Thirst (9 page)

Read Thirst Online

Authors: Ilia Bera

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #New Adult & College, #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Contemporary Fiction, #Short Stories, #Werewolves & Shifters

 

CHAPTER SIXTY

THE FENNER FAMILY

 

Wade found himself sitting in his car outside of his house, staring out into oblivion as his brain mulled over the things Brittany said to him. All of the lights were on inside of his home, and he could see his wife walking around the kitchen, preparing dinner.

 

Upstairs, through Michael’s bedroom window, Wade could see Michael practicing his wrist shot, shooting pucks into his upright mattress. Michael was shirtless, dripping with sweat from hours of hard practicing.

 

Not only had Wade let down countless struggling students, he had let down his son. Wade was Michael’s idol—his coach, his father, and his mentor.

 

Had Wade not been such a know-it-all, who knows what kind of heights Michael could have reached?

 

Wade always had to be right, and when Michael tried something different, Wade was quick to tell his son he was wrong.

 

It was because of Wade that Michael became an enforcer. It was the way Wade taught him to play. Because of Wade, Michael was no longer a professional hockey player.

 

What gave Wade the right to tell his son how to play? Wade was good in his day, but he was not the best. Who was Wade to tell his son to respect him? Guy never muttered the word respect to Wade. Never once in Guy’s life did he mutter the words “respect me.”

 

The icy cold air began to penetrate the car door. It was time to head inside. Hands deep in his pockets, Wade walked up to his house. Brittany’s voice was still ringing through his head.

 

“There you are! I was worried sick about you!” Laura said as she stepped out of the kitchen.

 

“Sorry—I got caught up at work,” Wade said.

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“You look like a ghost.”

 

“Oh—I’m just tired.”

 

Laura turned back to the kitchen to continue preparing dinner. “Tired of dealing with those disrespectful little brats all day?” she said, impersonating her husband. She laughed.

 

“What did you say?” Wade said.

 

“Huh?”

 

“What did you just say?”

 

“I asked if you’re tired of dealing with the kids.”

 

“No—What did you say—Exactly?”

 

Laura stared at her husband. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

“Yeah, I just want to make sure I heard you right.”

 

“Maybe you should lay down.”

 

“Did you call them disrespectful little brats?” Wade asked.

 

“Yeah—It was a joke, Wade. I was kidding.”

 

“Oh,” Wade said. “Right...”

 

“It was supposed to be a funny impression. I guess I should stick to housekeeping.”

 

“An impression of who?” Wade asked.

 

“It was that bad, huh?”

 

“Of me?”

 

“Yes—but it was a joke, dear. Here, let me get you a Tylenol. Go sit down.”

 

Wade turned around and walked over to the couch. Laura walked over moments later with a glass of water and two Tylenol pills. “Take these,” she said.

 

Wade stared at his wife in silence for a moment.

 

“You’re scaring me, darling. What is it?”

 

“Am I a bad teacher?” Wade asked.

 

“What? No—Of course not. Why would you say something like that?”

 

“A student told me that I was.”

 

“Let me guess—A student who happens to be doing badly in the class?”

 

“No—Well, yes. But she isn’t dumb. She’s actually not dumb at all.” There was a tone of surprise behind Wade’s voice.

 

“Wade—you’re the best teacher in the town. You’re doing something for those kids that no one else will—Did you tell her that?”

 

“That’s the problem! I did tell her that!”

 

“That’s the problem?” Laura asked.

 

“Yes. That’s precisely what is wrong with me. That’s what I need to change!”

 

“I think you might have a fever. Let me take your temperature.”

 

“I don’t have a fever, Laura. I’m just—I’m just tired of letting people down. I don’t want to let her down. I don’t want to let another student down.”

 

“Her?”

 

“Brittany—the student.”

 

“You aren’t letting her down, sweetie.”

 

“Yeah I am! Even though I know I’m wrong, I can’t change. I’m afraid of looking weak.

 

“Okay—Well, let’s get to the bottom of this. In order for Brittany to do well in your class, what needs to change?”

 

“She needs to respect me.”

 

“So tell her that.”

 

Wade threw his head back and his body went limp in defeat. “I need her to respect me without me caring about her respecting me.”

 

“After twenty-five years together, I still don’t understand you.” Laura smiled.

 

“If Brittany fails my class—or any other class ever—then I am a failure, and I don’t deserve to teach.”

 

“Is this a mid-life crisis?”

 

“No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s me waking up—me being born again.”

 

“I already have a newborn. I don’t need another one.”

 

“I’ve got it,” Wade said.

 

Laura walked over to the staircase. “Michael! Come downstairs for dinner!” she called out.

 

“I’ll be right down!” Michael called back.

 

“I’m going to cancel the next assignment. Instead, they’ll all write a paper about their idol—what makes their idol a good person, and how they could embody those qualities.”

 

“That sounds lovely, dear. Come get some dinner.”

 

Michael ran down the stairs. “Hey dad,” he said.

 

“Hey. You’re all sweaty,” Wade observed.

 

“There’s a Utica Comets tryout in Prince George in two weeks. They’re picking four guys to bring down to their training camp. I’m going to make the trip down.”

 

“Really?” Wade asked.

 

“Yeah. They announced it this morning. It’s totally private—Invite only.”

 

“Michael got an invite from the coach himself,” Laura said with pride.

 

“I’ll come,” Wade said.

 

Laura and Michael both turned and looked at Wade with surprise.

 

“Really?” Michael said.

 

“Yeah—I want to be there,” Wade said.

 

Michael laughed. “They probably won’t let you tryout,” he joked.

 

“I want to be there. Is that so strange? What’s so strange about that?” Wade asked.

 

“Yeah—It’s cool. It’s just—remember last time?” Michael said sheepishly.

 

“What last time?” Wade asked. “What happened the last time?”

 

“When I was fourteen, trying out for The Moose—you kept leaning over the boards and telling me the coach was an idiot. Then you yelled at the ref, and you kept telling me to shoot five-hole, because that was the goalie’s weak spot—even though the coach kept telling me to shoot the corners?”

 

“But you made the team,” Laura said. “Thanks to your father’s advice.”

 

“I know I did—but…”

 

“I just want to watch—see all those new skills you’ve got,” Wade said.

 

“Really?” Michael said, still not sure what to believe. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

 

“Really.”

 

“Cool. Yeah—I’d love for you to come.”

 

“Ready to eat?” Laura asked.

 

“Where’s Cassie?” Wade asked looking around the room for his daughter.

 

“She’s at another sleepover. I guess she’s finishing up some big assignment for school with her friends and they wanted to make a fun weekend out of it.”

 

“She’s sixteen. She’s too old to be having sleepovers,” Wade said.

 

“Every girl has sleepovers, Wade. I have friends my age who still have sleepovers.”

 

“Those aren’t sleepovers, Laura. Those are lesbians,” Wade said.

 

“For the last time, Jenna and Darlene are not lesbians!” Laura laughed.

 

“Who is Cassie sleeping over with?” Michael asked.

 

“Her friend Vanessa,” Laura said.

 

“Vanessa? The girl with the blonde hair and the lip ring?” Michael asked.

 

“Why?” Wade asked, noticing his son’s sudden worried apprehension.

 

“Oh—I don’t know. I just don’t know about that girl,” Michael said.

 

“She seems nice enough. Her parents are so funny,” Laura said. “I’ll go set the table.”

 

Wade could see that something was bothering his son. “What is it?” Wade asked, quietly enough that his wife could not hear.

 

“I’ve seen that girl at frat parties,” Michael whispered.

 

“Cassie can handle herself around drunk frat guys,” Wade said.

 

“It’s not drunk frat guys I’m worried about.”

 

“What are you worried about?”

 

“I don’t know—It’s probably nothing.”

 

“What is it, Michael?”

 

“There’s this party that a bunch of bikers throw every year—it’s where some buddies of mine were headed tonight.”

 

“Bikers?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Wade stared at his son for a moment.

 

“Come eat!” Laura yelled.

 

“Go get your sister. Don’t freak out your mother,” Wade said.

 

Wade looked his son in the eyes. Both men felt it—that strange pulsing shiver in their spine. Perhaps it was just the mutual worry for Cassie, or perhaps it was something else—or perhaps it was absolutely nothing at all.

 

Wade turned around and walked towards the kitchen, feeling that strange tingling in his body growing stronger.

 

“Let’s eat!” Wade said, forcing a smile.

 

“Michael, are you coming?” Laura called out to the living room.

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