A Tale of Two Skates

Chapter 3

        Patrick’s eyes grew dark, a sign all of us knew too well, that he was angry. The other guys backed off, stepping down a few stairs to get out of his way.

            “How do you know him?” He asked me.

            “I...I don’t.” I shook my head, feeling small.

            “How do you know him?!” Patrick grew angrier, yelling at me. He pulled me closer and grabbed my arm, his grip tight.

            “I don’t know him! Patrick, you’re hurting me!” I yelled, feeling tears at my eyes. Immediately he let go, and I shrunk back against Jacks.

            “Cam...I’m sorry, it’s just, you cannot get involved with that guy, ok? Promise me you won’t!” There was something about Patrick that I hadn’t seen before, it was fear.

            “I won’t.” I promised, still feeling a bit shaken up.

            “Good.” He mumbled, heading inside.

            “You ok Cam?” Jacks asked me. I nodded.

            “What was that all about?”

            “That guy back there, that was Tobias Briere.” Jacks sighed as we entered the apartment. “He’s same age as Pat, they’ve been playing against each other for years. He’s dirty Cam. He’s the dirtiest player I know. He’s arrogant and cocky, got a big head on his shoulders.”

            “Yeah I already know that.” I snorted, falling down onto the couch.

            “So you see why Pat didn’t want you to be hanging out with him? You don’t want to see your little sister with a guy like that.” Jacks said quietly. That was probably one of the worst things, but also the best things, about having three older brothers. They always try to protect you, always. I heard Patrick’s door slam, causing me to flinch.

            “Kids, I’ve got some unfinished business I’ve got to take care before the tournament tomorrow. I don’t know when I’ll be back, don’t wait up, boys, take care of Camryn, Cam don’t let the boys do anything stupid.”

            “All right!” I called back before he slammed the door shut. It was my dad’s usual speech, always something he said before he left. He worried about us, constantly. It was hard for him, having to raise the lot of us without mom. I knew it took a lot out of him, so I tried to make sure I was always helping him.

            “Uh, Cam? Does something smell like it’s burning or...”

            “Shit!” I jumped up from the couch, running over to the stove. “I had been cooking, but then he came, and I...shit!” I dumped the burnt chicken into the garbage, and let the pan rinse in the sink. “I guess I’ll be ordering pizza and wings tonight.” I sighed, picking up the phone and calling the local pizzeria. I heard a chorus of whoops and cheers coming from the living room as I finished ordering and hung up the phone.

                                                                                      -------

            I stood behind the counter, making popcorn and bags of candy for little kids who were paying with their parent’s money. It was the annual Lindsey Thompson Tournament, a tournament that my dad started up. It was simple, you signed up in your correct age division and you were put on a team of nine, it was three on three, pretty laidback. There was a small admission fee, but it all went to cancer research, so it was always a big hit. Today was currently the 10-12 year olds, so the arena was packed with little people running around everywhere. Pat and Charlie were the refs, and Jacks was score keeper, and I was stuck behind the snack counter. Not that I minded it of course, I had done this for as long as I could remember, it wasn't that hard. But having to stand around smelling delicious food all day wasn’t easy either.