Free Thirst by Ilia Bera Page A

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,