The Hockey Player (Matt Sturniolo)

Rare

Aurora's POV

"I hate the world"

Liquid irritation flowed through my veins and it came from multiple sources. The mental image of bags of blood drained mine from my face.

Groans and steps carried me through my morning routine. I fought the urge to throw a pillow at the giant lump, snoring on the couch. Stupid brother and his stupid parties. I groaned at Mom and Dad's good morning, squinted when I opened the fridge and took out containers.

Stupid Matt antics.

Rival pawn wasn't in my plan. Was any of it real? What will I say to him? I hated how my heart raced at the thought of seeing him. He was an asshole, and I dodged a bullet.

I bit into the crumbly goodness. Our search suggested proteins, raisins and whole grains for a post donation snack. Last night, Mom, Raine and I replaced sugar with honey and added olive oil, flax and chia seeds. "I hope they like them"

"If not, Dan's team will inhale them" Mom smiled from behind her cup. "We made four hundred"

I squinted at the only reason I was awake, as quiet as an elephant in a ballet class. "Dad?"

He pulled down his paper and smiled at me. "I can't ruin the surprise. It'll be here soon"

"Mom?"

"I can't imagine" she mumbled, but her eyes screamed 'not again' . "Honey, don't you have enough someday- maybe projects?"

"Yeah" I rested my elbow on the table. "There's enough weird shit in the garage"

Mom glared at me. "Aurora, language"

"What? It's weird" Dad furrowed his eyebrows, so I continued. "Broken violin you thought I would play when I was six? Dan's surfboard? Water damaged comics?"

"Dan uses the surfboard" was the only response he gave.

"Not all eight!" I cupped my forehead. "Dad, you gotta part with that junk. It's just collecting cobwebs"

Mom smiled behind her cup. It wasn't just the weird stuff Dad came across, it was his attachment. "Someday, maybe" there was no point in arguing. What was he eyeing this time?

"We'll have to make those granola bars again" Mom said, biting into one. "They came out good, Aurora"

"They look like birdseed"

"Aurora, remember. Don't touch anyone" Dad warned, turning a page of his paper and holding out a can of pepper spray to me. "You sure you don't want Mom to come? She can sit in the parking lot the whole time"

No thanks. "I'll be fine" I rolled my eyes, but took the pepper spray he shook at me. "I'll text updates, if you want"

He nodded. "Don't forget to clip the spray to your pants"

"It's for charity" I wasn't sure if he realised a blood drive was involved.

After too many 'I'll be fine's' I set the bars and lunch in Dan's back seat. A faint vanilla smell wafted off the leather seats. Raine's hand lotion was a pleasant alternative to Dan's boy stink.

I knew how to get there, but I felt uncertain the closer I got. I shouldn't have told Matt, but I couldn't take my words back. Last night's anger simmered down, but would Matt reignite it or stir other feelings?