(Hockey Bxb) Whistle In The Wind -𝐈-

╔══《”I’ll say I’m happy for her,》══╗
then I’ll cry myself to sleep.”

        Váli sat with his hands on his knees catching his breath. Practice had been rough that
day, and he found that each skill he attempted to perform ended in a hard fall. His butt was sore and his legs were cramping. He had taken his protective gloves off at some point, now noticing the redness in his bare hands.

       Bringing his cold hands to his face, he sighed heavily. Some days were like this– unavoidable, but annoying. He stood up, heading toward the rink door. Trying to clear his mind, he placed one foot on the ice before pushing off and gliding onto the open rink. It was empty and level, the Zamboni having smoothed the ice the previous night. It was just how he liked it.

       Closing his eyes, Váli slowly began skating around in wide circles. He knew where the walls were, like it was a sixth sense. He would turn and skate backward, letting the cold air hit his face in the familiar and comforting way he was used to.

       He felt completely relaxed, the tension releasing from his body and mind with each new lap. Distantly, he heard the familiar movement and commotion–that had been present all day–die down into a silence. All was still.

       With a final breath, he opened his eyes. The fluorescent light blinded him for a mere second. Without hesitation Váli began skating backward, crossing his right leg over his left in methodological crossovers. When nearing the end of the rink, he brought his feet together and his arms, which were previously up and facing inward, down by his side.

       Swiftly, he bent his right leg like a flamingo before bringing it up into the air and crossing it behind his left leg to tap the ice. Simultaneously, he brought his left arm up and his right arm back to gain momentum. The moment he tapped the ice, he jumped while twisting his body counterclockwise. The momentum spun his body in the air thrice before he landed on his right foot. Delicately, his left foot extended backward as he finished the jump.

       The moment he landed, clapping echoed throughout the large rink. He glanced over to the edge, noticing a frequent face. He quickly but elegantly skated over. Váli t-stopped at the edge, placing his cold hands on the thick railing.

       “Faen (damn) Váli, that was impressive,” His brother whistled, causing him to cringe at the words.

       “No it wasn’t. It was a flutz.” He responded, sighing.

       “Er det et nytt hopp? (Is that a new jump?)” Aksel asked curiously.

       Face palming, Váli could only respond with humor, “Nei, dumt (No, stupid). It was supposed to be a triple lutz but I accidentally turned on the inner side of my skate instead of the outer side. Similarly to how u do in a flip jump. Ville det telle ikke i konkurransen (It would not count in competition).” He responded, shaking his head.

       “Ahhh,” Aksel smiled. “If it makes you feel better, it looks syk (sick).” Aksel smirked while        reaching up to bump Váli’s arm.

       “Sick isn’t gonna cut it in competition,” He scoffed, shaking his head.

        Aksel shrugged casually before continuing, “I’m heading home, so if you want a ride, skynd dere (hurry up).” Nodding, Váli skated toward the exit, pulling the door open and stepping out next to the bench with his belongings. Immediately, he put skate covers over his blades before walking over to the shoe locker room. When inside, he quickly unlaced his skates while replacing them with a pair of ordinary sneakers.

       Trying not to annoy his brother, Váli rushed out and headed for the familiar truck. Váli hated his brother’s truck. It was big, impractical, and worst of all, it was a stick shift. This meant he couldn’t drive it even if he wanted to. He huffed, his mood dampened just by looking at the ugly machine.

       While he approached the truck, he watched his brother wave bye to someone, Axel’s best friend. The two have been joined at the hip for as long as Váli can remember, and his face never failed to make Váli scowl.

       As he arrived at the car, he smiled, trying to play off the fact that his heart had stopped beating. Not noticing his facade, Vál’s brother glanced at him with a carefree smile before buckling his seatbelt and turning the key in the ignition, the truck roaring to life.

       “How was practice?” Aksel asked while turning the radio on and reversing out of the parking spot. Váli responded by placing his head on the window and sighing. “DÃ¥rlig (Bad), huh?” He huffed. “Det er ok. Noen dager er silk (It’s okay, some days are like that).” He reassured his younger brother.

       “I can’t afford to have bad days,” Váli complained, sitting up to stare at the road in front of them.

       “Sikker at du kan (Sure you can).”

       “Nei, det kan jeg ikke (No I can’t.)”

       “Og hvorfor ikke (And why not?)”

       “The Keystone Skate Competition is soon, and if I want to qualify for the Skate Games of America, I have to win States first.” Váli rambled mindlessly.

       “Dude, isn’t that like, months away?” Aksel questioned.

       “W-well technically, but it’s never too late to practice for it.”

       “Uansett hva du sier, Vál (Whatever you say,Vál.)” Aksel said, their conversation dying off. For the rest of the car ride, the gentle hum of the radio was the only thing filling the silence.

        The rink was close to their house. They lived in an average house in an average neighborhood in an average town in Pennsylvania, arguably the most average state.

        Suburbia is where they called home, and Váli hated it. He hated small town life. He hated his school, where everyone was connected through drama, where jokes never truly die, and where the worst years of his life were spent.

       His lack of friends made school especially hard for Váli, struggling to get through every day–his only motivation being figure skating.

       It was well into the school year now, the season changing with the leaves. As Váli stared out the truck window, he found himself mesmerized with the orange and yellow foliage. Relaxing in the worn seat, he tapped his finger against his leg gently. He hummed to the song playing on the radio–a shitty, trendy pop song.

       Suddenly, the sound of the car ignition turning off made him aware of their destination. His brother had already climbed out of the truck, not sparing him a second glance as he popped the trunk and began hauling his hockey gear out. Hurryingly, Váli followed his brother’s lead, opening his door and stepping out of the raised truck onto their paved driveway. His legs felt like jelly under his body weight, and he cursed under his breath–knowing he over worked himself at practice.

       The dull ache in his butt and thighs had worsened and he found himself grabbing the side of the truck for support. By the time he steadied himself, he faintly heard the front door slam shut.

        His brother was never one to hang around. Váli quickly hurried to pick up his bag and follow his brother inside. He glanced over the driveway, noting that neither of his parents’ cars were present. Like usual. He thought while heading inside. They both spent most of their lives working, caring little for their sons.

        Váli couldn’t find it in himself to be mad anymore, growing used to the neglect. Despite the lack of people in his house, he was accustomed to the noise of chatter when he opened the front door. Cackling echoed through the large rooms. Aksel’s high-pitched laughter was a common sound in his household. If he wasn’t sleeping, he was calling his best friend.

       Váli walked into the kitchen for a snack, discovering that the origin of the laugh was sitting at the kitchen table eating a tub of ice cream. Making a bee-line for the fridge, he opened it and pulled out a cheese stick.

        Taking his time, Váli peeled small and delicate strings from the cheese. Engrossed in the activity, he spared his brother one look before pausing mid bite. Aksel was looking at him, holding in a laugh. “What’s wrong?” Váli asked.

       “You eat cheese sticks so funnily.” Aksel responded, finally bursting out into laughter.

       “Unnskyld meg (Excuse me). I eat cheese sticks the right way.” Váli asserted with a frown.

       “Luc, Luc” Aksel began before bursting into more laughter while looking down at his propped up phone. “Do you–like–peel your cheese sticks, or just bite them?” He questioned mid laugh.

       Faintly through the phone, Váli heard a smooth voice respond. “Dude, everybody knows you’re supposed to peel them.”

       “Nahh, that takes too long,” Aksel rebutted with a look of shock and betrayal on his face.

        “He agreed with me,” Váli smirked, reaching over to smack his brother’s arm.

       “You were supposed to take my side, Luc. You’re my best friend,” Aksel whined.

        “Sorry man, but your brother’s correct,” he shrugged through the facetime call.

       “Ugh whatever,” the older one complained, “Kom deg vekk herfa Vál (Get out of here Vál.)” Without having to be told twice, Vál hopped away swinging his bag over his shoulder and heading for the stairs.

        The carpeted stairs quieted his steps as he bounded up, wasting no time to hastily grab his necessities and run for the bathroom.

        Flinging the door open and then closed again behind him, he made his way right to the shower. He pushed open the glass door before stripping and turning the water on. Immediately, the hot water poured out of the shower head like rain during a storm. Váli instantly found comfort and relaxation under the boiling stream.

       His muscles began to truly relax as the hot water pelted his skin. At that moment, he didn’t care if his skin would turn bright red in pain as a result of the water temperature. His mind was finally at ease in the steaminess of the water. Finding his vision to be blurry, he leaned against the wall for support.

        Reaching up, Váli used his pointer finger to draw smiley faces on the glass door. He would cover the surface with them before taking his hand and wiping them all away. Then, he would close his eyes for a minute while the glass got foggy again. He repeated this process, drawing swirls and squiggles.

       Barely remembering to wash his body and hair, the blond rushed to finish his shower routine before he used up all the hot water. Suds of soap poured down his pale skin, cleaning grime and sweat off every surface of his body.

       Thirty minutes later, he stepped out of the steamy shower. His hair felt clean and his body smelt of his peach body wash. The white towel wrapped around his torso provided little warmth from the cold bathroom air. Váli resisted the urge to turn around and step back into the shower.

        Sighing, he quickly dressed in fluffy pajama pants and a sweatshirt two sizes too big. He brushed his hair before running a t-shirt through it, squeezing out the excess water.

       He hummed a song quietly to himself as he finally opened the bathroom door and headed for his room. Upon entering his room, Váli immediately threw his aching body on his bed. The sun had long set, the only light in his room coming from the small desk lamp by his window. He realized, subconsciously, that he no longer heard voices in the house.

       They must’ve ended their call. He thought hazily. Slowly, he climbed up, struggling to get under the many layers of blankets tightly folded on his bed. The moment he was situated, he reached for his phone on his bedside table. With his eyes still closed, and in a sluggish and delirious state of mind, he fought around with it while struggling to get it plugged in.

       Without realizing that his phone was unlocked. His consciousness slipped away as soon as he managed to connect his phone to the charger. In a far away place, he heard the faint buzz of vibrations, but he drifted off before he was able to form a coherent explanation…

Question of the chapter: Do you guys bite your cheese sticks or peel them?

╚══《Word Count- 2,064》══╝

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