Page 29 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

No one said anything to him in the room about the turnover. No one was cold to him or told him off. Auston didn’t even glance at him—which was better than the alternative.

Probably.

It just made the guilt worse.

He showered and changed quickly, thanking his lucky stars he hadn’t be chosen for media, Sammy jumping in instead.

Chase would have to thank him later.

He was just finishing up when his phone started ringing.

His lungs curled up, breath trapped there, chest aching with it like he’d been swallowed up by a rush of cold water.

He didn’t have to look at the screen to know who it was.

He grabbed his stuff and rushed out of the locker room. His hand was shaking as he lifted his phone to his ear.

He tried to walk in a straight line and picked up.

After his dad died, Chase’s mom had changed. Or maybe she had always been like that, and his dad had just shielded Chase from it, taking the brunt of her sharp tongue until he couldn’t anymore.

It had been an adjustment to go from his dad’s gentle ways to his mom’s mercurial temper. Chase had tried so hard to make her happy. To do exactly as she said, exactly as she said it. To try and predict her needs.

To be good.

Nothing seemed to work. Not even hockey, really, except the rare games he scored so much even she couldn’t criticise him.

In the beginning, he’d tried to take everything she threw at him, but it was too much. He’d had to learn how to deal with it. How to diminish the impact of her words.

The only thing he’d ever come up with was to just…disappear.

When his mom got angry, he’d just go somewhere else. He’d leave his body behind so his mom could shout at it, go somewhere warm and dark and his.

“How many times—” His mom’s voice faded as he finally stepped outside.

He made the appropriate noises back. Yes, he could do better. No, he wasn’t slacking off. Yes, he wanted this. He knew it didn’t look like it. Yes, he knew how much she had sacrificed for him. No, he wasn’t throwing it all away.

“You’re not even trying,” his mom barked.

“I—”

“You’re not. Either you’re not good enough, or you’re not trying. Which one is it?”

Chase opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

“God. What a waste.” With that, his mom hung up.

He stood at the entry of the covered car park, the wind buffeting him. He was being scooped out. There was a razor-sharp thing inside him, slicing him up.

He wrapped his arms around his middle, trying to contain everything broiling in the core of him.

The hurt. The disappointment. The hopelessness.

And the anger, too.

Because it wasn’t just joylessness there. Deep under the hurt and the disappointment there was a creature on fire.

It wanted to scream.