Friday

Adam and I hopped on the first bus we could after classes Friday. Fulton was getting some math tutoring from Kenny. He wanted to come, but we have an algebra test Monday. Besides, depending on how this goes, I'll either want to introduce Fulton to Lane or spend the weekend doing something to forget all about the whole thing. Better to get the studying done now.

Bryn had wondered where I was off to so quickly after class, so I told her I would explain everything when I got back. She should be able to forgive me soon enough.

It didn't take long to arrive at Adam's house. I hadn't been here before, as we always met at others' houses during the Christmas break.

"Mom, it's me," Adam shouted as we walked through the door.

"Oh, sweetie, and you brought a friend. That's great," his mom said, turning from her spot on the couch to look at us.

Adam rolled his eyes. "Mom this is Portman, one of my teammates. We just stopped by on our way to the shop."

"Hi, Mrs. Banks," I said before following Adam up the stairs. His mom turned back to the television.

I followed Adam into a huge bedroom with a walk-in closet.

"This is my brother's room. Pick out whatever."

I stared at this closet. "This is all your brother's? And he's still has stuff at college?"

Adam looked at me. "Um, yeah… it's just…"

"No, don't worry about it." Though part of me couldn't help but think money had definite benefits.

He plopped down on the bed and pulled out the book we were reading in English from his backpack.

I standing there I realized I didn't want a suit and tie. I grabbed a pair of khakis and a blue polo shirt, changed and stepped back into the bedroom.

"How do I look?" I asked.

He stared for a moment. "Different."

"I know that. But do I look…" I trailed off, not knowing what I wanted.

"Ready to meet your long-lost brother?" Adam finished for me. My jaw dropped. There was no way Fulton would have told him.

Adam's breath caught. "Uh… I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said that. Uh, Jesse let it slip when I called him on Wednesday. I haven't told anyone. I just, uh…"

I had forgotten Jesse knew. I sat on the bed beside Adam.

A couple of deep breaths later, I spoke. "So, do you think I look ready?"

Adam looked relieved as if he had expected me to hit him. I probably would have if I wasn't so mortified he knew and so anxious about this whole thing.

"I guess so. I mean, are you really thinking he's going to be some snobby rich kid?"

I nodded.

"Well, once when I was at the hospital waiting for my CAT scan results, I couldn't go to sleep. Jesse came after the game and we had a long discussion about cake-eaters. We figured out that there are two kinds of cake-eaters out there. There are the snobby ones like the varsity team and then there are nice guys who are OK like me. And if this guy is really your brother, he'll probably be one of the nice ones too."

While sharing some genetics definitely didn't seem like a good sign in my family, Adam had a point. Here I was judging this guy I hadn't seen in six years. I flopped back and took a few calming deep breaths. I could hear Adam throwing stuff in his backpack.

I can do this, I reassured myself.

"OK, let's go."

We walked from Adam's house to the shop in silence. I took a couple more deep breaths as Adam opened the door.

Terry looked up from organizing pucks as we walked in and was on the verge of saying something when his older brother silenced him with a glare. He scampered off, which was good. If he had stuck around, I would have had reason to pummel him.

"Hey guys," Jesse called from behind the counter. I ignored the quick questioning glance he shot Adam. "Coach Bombay and Lane are in the back talking. Coach said to go right in."

I walked to the door. My hand hesitated a moment before pushing the door open.

My eyes quickly focused on the strange yet familiar man in the room. Lane stood as I took a step into the room.

"Dean…"

I nodded and sat down in a chair across from him. He sat back down.

"I'm glad you agreed to meet me today."

I was right that he looked like a cake-eater. He even had on a polo shirt. But he also looked like me, hair, face. I realized I had never planned anything to say. But I needed to say something.

"Why did you stop writing?" It took me a second to realize that it had been me that posed the question.

Lane sighed. "The only reason I stopped was because the letters were returned. My parents didn't want me to write, but I tried to anyway. Then one day the letters came back. I kept trying, but I figured you all had moved homes and I had no way to find the new address. But you would be amazed at what I've managed to do with a college library, and it helped that you became so famous."

"But you went to Chicago?"
"I knew you were still from there from the Goodwill Games, but they wouldn't give me any contact information for you. It was searching in Chicago that led me to Shawn, who told me where you were and that your coach was the person I should contact. Oh, and I forgot to tell you he said to tell you he's doing fine and can't wait until you and Bryn visit him in Chicago again. If you're up for it, I could see us all going together."

Why was he acting like Shawn was a good guy?

"But we won't be all together."

His voice lost some of its confidence. "I know. Shawn told me about Shane…"

"He told you?" Anger rose. "He wouldn't have told you anything true. Shawn's just a lying criminal who should rot in prison. I don't want to see him. And you don't know anything." I was now yelling. "I took care of Bryn and myself, and now you act like you can just come in here. You don't know anything!"

I stormed out of the room and upstairs. I found myself in a storage room.

The door slammed shut. The nearest box of gloves flew across the room. A stick broke in half as it hit a shelf. Pucks scattered across the floor. By the time I slid down the wall to sit, the room was a disaster area.

I put my head in my hands. Tears began welling up in my eyes. A couple minutes later, the door slowly creaked open.

"Well this beats the locker room after the first Iceland game."

I wasn't in the mood for Jesse's humor and looked up to tell him so. He and Adam stood just inside the room, with the door shut behind them. I didn't have the energy to yell at them.

"Will you kill us if we come closer?" Jesse asked.

I nodded.

"If you're speechless, you aren't in any shape to beat anyone." Jesse came forward and sat in front of me, pulling Adam across the room with him.

They just sat there for a few minutes, Jesse staring at me and Adam glancing between the two of us as if waiting for a fight to break out. If so much energy hadn't been spent on tearing up the storage room, beating Jesse would not have been out of the question.

"You can get as mad as you want that he doesn't know anything, but you didn't really give him a chance to find out," Jesse said. "I can only imagine what would have happened if Adam had shown up to our first game dressed like one of us. We wouldn't have been able to take him seriously…"

"No, you just hated me."

Jesse turned to his friend. "Adam, we're supposed to be comforting and motivational here. That doesn't help."

"I didn't know we were coming in here to lie."

Jesse glared, but continued on. "OK, it was slightly different because we didn't like Adam to begin with, so we didn't like him when he showed up. But it would have taken longer if he had shown up dressed in ripped jeans and Nirvana shirt, talking about evil cake-eaters." As he talked, Jesse reached into Adam's backpack and pulled out my bandana, which I don't remember putting in there, and tied it around Adam's head. "Now, doesn't he look ridiculous?"

Adam looked so ridiculous, I couldn't help but laugh. Jesse smiled.

"Exactly, he looks silly, which in all honesty is how you look right now," Jesse said.

"You can't expect Lane to just say the right things because he doesn't know you. When I joined the Ducks, what was really irritating was that they wouldn't pass me the puck, because as much as I was a cake-eater I was also good hockey player and they knew that. All Lane knows is what he saw about the Goodwill Games. He knows you are a Bash Brother and was expecting that. You have to give him a chance to know the real you."

"Why does it matter what I tell him? I don't even know if I want him to like me," I said.

"I don't think you would be here, dressed as a cake-eater if you didn't want to make a good impression," Jesse said.

"Well, now he's just going to think I'm some sort of angry maniac."

"And you're not?" Jesse offered. Adam groaned, while I glared. "Seriously though, whatever craziness you've got hidden, you should tell him. Adam brought your real clothes. You should change into them and come back out."

I nodded. They left the room while I changed. As I tied my bandana around my head, I couldn't help but think it was amazing how well they had read my emotions. I could usually fend off Bryn's inquiries and of course there was Fulton, but I was never close enough to anyone else for them to try. That Adam and Jesse would pick up on so much was surprising.

I glanced down at myself back in my clothes. I can do this. If I can't tell the brother I once idolize about what had happened to our family, then who could I tell?

I walked out of the room to find Adam and Jesse waiting for me. I followed them back downstairs.

Coach and Lane were sitting in awkward silence. Coach also looked a little surprised to see me standing there.

"Hey Coach, we could use some help up in the storage room," Jesse said. I was thankful for Jesse's obvious attempt to let me have a one-on-one conversation.

Coach Bombay wasn't so sure. He glanced between me and my brother nervously. He stared at me for a minute before giving in and heading upstairs. Adam and Jesse followed him.

I sat once again in front of Lane. He looked at me waiting for me to speak.