The Rhodes Method

three

I didn't choose this town
I dream of getting out
There's just one who could make me stay
All my days
--- You're on Your Own, Kid, Taylor Swift

OCTAVIA RHODES

Vince drives me to hockey practice later that day.

Neither of us speak about last night. I don't think either of us wants to.

The silence of the drive is interrupted by a call.

"Who is it?" Vince asks because he does not check his phone while driving. I pick it up and observe the name.

"Winston Rivera."

My oldest brother grits his teeth. "Decline it."

I don't give it a second thought. Though, I do ask, "Who is that?"

"A colleague."

I nod my head. Our conversation is tense and awkward but I suppose it has always been like this.

Vince eventually parks at the hockey rink lot. He turns to me after turning off the ignition, and says, "Do you want me to wait?"

I shake my head. "Veronica said her mum can drive me back."

"Who's Veronica?"

I stifle a groan. Vince can not remember my friends' names, even though he practically has a photographic memory. I have to explain that Veronica is the girl I went to middle school with, whose party I went to a week before. He still does not remember, so I tell him that her father is a doctor and her mother is a pharmacist and suddenly he recognises her.

"Be careful," he makes me promise. "Call me if you need anything. And get off the ice if you injure yourself; don't keep playing."

"Yes, okay." I jump out of the car and grab my large duffle bag and equipment from the boot. "See ya, Vince!"

He rolls down the window. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

I smile softly and shake my head. He does not reverse and drive off until I am standing in front of the rink, right by the doors. I let out a breath I did not know I was holding, and then head towards the change rooms.

The hockey arena is in good condition, all things considered. The council recently invested a lot of money into all the sports centres in the area, so the seats are of good quality and the ice is clean. The lights are bright and the changing rooms are spotless and I am glad the place I go to cool off is welcoming.

All my friends are already there when I arrive. I am friends with all the girls on my team. We are good teammates on the ice and even better mates off the ice. I've known most of them since I was a child, and they're all like me in a sense; determined and persistent. You don't get into such an extreme sport if you're not serious about it. The gear is expensive, the training is hard and the rewards are pleasant, but we are all here because we want to be here and not because we are forced. Although I am friendly with everyone here, it is Veronica and Sarai that I am closest with. After all, they go to my school, so I see them the most of all.

I drop my bags on the chairs and greet my friends with a nod. I glance at them a second before I turn to change, but when I look back at them, their eyes are wide as they stare at me.

"What's wrong?" I ask, throwing off my shirt. In my sports bra, I look through my bag for my black undershirt. I find it fairly quickly. My friends are still staring at me.