A Family Podcast (english)

Chapter 5

Taylor

"Oh shit, what happened to you?" I was standing in the kitchen, contemplating whom I should force to clean up this kitchen mess when Jackson came home from his ice hockey practice.

Except he looked like he had been used as a puck rather than a player. His right eye was bruised and swollen, and his lip was split open.

Ignoring me, Jackson tossed his gear into the corner and made a beeline for upstairs. I blocked his path.

"You look like someone put you through a meat grinder. Do you seriously think I'll just let you go upstairs like that?"

"Man, leave me alone," Jackson snapped, but I shook my head. Instead, I guided him into the kitchen and pushed him onto one of the chairs.

I rummaged through the freezer and pulled out a bag of peas, sitting down across from him. I had no idea why we even had this stuff; the last time someone thawed vegetables here was months ago.

Jackson reached for the bag, but I held it up.

"What happened?" I asked instead, well aware that on bad days, Jackson preferred sitting in silence for three hours rather than talking. But today seemed to be my lucky day because he grumbled and started speaking.

"I got into a fight," he finally said. Oh, really? I couldn't tell.

"Are you sure you were fighting and not getting beaten up?" I muttered, holding out the peas to him. Jackson grabbed them and pressed them against his eye. He winced slightly, and I wondered if we had any Heparin ointment somewhere so that he wouldn't have to walk around with a black eye for the rest of the week.

"What happened?" I asked again, but Jackson just scowled around the room. I sighed and leaned on the backrest of his chair.

"Listen, you're staying here until I find out who gave you that black eye, so make it easier for both of us and talk," I growled, and Jackson huffed defiantly.

"Did you get into a fight during practice? Because I swear, Jackson, if you're already causing trouble..."

"It wasn't during practice," Jackson interrupted me.

"But with a teammate?" I asked. Jackson was determined and impulsive, and I wouldn't be surprised if he started stirring up trouble with someone on the first day. But Jackson shook his head.

"Then...?" I asked. Jackson snorted angrily.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" When he saw my gaze, he groaned theatrically. "I got into a fight with David Boardman, okay?"

"David Boardman?" I repeated, confused. "From the tenth grade? That guy is almost three years older than you, Jackson."

My brother just shrugged, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"Jackson!"

"Fine. He took my hockey stick and didn't give it back, so I took his stick and hit him in the face," he finally explained, and now I was the one who fell silent.

"David Boardman from the baseball team?" I asked, just to make sure we were talking about the same person.

Jackson nodded briefly, and I scratched my neck.

"It's a miracle you can still walk straight," I remarked, impressed, as I surveyed my brother.

"I ran away," Jackson finally admitted, staring at the floor.

"I guess that was the smartest decision you made today," I scoffed.

Just as I was about to reiterate – once again – that he should damn well stop picking fights with guys stronger than him, Noah and the twins came through the door.