The Sound of Ice

8

I wake up to the sound of my alarm beeping loudly and rain pounding my window. Usually I'll walk to school, but today I think Veronica and I will drive.

In the kitchen, Veronica is simultaneously braiding Hailey's hair and eating a bowl of cereal. Hailey's face is stone and her jaw is locked, her arms crossed over her yellow raincoat. Veronica raises her eyebrows at me. 

"'Morning," I say, pouring a bowl of cereal for myself. Mom is usually already at work by the time I wake up. "Hailey? What's wrong?"

Hailey continues to pout. "It's bring your dad to school day," says Veronica, her voice quiet and purposefully calm.

"It's called Donuts for Dad," says Hailey sharply. "And ouch! You're hurting my hair!"

"Oh," I say. "Hey, it's okay, Hails. Soon it'll be Muffins for Mom, right?"

"Whatever," snaps Hailey. Veronica ties Hailey's blonde hair with an elastic band and she marches to the front door to pull on her rain boots.

Veronica sighs and shrugs. "What do we do?"

"I don't know. Nothing?"

So we do nothing. 

~

At school, Ethan, Luke, and Ollie won't shut up about the interview.

"It airs tonight," says Ollie, grinning. "I'll be watching it."

"Aw, my little boy, so popular now," says Ethan. 

"Shut up," I mumble. The storm outside makes the cafeteria louder than normal, and I feel like pressing my hands against my ears. Instead, I pick at my sad chicken wrap.

"Will there be another classic Gonzalez-Beckett fight at the away game this weekend?" says Luke. His tone reeks of thinly veiled annoyance. 

"Definitely not," I say. "Matthew and I... we're fine now."

"Hey, give Cameron a break," says Ollie, digging through a bag of potato chips. "It's Matthew that's the worst."

"Thank you, Ollie," I say.

"Yeah," Luke mutters. "But they both play a part."

"They're just too similar, is what I think," says Ethan. "They're both cocky, arrogant, sons-a-bitches -"

I flip him off and he laughs. 

"Seriously though," he says. "You are alike."

"Maybe," I say. 

Lightning strikes outside and illuminates the cafeteria, and a group of younger girls shriek loudly at another table. I turn and look in their direction, wincing.

"It's just lightning," says Ollie to himself. "No need to scream..."

I see Sam at the smart kids' table. He's sitting beside Trina, the girl from the other day, and they're going over homework or something together on her laptop. I notice they're sitting close to each other and I turn back around. 

"Anyway," I say. "What was I saying? Oh yeah, Matthew. The away game will be fine."

~

The storm floods some of the roads, so practice is cancelled again today. I groan when I get the text message from Coach and sprawl out on my bed dramatically.

"More time to study," says Sam, who's sitting on my bedroom floor. "Have to get that B, right?" He's systematically organizing old tests and worksheets on the crooked hardwood.

"Sure," I say, rubbing my face.

Sam stops and looks up. "Is someone... crying?"

"Oh yeah, that's Hailey," I say. "It was Donuts for Dad or whatever at her school today." 

"Oh," says Sam, looking out my bedroom door to the empty hallway. Her muffled sobs are echoing through the house. I don't know if Veronica and Mom are home or not, but everyone knows to leave her alone when she gets sad about this. 

He turns back to look at me. "What happened? To your dad, I mean."

I shrug and pick at a thread on my quilt. "I dunno. I mean, my dad left us when my mom was pregnant with Hailey."

"Oh," says Sam, his voice quiet.

"Yeah. I mean, it's okay." It's kind of weird to talk about this. I don't say this to anyone. Not even Ethan. 

"I'm sorry," says Sam. "That sucks."

I shrug again, and I can't stop scratching at the minuscule hole in my quilt. "Yeah," I say, and clear my throat. "It was kind of rough. I don't think he was that great of a guy. It's just that Hailey sees all the nice dads on TV and imagines him to be like that, you know?"

"That makes sense," says Sam. 

"I mean, I don't really remember him. But my mom is cool, so..." I try to smile. 

"When I was younger, I would have to bring my uncle to all the dad events," says Sam. "Even though he hated them. My parents died in a car accident when I was a baby."

"Oh. Shit."

"Yeah. Shit." Now Sam smiles. "It's okay. It's weird that we both lost a parent, or both."

"Yeah." I know what we're both thinking, though. No one that lives on this street is a perfect, complete family. 

There's a weird mood in the room, the air so vulnerable I think it's going to shatter, the echo of our conversation suspended in the air. Like I said, I don't talk to anyone about this. Ever. Not Ethan, not Veronica. 

Because the thing is, I do think about my dad sometimes. And of course I remember. Veronica and I were nine when he left. I just woke up one morning and he wasn't there. And he never came back. And there's a picture of the two of us in my desk drawer that I don't like to look at, and he's holding my hand and we're laughing, and I don't know. I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if he would have been proud of me. And other times I'm angry. If I met him now, I don't know what I'd do. 

Sam's picking at the corner of a worksheet, and I'm picking at the quilt, and Hailey is crying. 

"We don't have to study math right now," says Sam gently, breaking the silence. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Okay," I say. So we turn on the television in the living room and watch the old, black and white movie that's playing. Halfway through, Hailey joins us silently. 

I just can't help but wonder if it would be better if my dad was dead. And I wonder what Sam's thinking.

We watch the movie.