The Cocky Hockey Captain

Chapter 11 ● Twist and Turn

An entire week more of such torture passed in which I had broken my vow not to vomit or faint in front of everybody, although not at the same time — a victory I took little comfort in.

On my third Saturday at Silver Grove I woke up in the middle of the hotel room bed in so much pain that I couldn't even groan. Somehow I had to roll out of bed today and find a pharmacy. I had to douse myself in Icy Hot and drown my sorrows with painkillers if I hoped for a decent night's sleep. It was hard to be simultaneously so tired that I could fall asleep despite the ache in my body, but be woken by it a hundred times in the middle of the night.

I gritted my teeth and dragged myself into the shower, where I had to laugh at the whole absurdity. Everybody on the team must think that I was the dirtiest boy, because I never showered with them. After every practice I dashed back to the hotel so I wouldn't have to shower among them. Well, dashing was a very generous way of putting it. I dragged myself across the streets of town and into my hotel room.

One the other hand, for a whole week I managed to sustain the ruse that I was busy with homework to not meet dad for dinner at the town's diner. We talked several times per day over the phone, or he talked and I grunted in response, and that seemed to be enough to satisfy him for a while. Thanks to those conversations I knew that the renovations for the house were in progress and that in a couple of weeks more we would be able to move in. He didn't tell me much about work and I didn't care to ask. He asked a lot about school and I didn't care enough to respond. Rinse and repeat.

When I was done I gingerly stepped out of the shower, wincing as much for the cold floor as for the shot of pain that travelled up my legs. I wiped the mist from the mirror and looked at the combination of really short hair and the rest of me, which, although not super voluptuous, was definitely female. One day people would find out about this whole mess, but hopefully that would be when I was safely back in Orlando.

There were a few perks about the way my life had turned out to be lately, though. One of them was that I could blow my hair dry in the matter of five minutes, which was exceedingly handy in the dead of Alberta cold. As I slowly put on the warmest clothes I owned, I remembered that there were other perks.

Such as abs. Of steel. Everywhere. Everyday.

Which was as much a struggle as it was a blessing. I was sure that somewhere a puppy died every time I got a delectable view in the locker rooms, especially if it was from a certain Canadian god. This all made me a terrible human being, but as we said in Spanish, ¿qué es una raya más para el tigre? I was a lost cause way before this whole debacle turned me into a voyeour.

I zipped my puffy coat all the way up and stuffed my head in the warmest beanie, grabbed my wallet and opened the door, determined to make it to the pharmacy.

I didn't know I had enough strength in me to jump half a mile, but I did when I saw that Dean and Pace were outside my door.

"Morning," Pace said, smiling as though nothing was amiss.

I put a gloved hand over my heart, willing it to stop racing as I looked at one pretty face and then to the other. "What the hell are you guys doing outside my door?" I narrowed my eyes. "How'd you even know it was my door?"

"We asked," he said.

Meanwhile Dean looked me up and down. "Going somewhere?"

I sighed and closed the hotel room door behind me. "If you must know, I have to go to the pharmacy."

"Why? What's wrong?" Pace asked as he fell in step next to me with the ease of someone whose muscles did not protest with every move. I was jealous.

I glared at him. "I'm in too much pain to function."