The sun has just about set by the time I park outside our small two-story home in my beat-up white Chevy. Our house is not grand by any means, but it's home. A small porch with old wooden steps sits in the centre, featured with a bright red door that Mom painted with Dad shortly after buying the home. It is chipped and peeling now, but Mom refuses to repaint it.
A bay window sits on the right side in the middle of the living room, along with a wooden flower box that lies underneath, filled with yellow daisies-Mom's favourite. I stare at the water pelting down from the grey, puffed filled sky and groan. It has been pouring
rain ever since I left the arena, which isn't that much of a surprise. April in British Columbia is nothing but God damn rain.
I grab my hockey bag from the passenger seat, throw it over my shoulder and head inside.
"I'm home!" I yell as soon as I open the door. I kick my sneakers off and quickly haul my bag up the stairs to my room before Mom has a chance to lecture me again about the rancid smell.
After dropping my bag on the floor, I shut my door and plopped myself down on my twin bed. My long frame makes it nearly impossible for me to keep my feet on the narrow bed as they dangle
almost comically off the edge of the frame.
I look up at the door when Mom knocks, catching her as she leans against the frame.
"Hey, sweetheart. How was it?"
My mom looks exceptionally young for her age. Maybe it has something to do with how she always has her short blonde hair done up, or maybe it's how her crystal blue eyes haven't lost their
sparkle, even after all of these years.
I got most of my features from my dad. From the dark brown hair that swooped at the back of his neck, his never-dulling green eyes, and especially his towering height, we could have been twins.
"It was alright. It was sad to say goodbye, but I'll be okay," I admit. "I have to stop by the arena this week to pick up the rest of my stuff before I leave on Friday." I don't mention the party Andre refuses to let me skip because know
ing her, she'll push me to go harder than Andre himself.
My supposed going away party is on Thursday night-despite my adamant protests. Hockey parties have never been my thing, especially since I became Captain. I always end up dealing with a
bunch of girls who only take an interest in me so they can tell all their friends they slept with Oakley Hutton, Captain of the Storm. I'm not saying that I haven't given in a few times. Admittedly, I'm no saint. I just don't want my last night with my team to be such a clusterfuck of drunken mistakes. "I would be worried if you weren't the least bit sad, honey. But you should be excited; you're so close to your dreams." She sits down on the edge of my bed and gives me one of her famous Anne
Hutton smiles, her blue eyes bright. "I am so proud of you. I know your father would be too."
Mom always has a way of smiling and lifting people's spirits. Dad always called it her superpower. I didn't understand how a smile could be someone's superpower until after he died. Her
smile was one of the only things that got me through it all. So, I guess that really does make her a superhero.
Our superhero, at least.
I sit up to look at her properly. "I am excited. What about you guys? Will you be okay? I'll try
to come home as often as I can." My promise is evident in my words-even though I'm not sure I can keep it. My new schedule is going to be crazy, but I would do anything for my family. I know that for sure.
Mom clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shakes her head. "You need to stop worrying about your sister and me. You're going to get grey hairs before you make it to twenty-one.
We will be fine. You go and find yourself someone of your own to take care of."
I chuckle, "Sure, Mom, I'll get right on that."
I've never actually brought a girl home before. Not as my girlfriend, at least. I've never had the
time. My life is crazy enough without adding a girl into the mix.
"Good! It's about time you finally bring a girl home. I'm getting old here!" She leans over to
kiss my head before making her way to the door. "Anyways, I know you're probably tired, but there
are leftovers in the fridge if you're hungry. Goodnight, I love you." She leaves my room, shutting the
door gently.
"Night, Mom, I love you too," I speak into the now quiet room.
Friday morning comes quicker than expected. My going away party was shockingly a lot of fun
despite my previous reservations. Andre kept the guest list pretty small and I successfully managed to
stay away from the possibly awkward morning encounters. Saying goodbye to the team afterwards, on
the other hand-not so easy.
When I first joined the team, I used to act like I single-handedly hung the moon. And yeah, I
had the skill to back it up, but my attitude cost us way too many games.
Coach was the one who knocked me down a few pegs. I learned the hard way that being the
best on the ice doesn't mean anything if you don't have the team's respect behind you. That realization
was why I worked my ass off in the second half of my first season to do exactly that. Then, during my
second season, I earned the privilege of having the beloved C on my jersey.
I can happily admit that all the work was worth it considering I just came out of this season as
the number one goal-scorer in the Junior league.
I load the last box into my truck's bed as Mom comes outside to say goodbye.
"I wish I could be coming with you, but you know I have to work." Her eyes shine with unshed
tears, and the sad smile tugging on her usual red lips makes me want to unpack and stay here, but I
can't.
"I know you would if you could, Mom. But I'm a big boy. I'm sure I can handle it," I say, trying
to lighten the mood before the waterworks start. Suddenly the front door slams shut. I whip my head
up to see Gracie come running down the steps like a complete lunatic in her pyjamas.
"Why didn't anybody wake me up?" she scolds, rolling her eyes. I let out a loud laugh at the
sight in front of me. Gracie has her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised, trying to be
intimidating. I laugh again, and her scowl deepens.
Gracie ended up looking just like Mom-blonde-haired and blue-eyed. If you didn't already know we were siblings, chances are you wouldn't even be able to tell.
"I did wake you up, sleepyhead. Three times. You kept going back to sleep after saying something about a boy band?"
Her whole face lights up as she no doubt recalls her dream. "Oh! Well, I can't say I'm sorry.
You don't wake somebody up from a good dream. It wouldn't have been worth it for me. No offence,"
she shrugs.
I fake a laugh as reality sets back in. I let out a deep sigh, "I hate to be a downer, but I gotta
go. I'm meeting my new coach at twelve, and if I don't leave now, I won't make it." I take a final look
around at our quiet neighbourhood and smile at the two women in front of me. "I will be back as soon
as I can. I promise."
Mom is the first one to reach out and hug me. "Drive safe," she murmurs, squeezing me so tight
that she practically cuts off my circulation. "And let me know when you get there. Have fun. I love
you." She slowly pulls away and makes room for Gracie.
"Bye, big bro. I already miss you driving me wherever I wanna go," Gracie laughs as she
wraps her arms around my waist and sets her head on my chest. "I'm joking. But I will miss you. Love
you."
"Goodbye, you little shit. Don't give Mom too much trouble, please. Love you too." I return
her hug and plant a kiss on the top of her head. Turning around and heading to the driver's side of my
truck, I give them both a wave before I get in, start it up, and head for the highway.
Goodbye Penticton, Hello Vancouver.
YOU ARE READING
Lucky Hit
Teen FictionLucky Hit follows Oakley, a hockey player with his sights on the big leagues, and Ava, a college student who is rightfully jaded towards dating athletes. Oakley and Ava meet one night at Oakley's going away party as he transitions to the minor leagu...