chapter 3

Nate’s POV

A winning streak of five in a row, it was worth the celebration so I didn't oppose it when my team members brought it up.

My dream of becoming a hockey player on the national level was gradually coming to fruition.

After our game, I received an email from the manager of the national team like he had promised and in a month's time, I was going to meet with him.

Perfect, this was just the beginning.

“Hey Nate, should I fill your glass?" Danny, my mate asked, clutching the vodka bottle.

"Of course. He led us to victory today so we have to spoil him the best way we can, don't you all agree?” Ethan yelled, pushing his glass forward.

Laughing heartily, we clinked our glasses and while they emptied the content down their gullets, I shifted my gaze to the window but she wasn't there anymore.

Jessica Cooper, a straight A student. She was the typical example of beauty with brains.

She caught my attention the first class I took after my transfer. She was damn good with school work, professors and her co students but it was a huge turn off for me.

My girl, I love her wild and social bee but not dumb. If only she could be a social bee, well that's not going to happen, I already shoved her aside.

The music inside the bar was loud, the kind that made your chest vibrate and your thoughts scatter.

It was crowded, filled with the sweaty heat of victory, bodies crammed together, and drinks raised high in celebration.

We had won the game at the last minute and my teammates were already halfway to being wasted.

There were cheers, laughter, and too many people shouting my name. The cheerleaders circled us like moths to a flame but still, I didn’t feel a damn thing.

I was on my third glass of beer, watching the foam settle in my glass when my phone buzzed against the table.

I picked it up, thinking it was someone important but then the name that flashed across my screen made me freeze.

Dad.

I stared at the screen like it was some kind of trick. I hadn’t heard from him in five years, it was half a decade of silence, and now, tonight of all nights, he decides to call?

My thumb hovered over the decline button. Every instinct screamed at me to ignore it, but something made me answer.

“Yeah?” I said, pushing off the table and stepping away from the group. I barely looked at the girl trying to pull me back into conversation, I needed air as my lungs had been clogged.

“Don’t ‘yeah’ me,” came the voice on the other end, deep, sharp, and bitter. “You think I wouldn’t find out? Huh? You think you could just sneak back to Florida without me knowing?”

“Nice to hear from you too, Dad.” I rolled my eyes, leaning against the cold wall.

“I had to find out from the damn TV!” he barked. “You show up at a school a few miles from my house, in a state you left five years ago, playing hockey again like nothing happened!”

“Why do you care now?” I laughed. "I had been on TV several times, also, out of the fifty states in the US, I had played in twenty three but you only discovered when I dropped by at Florida.”

“Watch your tone—”

“Or what? You’ll stop calling? Hate to break it to you, but I’ve had five peaceful years of that already.”

Silence crackled between us for a second. It was always this way between us since the death of  my mother. We were always aiming for each other's throats.

“I’m not calling to fight,” he broke the silence, his voice a bit strained. “I need you to come home.”

“Come again?”

“Come back, I will be by the balcony when you walk in tomorrow morning.”

“No.”

“Nathan—”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “You don’t get to act like a father now. You lost that right long ago so get used to it.”

He was quiet again, and for a moment I thought he had hung up but then he spoke, softer this time.

“I want to show you your mother’s grave.” He said.

I gulped as my breath caught in my throat. I felt like someone had punched me square in the chest.

“What?” I whispered.

“You’ve avoided it for years,” he said. “You said you didn’t want to see it until you had answers. I have answers but I’m not giving them to you over the phone.”

I turned away from the noise inside the bar, walking toward the alley behind it as my pulse thudded in my ears, my free hand curled up into a fist.

“She’s been gone for five years,” I mumbled with  a shaky voice. “And now you want to take me to her grave? Why now?”

“Because you’re spiraling again,” he said flatly.

“Drinking, picking fights, and skipping classes like you don't have a future. I’ve been keeping track of everything Nate and now that you are back in town, you are coming back to where to belong.” He spoke with an air of finality.

"Whether you like it or not, you’re still my son.”

I nearly dropped the phone as his audacity pierced through my chest like a shard of glass.

“You killed her.” I yelled, fist punching the air.

“You killed her,” I repeated, louder this time around. “You didn’t pull the trigger, no—but your words, your temper, your threats... They put her six feets under the ground. You don’t get to act like this is some reunion.”

“She was sick!” he shouted, his voice cracking.

“Oh please don’t lie to me,” I groaned, punching the wall. “I was seventeen in case you have forgotten and not a toddler."

“You turned that house into a warzone. I watched you break her, day after day, until she didn’t even flinch anymore.”

Biting my lower lips, I heaved, “And then one day, she was gone and you buried her like a secret.”

“She didn’t want a funeral,” he muttered. “She didn’t want a fuss. You think I wanted that? You think I wanted you gone too?”

“You ran! You left and never looked back!” He yelled, slamming his fist against a wooden surface.

The good thing was this conversation was on the phone and not face to face, otherwise, someone should have been sprawling on that floor by now.

Titling my head backwards, I closed my eyes, trying to regulate my heavy breathing. This conversation was going nowhere.

But that one sentence haunted me. — I want to show you your mother’s grave.

“Tomorrow morning, fine.” I muttered, more to myself than to him.

“What?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Good.” He hung up and immediately, I slid down the wall, my face buried in my palm as my heart raced against my chest.

“Mom." I gulped, recalling how she hovered over me with her pair of blue eyes even when she was in her last moments.

I wished I could help but my hands were tied. Father had placed me in a position where I couldn't even breath until she finally slumped, kissing the world goodbye.

I hadn’t thought about her like this in months. I had spent years numbing it, pushing it down, covering it with girls, games, and fights.

But now, her ghost was back and it always did, especially when I least expected it.

Burying myself further into the wall, I dragged my hand down my face.

I didn’t want to go alone, not back to that house and more especially not to him.

That’s when I remembered Terrence, my cousin, my mom’s nephew.

He was a quiet guy with a dark streak and a sharp brain. The kind of guy who never talked unless it mattered, and never said no to me because he owed me.

I pulled out my phone and dialed his number, waiting for the lines to connect and at the same time, trying to piece things together.

His phone rang twice before he answered.

“Thought you were dead,” he said the moment he came on.

“Not yet.”

“So, what’s up?”

“You owe me one, it’s time to pay up.”