Page 72 of Ruin The Friendship

Page List

Font:

Font Size:

No. I know better than letting my thoughts run wild.

Fletcher is a better man than my father ever was. He’s more present, more dedicated, and more freely giving with his love. Sure, he might have a demanding career, but I have a feeling he will do whatever it takes to be present for my—our—daughter.

It feels weird to reference the baby asourdaughter, but that’s what she is. She’s his, too, and I know he will prove to us every day that blood or not, it doesn’t matter. Family is who you choose. I think it’s at this moment that I fully accept Fletcher is going to be my child’s father. He’s told me time and time again he’s in it for the long haul, but it fully sinks in. It’s not just going to be me as her parent.

The Economic Impact of Silver: Potosí, Global Trade, and Inflation in Europe

The Atlantic Slave Trade: Origins, Expansion, and Human Consequences

Indigenous Civilizations and European Contact: Resistance, Adaptation, and Collapse in the Age of Discovery

Spanish Colonial Administration: Encomienda System and Governance in the Americas

HOCKEY SHRINES AND FROZEN WAFFLES

FLETCHER

The air is expelled from my lungs on a groan as I slam the player from Winnipeg into the boards.

“Fuck you, Graff,” the young player spits as we chase after the puck.

I get it before he does, handling it with my stick as I skate out of our zone toward the red line.

“Graff!” Shepherd Wafford calls my name, tapping his stick on the ice twice to signal that he’s ready for the pass.

I shoot the puck toward him as he races for the goal.

Calvin calls out to Shepherd and passes the puck to him. He passes it back to me, and I angle my stick just right, shooting the puck straight into the net before the goalie even has a chance to block it. It’s a beautiful goal. The horn sounds, and our goal song, “Centuries” by Fall Out Boy, plays.

I skate over to Shepherd, wrapping him in a giant hug with Calvin and Levine.

“Here we go, boys,” I shout. “Only one more. We got this.”

They shout in agreement, and we skate to the bench,fist-bumping the rest of the team. My shift is done, so I climb over the bench and sit. I drink my water and shift my gaze up to the stands.

Lydia is in the third row of the lower bowl with Zoey and her fiancé, Vincent, at her side. I wave to the three of them, and Lydia and Zoey wave back excitedly. Lydia has a big bucket of popcorn in her lap, making me smile. I’ll have to figure out a way to get popcorn from here at home for her to snack on.

The puck drops, and we win the face-off.

I play three more shifts, and somehow we pull the win when I score again with only two minutes left, bringing us up three-two.

“Way to go, boys!” I say as we storm the ice after the horn blares, our goal song playing once more as the crowd erupts in cheers.

Getting a win is always good for team morale. We have a couple of days off this week with the New Year’s holiday, and an optional practice on New Year’s Day that I will definitely be opting out of. I’ve got better plans.