I slowly opened my eyes and blinked a few times. It was all a dream—no, it was a nightmare. It's over now. I threw back my covers and stood up, I pushed my weight onto my ankle, it was sore, but it felt much stronger. I looked out the window of my room and saw trees upon trees, something that I was not used to saying. I just leaned against the pane and allowed myself to get lost in my thoughts.
So much had happened. I had gotten better—mostly, and worst of all. We moved. With everything that had happened in the past few years, I tried not to let the moving touch me. I stayed far away from everybody. I just couldn't take the pain of leaving everyone behind, so instead I only hurt them more. I remember finally leaving the hospital. I remember finally being able to go home, only to realize my mother had already moved most of our things out. She was not losing any time on this. I was still angry with her, how could I not? I suppose I could've begged to stay, but deep down I realized that I wasn't sure if I wanted too. Did I really fit in with the Ducks? It didn't matter now. My hockey career was ruined. No schools wanted me, my scholarship offers were politely taken off the table.
I sighed and rubbed my temples. The migraines wouldn't stop. The doctors said it was a side effect of suffering a concussion, and I would probably have to deal with them for a while. But the pain didn't matter. I felt nothing anymore. I had become this incredible shell of a person. I put on a fantastic act, but on the inside, nothing. Empty.
"Adam?" my mother's voice rang up the stairs, her tone short. I had done something to piss her off and it was only 9:30 in the morning.
"Coming," I said a little too quickly. I stood at the window for a few more seconds, looking longingly into the forest of trees whishing I could hide away.
"ADAM!" my mother's tone was fuming and I knew I was in real trouble now.
I walked downstairs and found my mother standing in the kitchen holding a letter. "It says here you haven't shown up for class in over a week. Do you wish to explain yourself?" Her face was turning very red and a twitch was forming by her eye.
I know I shouldn't have found humor in the situation, but I did, I just didn't care about her anger anymore. I stifled my laugh into a cough and dared to look my mother in the face. "Well, um, if I had a good excuse I'd give you one, but I don't. So yes, they are right; I haven't been going to class." Since I had an entire term to finish, my mother decided it would be best to be enrolled in the local high school, which turned out to be a complete joke. It was a public school, and I had already covered most of the academics at Eden Hall. "Look, mom, I'm not trying to act smart, but honestly, there is no reason for me to go there. Can't I just take the test to earn my diploma?"
My mother sighed. Deep down, she probably realized that it was pointless for me to attend class, but I think she made me go in hopes that I would make new friends and attend parties or something. But that just wasn't me. I may have been considered a prep, but I would never want to associate with them, nor them with me. Not good enough for the preps and too good for the Ducks. I hate being in the middle.
"Fine, do whatever you want," my mother snapped at me. "I'm going to work and you can just sit around like you always do."
I knew I was hurting her, but I wasn't trying to do it on purpose. It just seemed to happen. Filling up a glass of water, I downed my medication and then went back to my room. I turned on my computer and checked my mail. Letters from most of the Ducks were in there. Multiple ones at that. I read most of them, but I never replied. I knew was being a lousy friend, but I wasn't trying to do that on purpose either. My head hurt, I just wanted to lie down.
I flopped onto my bed and pulled the covers over my face hoping that when I woke up the pain in my heart would go away.
By the time I woke up it was past dinnertime. The sound of forks scraping against plates signified my mother and Dan had already started dinner—without me. I wasn't surprised though. They did this all the time.
I started to walk into the dining room when I saw the table had been set in my mother's good china, candles were lit, and a vase of red roses was in the middle. My mother was holding a wine glass, allowing Dan to top it off. She looked so happy, as he raised his glass to toast hers. I didn't have the heart to interrupt, and quietly turned around before they could see me.
Wandering back upstairs, I heard my phone ringing. I checked the caller ID, it said "unknown caller" but I decided to pick it up anyways. "Hello?"
"Adam?" a male voice inquired.
"Who is this?" the voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it.
"It's Coach Bombay."
I took a sharp intake of breath before I finally exhaled, "Hi, Coach…" my enthusiasm was coming somewhere from my shoes. I really didn't want to talk about anything.
Either Bombay couldn't hear my monotonous tone, or he was choosing to ignore it, "How are you?"
"Fine," I answered in that obligatory manner, "You?"
"We miss you, Adam, all of us, the Ducks, Coach Orion, me."
"Oh…" What the hell do you say to that?!
"I am just calling to tell you that you need to pack a bag, I'm coming to pick you up in 20 minutes."
"What?" I had no idea what was going on.
"We wanted to surprise you. The Ducks are playing a tournament in Detroit and we want to see you. Your mother already knows, so I am calling to tell you to get ready, I will see you then."
"Wait!" But I was cut off. I let the dial tone ring in my ear a few seconds before I finally hung up the phone.
I was going to see the Ducks.