With how she had mouthed off to Tom on the way to the Marauders game the day before, Kyla was sure her mom would ground her. But when Kyla got home from school on Wednesday afternoon, Mom didn’t say a word about it.
Kyla went to her room, opened her laptop, and started on her homework. But she couldn’t concentrate on any of it. Her frustration about Tom had been eating her up inside. It was affecting her game, and it was affecting her relationship with her mom.
She had to stop holding back. She had to take charge.
Kyla went downstairs. She found her mom in the living room, reading a book.
“Hey, Mom?” Kyla started. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Her mom looked up. “About Tom?” she guessed.
Kyla nodded.
“That’s what I thought,” Mom said with a sigh. “So Tom and I have decided it would be best if —”
“No!” Kyla broke in. “Don’t break up just because of me!”
“No, that’s not it,” Mom said quickly. “We’ve decided he should stay away from your games and practices for a while.”
Kyla let out a breath and nodded. “It would be nice if he didn’t come to all my practices,” she admitted. Then she paused. “But I don’t mind that he comes to my games. Not really. I just don’t want him talking to the coaches, or trying to give me so much advice. I want to play without him interfering all the time. If he can do that, we’ll be good.”
“He does get a bit overenthusiastic,” Mom agreed.
Kyla sighed, thankful her mom understood. “He’s like an armchair quarterback. You know, the kind who think they know everything but have never even stepped foot on the field.”
Mom’s smile faded. “Maybe you should talk to him,” she said.
Kyla chewed her lip. “I . . . I wouldn’t know what to say. Can’t you just tell him?”
“I think you need to talk to him,” Mom answered. “Who knows? You might be surprised by how much you have in common.”
* * *
Thursday morning, Kyla woke early and stared out her window at the lightening sky. She didn’t have practice until after school, but her legs itched to get out on the ice.
Kyla scribbled a note to her mom. At the pond for a quick skate. Have my phone. Will be back soon.
After grabbing her skates, she walked the few blocks to the pond. It was nearly empty — there was only one skater slowly gliding in big circles on the north end.
Kyla laced up her skates and stepped onto the ice. She’d just stay at the south end, out of the other person’s way. She started skating small laps.
This feels so good, Kyla thought. Just being on my skates. Sometimes I wish I had skates for feet! She giggled aloud at that mental picture.
At her laughter, the other skater looked over. Their eyes met. It was Tom.
Kyla skidded to a stop. She’d had no idea Tom could skate. He’d never once mentioned it.
Tom gave a small wave and kept skating. But Kyla skated closer and waited in the middle of the pond for him to make another lap. As he neared her, she held out her hand. “Hey, Tom!”
He came to a stop next to her. “Hey! Getting ready for tomorrow’s game?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just clearing my head.” Kyla gestured to his skates. “I didn’t know you skated.”
Tom nodded. “I come out here every morning before work. It’s a great way to start the day.”
“Definitely!” Kyla agreed. “Do you ever skate with my mom?”
Tom laughed. “No, she’d probably skate circles around me. I’m not that great anymore.”
“Anymore?” Kyla asked.
Tom was silent for a moment. Then he sighed. “I was the starting center on my high school team up until senior year. I’m lucky I still have all my teeth!” He forced a laugh. “I had a college scholarship in the works. My big dream was to play for the NHL. Now I’m an accountant instead.”
Kyla frowned. “What happened senior year?”
“I tore my ACL. First game of the season too. Lost my scholarship. Lost my dream . . .” Tom’s voice sounded pained, and he trailed off. Then he shook his head quickly. “It’s all in the past, though.”
Kyla was speechless for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
“Honestly, I tried to forget all about hockey,” Tom replied. “But then I saw you play. You have the same drive I once had.”
Kyla was silent for a second. “Maybe you could give me some tips,” she said slowly. Tom opened his mouth to speak, but Kyla quickly went on. “But not with words. Actually show me, out here on the ice.”
“Well, I suppose I could dig out my old hockey stick,” Tom said. “There’s this great play we used at the championship game my junior year . . .”
As Tom went on excitedly, Kyla couldn’t help but roll her eyes while she grinned. He was still the same Tom. But somehow talking to him, knowing he’d played hockey, made him not quite as annoying.
“One more thing,” Kyla said when he’d finally stopped talking. “I don’t need you giving me advice all the time, though. It gets old. And please don’t talk to the coaches about me. I don’t think they like it. I don’t, either.”
Tom sighed. “I have so many opinions! Sorry, I know I have a big mouth. I’ll try to shut it.”
“I’ve got a big mouth sometimes too,” Kyla told him. “So, see you at tomorrow’s game?”
Tom smiled. “Only if you want me there,” he said.
Kyla smiled back. She knew that her mom loved Tom and that he was a part of her life. It was time to accept it and give Tom a chance. Or at least try. “I definitely do,” she said.