Out of Play

“You have some dirt on your forehead, old man. Maybe I’m the one who needs to clean you up.”

Gramps laughs. “Like I said, no respect. You’re lucky I love ya.”

His words make me freeze. I am lucky. I try to tell him I love him, too, but I can’t, so instead I say, “Thanks. And we’ll work on the car again soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” He gives me a small wave before I run out to meet the guys.

We drive for, like, forty-five minutes. I’m seriously starting to wonder if these guys really do want to find a place to hide my body. It’s going to suck to have to kick Pe

They’re listening to Cyclops, who I hate. The urge to tell them what a bunch of assholes they are hits me, but then remember I’m not supposed to know famous people. My head’s all out of whack after talking with Gramps—better—but still all messed up. If this sledding thing is as cool as they say, I’m anxious to get out there and do it. Hopefully, it will get my mind off of everything. Alaska’s good for that, I’m noticing. When I’m feeling a little anxious, there’s always some crazy way to burn it off.

Finally, Mitch parks the truck. We’re so far up, if it wasn’t a little too dark, I could probably see the whole valley from up here. This hill looks way bigger than anything I’ve imagined people sledding. It’s more like a cliff. When I think about sledding, I imagine Christmas movies and eight-year-old kids.

“You’re going to love this shit.” Chomps rubs his hands together. We all get out and they start throwing gear at me. It takes me a minute to get on all the stuff I wear snowmachining. Even a helmet. This must be some hardcore sledding.

Mitch grabs the sleds, Matt right behind him. They’re these thick, red plastic sleds with ridges on the bottom, and rubber pads to sit on.

It takes us another twenty minutes to hike up to the place we’re going down from.

Mitch smirks at me. “Newbies first?”

This is definitely a test. Maybe I should respect them for it, and I guess I do, but I also can’t wait to kick their asses. “Why? You scared?”

Chomps laughs and buttons up his coat. “Sounds like you’re the one who’s scared.”

Not likely. I toss my sled on the ground and hold it with my foot. There are no trees this far up, but I can see some way below. If I sled too far down, I’m going to have some serious issues dodging them.

“First time, I go alone. Second time, we race.” I don’t hear if he replies because I sit down and take off. My first thought is holy crap, they were right. This is crazy. I grab on as I lean, hoping it helps me take the turn. It feels like I’m going a million miles an hour. Almost like I’m on the snowmachine, but it’s even more intense because it just feels like it’s me flying down the mountain.

I hit a bump and, no shit, I actually become airborne. “Woo hoo!” I shout. This is incredible. I’m so glad they had the goggles and stuff. Such a rush. When another turn comes up, I lean again. I’m getting close to the bottom now. My sled hits another bump and goes even higher than it did last time. When I hit the ground again, I lose control and catapult off, rolling away from the sled. My body comes to a stop a good twenty feet from where I fell off.

Lying in the snow, I look up at the sky. My chest is going up and down way harder than it should, and I can’t catch my breath. Lying here in the cold-ass snow, all I can think about is how incredible this kind of natural high is. Way better than any kind of drugs. What I said to Gramps earlier is the right thing. This is the kind of thing I want to make me feel good, not pills.

I’m going to talk to Gary. I’m going to go to rehab.

Chapter Twenty

Pe

No one’s saying the “grounded” word, but what else is it when it’s the night before my big game, and I’m not allowed to go out with the guys? Mom and I have passed each other in stony silence dozens of times since I explained, again, that I fell asleep by accident at Bishop’s house. Nothing I say seems to matter. She’s struggling with what to say, too, but neither of us knows how to start.

I liked Mom better when she was spending too much time at work, or screwing Ben, or whatever else she’s doing that she isn’t telling me about.

“Loosen that frown, Lucky Girl.” Gramps rubs a dirty hand across my forehead. “Bishop can handle himself with those boys.”

I lean against the dusty garage wall and fold my arms. “Bishop’s as crazy as the rest of them. He’ll love it. It’s Mom that’s making me insane.”

Gramps nods and starts opening drawers in the toolbox. He does this when he’s not sure what to work on next. He’ll pick a tool and then pick the job that goes with the tool. I’ve always loved this about him.

I push off the wall and slump into one of the greasy camp chairs resting in the garage.

“No, no.” Gramps shakes his head. “You don’t need to talk to me, you need to go talk to that mom of yours.”

“Pfft.” Not likely.

He chuckles. “I just had this talk with the boy. You like him, don’t you?”

I nod and am only a little successful in hiding my smile. “A lot.”

Gramps’s eyes light up. “He’s got history, you know? But those people are the best kind because they already know what’s out there and are ready to figure out what they really want. Do you know what you really want?”

I’m not ready to answer that question. “You going to give me the great opportunities are in front of you speech? The sky is the limit?” If he brings Bishop around to college and leaving, I might freak out.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Go talk to your mom. I think she has a lot of guilt stored up over this and over starting to fall for someone new. Try to see this from her point of view. I’m sure she’s been afraid to say anything. Just give her a chance to explain before you come at her with your attitude.”

I stand. “Fine, fine. I’ll go.”

“I’m not trying to scare you off. I want you to have some of the pie I made this morning and tell me that I’m a regular renaissance man because I’m so multi-talented.” Gramps winks.

I stop in the doorway. “Anything else?”

He pauses for a moment, his brows pulling together. “Bishop asked me to do something, and I can’t for the life of me remember what it was. You got any ideas?”

“None.”

Confusion fills his features before his face relaxes. “It’ll come to me. Good luck with your mom.”

Right.

He’s engrossed the moment he leans over the engine. Apparently, he found the tool he wanted to work with.

As I hit the top of the stairs to grab some di

“I’ll need to get the story on that kid. He’s obviously a bad influence. I’ve never had to worry about her before. I’m so sorry about the outburst… No, of course it’s not your fault. She’s just a kid… Yeah, I know… She has a temper, that’s all.”

Mom sighs. I ball my hands into fists. Kid? Playing off how pissed I am because of my temper? What the hell? Who is she talking to? It can’t be—

“I know, Ben. I want to see you, too.”

My whole body tenses. She’s talking about me to her boyfriend?

“Once we work past how she’s dealing with this, it’ll all be fine, and she’s heading off to college soon.”

What, does she want me out of here so she can hang with her man anytime she wants? It hurts to breathe. My fingernails press into my palms.