I got to sit near Adam at dinner, well not really. I didn't get to share a booth with him like I wanted, I had to sit in my chair at the end of the table. Still it was nice, he talked to me allot. Mostly about hockey, I didn't want to tell him I had no flipping clue what he was babbling about, so I didn't. He's so cute. I guess this is what a crush feels like.
They just brought me home, Charlie drove and Fulton is in the process of taking me out of the car.
"Okay Reed, don't drop me." I giggle as he spins me around.
Charlie scowls. "Fult, put her down before Orion kills you."
"Good idea dude." Fulton puts me back into my wheelchair and I start up the ramp.
I can my father pacing back and forth in front of the picture window and I'm certain he's about to ware a hole in the rug. I sigh and turn the doorknob. Charlie's behind me because he wants to say hello to my mother, she's no where to be found however. First my father kisses my cheek and then scolds his team captain for having my home late. Which he actually hasn't done, since there was no set time for me to be back.
"I'll see you later Becky, I'm gonna get going before that vein in your dad's neck explodes." Charlie whispers and exits through the front door.
"Where's mom?" I ask looking around the spacious parlor.
Our house is huge, and posh, mostly because the board gave it to daddy if he agreed to coach here. It was already furnished when we moved in. I'm sure allot of people would like it, tons of girls my age would be happy to call this place home, just not me. It doesn't feel right to me, it feels cold and empty. Like the people living here aren't a loving family.
"You're mother is…" My father began, sitting on the edge of the couch. "I don't know where you're mother is."
"Oh. Um, I had fun today with the team dad. Averman and Russ were cracking jokes all night and one time Julie laughed so hard she spit soda out of her nose. But the funniest part is when the soda came out it flew across the table and pegged Dwayne in the forehead."
"Glad you had a good time sweetie." He replied, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.
After some random channel flicking, he found ESPN and stopped. He settled in the corner of the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. My dad let out a loud sigh and I knew what that meant. On the screen was two hockey teams, one in jersey's reading 'Minnesota Wild' the others 'Dallas Stars'. Both teams he could be playing for, one a team he should be playing for. If it weren't for me and my stupid doctors and this dumb ass chair, he would be. He could be on the road traveling with Mike Modano, but because of me he can't.
I frown and shake my head, go into the kitchen for a can of coke and then to my room. With tired, yet strong arms, I hoist myself from my chair, on to my bed and stare up at the ceiling. For all the guilt and self blame he feels for my accident, I feel ten times more for costing him his career. I've lived with that everyday for the past eight years.
I've noticed something recently too, my father seems to be getting more depressed as of late. He only really smiles when he's with the Ducks. But when he gets home, he sort of shuts down and becomes nothing more then live size throw pillow on the sofa. I think my mom's realizes something's up too, she hasn't been home much lately. Not that I blame her, when they are together all they do is fight.
I dunno, sometimes being the coach's daughter isn't all it's crack up to be.
They just brought me home, Charlie drove and Fulton is in the process of taking me out of the car.
"Okay Reed, don't drop me." I giggle as he spins me around.
Charlie scowls. "Fult, put her down before Orion kills you."
"Good idea dude." Fulton puts me back into my wheelchair and I start up the ramp.
I can my father pacing back and forth in front of the picture window and I'm certain he's about to ware a hole in the rug. I sigh and turn the doorknob. Charlie's behind me because he wants to say hello to my mother, she's no where to be found however. First my father kisses my cheek and then scolds his team captain for having my home late. Which he actually hasn't done, since there was no set time for me to be back.
"I'll see you later Becky, I'm gonna get going before that vein in your dad's neck explodes." Charlie whispers and exits through the front door.
"Where's mom?" I ask looking around the spacious parlor.
Our house is huge, and posh, mostly because the board gave it to daddy if he agreed to coach here. It was already furnished when we moved in. I'm sure allot of people would like it, tons of girls my age would be happy to call this place home, just not me. It doesn't feel right to me, it feels cold and empty. Like the people living here aren't a loving family.
"You're mother is…" My father began, sitting on the edge of the couch. "I don't know where you're mother is."
"Oh. Um, I had fun today with the team dad. Averman and Russ were cracking jokes all night and one time Julie laughed so hard she spit soda out of her nose. But the funniest part is when the soda came out it flew across the table and pegged Dwayne in the forehead."
"Glad you had a good time sweetie." He replied, picking up the remote and turning on the TV.
After some random channel flicking, he found ESPN and stopped. He settled in the corner of the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. My dad let out a loud sigh and I knew what that meant. On the screen was two hockey teams, one in jersey's reading 'Minnesota Wild' the others 'Dallas Stars'. Both teams he could be playing for, one a team he should be playing for. If it weren't for me and my stupid doctors and this dumb ass chair, he would be. He could be on the road traveling with Mike Modano, but because of me he can't.
I frown and shake my head, go into the kitchen for a can of coke and then to my room. With tired, yet strong arms, I hoist myself from my chair, on to my bed and stare up at the ceiling. For all the guilt and self blame he feels for my accident, I feel ten times more for costing him his career. I've lived with that everyday for the past eight years.
I've noticed something recently too, my father seems to be getting more depressed as of late. He only really smiles when he's with the Ducks. But when he gets home, he sort of shuts down and becomes nothing more then live size throw pillow on the sofa. I think my mom's realizes something's up too, she hasn't been home much lately. Not that I blame her, when they are together all they do is fight.
I dunno, sometimes being the coach's daughter isn't all it's crack up to be.