Together As Mutants (Book Six)

Chapter 42: Hockey Games with the Joneses

"And Casey Jones goes for the slapshot!"

Casey whoops, slamming the puck past his father's stick and right into the net. He pumps his fist, skating in a tight circle.

Arnold Jones chuckles, straightening a bit as he adjusts his grip on his stick. "Damn, kid, you've gotten faster," he says.

"Or you've gotten slower, old man!" Casey retorts, sticking his tongue out.

"Don't get cocky!"

April smiles to herself as Casey and his dad skate around the ice. Near her, Casey's younger sister Andrea plays on her phone, the snap of bubblegum occasionally echoing in the ice rink's emptiness. Her bright blue eyes stay locked on her screen.

"You're sure you don't want to play?" April asks.

Andy shrugs. She blows another bubble. It snaps and disappears back between her glossy black lips. "Nah," she says. "Gotta let the boys have their fun."

April nods and turns back to the two-man game, arms folded as she leans onto the boards. It's times like these that she's amazed at how much Casey looks like his dad. Arnold is well-built for a man nearing his fifties, broader than his son, but otherwise, it's like looking into Casey's future. He shares his dark eyes, hair, square chin, and freckles with his only son.

Casey's face is a little rounder though, less chiselled, and April often wonders whether it's just lingering baby fat or if he gets it from his mother.

"Yo, April, you wanna get in on this?" Casey asks, snapping her from her thoughts as he skates up to the boards. He flashes a smile as he leans closer to her.

She giggles and pushes him playfully. "I don't think I could keep up with you two."

"Won't know until you try," Arnold says. His skates skid along the ice, shaving some off as he comes to a stop next to his son. "Even if you're a goalie."

Casey gives her the biggest puppy eyes he can and, for a second, she's tempted. She's sure she could psychic a few pucks away if things get bad, and it could be good practice, but...

She darts a glance at Arnold. Maybe if it was just her and Casey here.

"Sorry," she says, holding up her hands. "I've got a few more applications to fill out. I should probably do that first."

Casey rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "Classic, Red. Doing homework on a weekend."

She raises an eyebrow. "College applications aren't homework, Jones, and speaking of..."

He scoffs a little. "Casey Jones isn't about an academic life. You don't need a degree to be a professional hockey player."

Andy lets out a tiny snort. "Maybe focus on passing high school first."

"Hey, your grades aren't that great either!"

"At least I haven't been held back."

"Kids, kids," Arnold cuts in, gripping Casey's shoulder and giving Andy a stern look. "That's no way to talk to your brother."

"I'm just telling the truth, dad."

"Whatever," Casey says, making a shooing gesture with his hand. He skates back onto the ice, effortlessly graceful in his movements as he pushes the abandoned puck along. "Guys like me just go where the wind blows, kicking ass and taking names!"

He swings and the puck flies across the ice, right back into the net. April purses her lips, eyebrows knitting with worry, and Arnold exhales as he rubs the back of his neck.

"I'm trying," he says, almost sheepish.

"He's an adult," April says, although he doesn't seem like it most of the time. "He has to figure it out himself. We can't force him."

"You're right about that," he muses. He turns, skating back towards Casey. "Alright, let me show you how a pro does it!"

April settles onto the bench, reaching into her bag and digging for her laptop. Andy gets up, excusing herself to the bathroom, and wanders off, ponytail swinging as she goes.

----------

"So, are you sure you're okay?"

Casey huffs a bit as he pedals, almost effortlessly balancing his bike even with April riding on the back. "Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

April purses her lips. "I don't know, just...I'm worried about you."

"There's nothing to worry about, Red. Life is good."

She stays quiet for another second. She knows she can't make Casey do anything he doesn't want to and she doesn't want to force him either. Still, when they met, he had already been held back once, and she's seen his report cards. He's on track to be held back again.

He must know. He may not be academically smart, but he isn't a complete idiot. He has to know that at this rate, she'll graduate without him.

"Have you thought about life after high school, Casey?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Sometimes."

"Still aiming for pro hockey player or bounty hunter?"

"If it works out that way."

She exhales. "Casey...I think you need to start giving some real thought to what you want to do."

He slows the bike to a stop, moving away from the main walkway, and turns to look at her. His brows stay furrowed, lips pouted.

"Does it really matter?" he asks. "I'm gonna keep patrolling, kicking crime butt with the turtles, and I'll see where life takes me. If that means I repeat another year of high school, so be it."

She gapes a little. "What about your future?"

His face softens into his signature, charming smile that used to seem so annoying to her. "You keep saying that, Red, but when I think of months, years from now...I see you, and the turtles, and not much else." His smile falls and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. I guess...I can't picture more than where I am."

She grabs his hand, squeezing it and bringing his eyes back to her. "I can help you, you know? I helped you pass trig once."

He smirks, leaning closer. "You sure you don't want to focus on getting into some swanky academic establishment?"

"Oo, big words, Jones. Careful, you might hurt yourself," she teases lightly, drawing closer.

He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks, the tip of her nose, then her lips, and she laughs softly.

"Okay, but seriously, can we start looking into things?" she asks. "There's got to be something out there for you."

He smiles at her. "You're better than I deserve, Red."

She scoffs good-naturedly. "Hardly, but thank you."

He reseats himself on the bike, gripping the handlebars. "Let's get you home before Kirby loses his mind, huh?"

Then they're off again, and April doesn't need to be psychic to get the feeling that they're going to have this conversation again.