed her out, but she was the one who put us here not me.

"Hazel, this is good for you." She stated as we walked to the car.

"How mom?" I asked raising an eye brow recalling the last time I tried to get on the ice.

"It will get you back into hockey, hun you love hockey."

I rolled my eyes and got into the car. Yeah, I loved hockey. I did.

I loved to skate.

Loved to play.

Loved to watch it.

But I couldn't, I had fallen behind. My mom had fallen behind financially too.

After 2 months in the hospital and another 2 in recovery it wasn't hard to see we were struggling.

And those 4 months didn't include the other 2 weeks her and coach Ryan and my teamates spent trying to get me back on the ice.

I had tried, and tried.

But my stomach would twist and my throat would swell up and next thing I know I was clenching onto coach like a little kid in u-6 who had fallen over. I would rip the gear off like it was burning my skin, hurting me.

The doctor, and my oh so lovely therapist, said this was from the incident and that it may be best to get me far away from my old Town as possible just to start new. In every aspect of my life, not just hockey, what utter bullshit.

But that's what my mom did.

Without asking my opinion, I think that was what pissed me off the most. We argued, yelled, and screamed. I was angery, she was concerned and just trying to do the right thing.

But what I needed was not this. This, this whole thing, made me pissed. So when we had yelled at each other till my lungs hurt I left the house and slammed the door. Drove the car till I was determined the tank would go empty. And when it finally did I was conviently in the middle of no where. Feild after feild of corn, excpet for an old abandoned house.

I pulled the car over and went inside it planning to just stay there till I cooled off from my anger. But every step towards the house I took I seemed to get madder and madder. I took and old board off the ground and smashed one of the windows and smashed the board on the old house floor. Chucking the board into the wall, picking up a new peice of wood and repeating.

Till I was caught of course.

The police officer who found me, I think felt bad, because I was just sobbing and mad. I yelled blantent curses at him for him to leave me alone. Obviously he didnt and the following week I was in the court house being told jail or community service, both Im sure will look fantastic on my record.

I watched as we pulled up to the rink, cars pulling in and out, moms standing with their coffee mugs. Kids with large bags and a stick, maybe two in their hands.

It looked no different than any other rink, which scared me. I didn't want to do this, I wasn't sure if I could.

But I would never tell my mom that. Then she would just worry more.