I grumble but know he’s right. Sitting off to the side, I watch the team interact. Joel and I are the only seniors. Aside from one lone junior, the team is made up of sophomores and freshmen. They’re good guys, good players, even, but young and inexperienced.

Most of them are only a year or two older than Heath. God willing, next year he’ll be off at college trying to fit in with a team just like this. That makes me pay a little closer attention and think a little harder on how I can help.

But first, I fire off a text to check in.

Me: What’s up, little bro? Haven’t heard from ya. How’s hockey?

I’ve learned not to come out of the gate asking about Mom or he shuts down and I don’t get any information.

Heath: Good. Uncle Doug is taking me to NMU next week to visit. Coach Frazier is gonna let me skate with the team.

Me: That’s awesome. Congrats.

I hesitate.

Me: Mom going?

Heath: Doubt it.

I pocket my phone with plans to call my mom later and talk to her. Not going with him is… well, it’s shitty. And I’m tired of her flaking and making excuses. I know that her pain is different. I lost a dad, but she lost a husband… not the same, I get it, but Heath still needs her.

When Wes shows up, most the guys don’t even bat an eye. He’s a likable coach. God knows why he’s such a grumpy bastard.

He grabs a beer from the kitchen and takes a seat next to me. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Fine.” I take a drink from my beer and watch the TV. Shaw and Fresh are playing NBA 2K20. “How are you?”

“Fine,” he says in a mocking tone and shakes his head. “Seriously, how are you? Blair tells me you and the volleyball chick are serious.”

“You wanna have girl talk?”

“Or I could just come right out and ask about the rest of the shit going on?”

“Chloe and I are just dating, but I like her. She’s cool.” I might be downplaying my feelings, but a few obstacles still stand in the way. Most importantly, I need to return the money she paid me. It feels all wrong now that I know how she feels, but it puts me back at square one—needing paper.

Wes chuckles. “Dodging like a pro. Nice.”

I lower my voice. “I’m not using. You’ve seen my piss tests.”

“And dealing?”

I shoot him a death glare and start to stand.

“Stop. Sit. I’m sorry, man. I’m just worried. You totally blindsided me. I knew you were struggling, but I had no idea it was that bad.” He sounds sincere so I sit back down.