What’s worse than Monday is being late for first class. Jason had spare first so I couldn't get a drive. I had to run to school which was never fun. When I was in the office getting a late slip, the secretary gave me the “your fifteen you should be on time,” look. I took my slip and headed down the quiet halls. As I passed the boy’s washroom I could hear laughing. Curious I opened it to see a group of grade 12’s surrounded by a stall.
They laughed shouting, “One more flush! He looks like he’s enjoying this!”
I didn’t know what they were doing till I heard someone gasp, “Stop, stop I can’t breathe!”
I had the urge to yell “Stop!” I said before I could catch my words. And they did.
They all looked at me like I was a crazy person. One of the bigger guys who came out of the stall came towards me. I knew him as Kevin Carmicle. He was known to be trouble. He got real close to me with his group following after. He grabbed my shirt pulling me up so we were eye leveled. His breath smelled like stale cigarettes. A scar ran down his cheek ending at his jaw bone. His eyes burned into mine, I shook from fear. His eyes were like no other, they were a bright blue that almost didn’t look real. He threw me against the wall, then spat on me and left laughing. I stayed there for a minute slowly pushing myself up off the floor. It was silent in the washroom then I heard a small whimper coming from the stall. I got up quietly and peeped around the corner. There was a boy who looked to be my age with black hair that that dripped wet. He stared down crying. His quivering lip was bloody. He tried wiping it with his shirt but he was shaking too much.
I gasped and he looked up startled to see me, “What are you doing here? Go away!” he stood up quickly.
“Are you okay?” I moved away from the stall.
He scrambled to grab his bag, “I’m fine…” he pushed passed me and ran out of the washroom.

All day I kept my eyes open for this kid. I wanted to talk to the principal but I couldn’t figure out who this kid was or what his name might be. I didn’t even know what grade he was in.
When the bell rang I headed out the doors towards Jason’s car when from the corner of my eye I saw him. He was standing near a tree shoving a plastic bag in his backpack. My first instinct was to approach him. But as soon as he saw me he ran. Who was he?
“Coady?” I snapped out of my daze to turn around.
Jason was fidgeting with his car keys, “You ready to go home?”
“Yeah,” I walked by his side.

“Pass Phaneuf! Pass it to Bozak! Come on you had that!” Jason yelled at the T.V.
Toronto was playing Buffalo tonight. Gramma was at choir practice till nine, so it was just Jason and I. He sat down and began to tape his new Easton Stealth RS hockey stick that the new coach suggested for him. I had last year’s yearbook in my lap I was scanning for this kid. Then I found him, Shawn Camalon he was in my grade. Why didn’t I ever realize that? He had shorter hair in the photo. You could see his eyes. Judging from his photo he looked like one of those kids who would eat alone listening to their iPods, someone who I never really talked to.
“If you don’t start cheering soon, Toronto isn’t going to do any better…” Jason said wrapping the tape around the blade.
“What can you tell me about Shawn Camalon?” I looked up at him.
Jason froze, “Why do you ask? You hanging out with him?”
I answered, “No, but I saw Kevin Carmicle bullying him.”
Jason did something he has never done before. He muted the hockey game. “Look Coady…” he bit his lip, “Shawn is troubled…” The way he said it made Shawn sound like he was the problem.
“He was the one who got his head dunked in the toilet,” I argued.
Jason put his fingers through his brown hair, “Remember that car accident that killed three teenagers four years ago? The one that went off the highway in the ditch?”
I nodded.
“Well Shawn’s brother Jamie was the one driving. Everyone blamed Jamie for the incident accusing him that he had drugs or alcohol in his system.” he sighed. Then he began to tape the top of the stick, “With the incident under investigation they never proved that it was Jamie’s fault. But that didn’t stop the rumors. One of the victims so happened of been Kevin’s older brother Kyle who was also a star football player, who had it made.” He set the tape down and looked over his stick, “There father’s an alcoholic and the mother left not being able to handle her son’s death. Shawn is living his life in his brother’s shame.”
“I could help him.” I urged feeling sick inside.
Jason un-muted the T.V Toronto tied the score 2-2, “Dude don’t try to be the hero your just going get hurt and how can I let that happen with Gramma around. She’d kill me.”
I got up for once not caring what Jason says and not sticking around for the rest of the hockey game. I went to bed thinking about Shawn and how I could help him.
My whole life I’ve lived in my brother’s shadows, the hockey star’s brother. I never had to worry about any enemies or bullies because everyone loved and respected Jason. Now I am faced with something that is unfamiliar that I cannot wrap my head around. It’s called “Bullying.”

Shawn was nowhere to be seen. I even checked the washroom. I sat on a bench watching students in their groups. The jocks with the cheerleaders, the band players practicing their instruments, metals heads with their headphones on with their music so loud I could hear clearly, the techies on their computers discussing new software’s and the brains that were discussing student council ideas. Then I saw Jason talking to all his hockey pals. Tonight was the big game he was trying his best to look confident by talking about anything else but hockey. He was nervous and tried to hide it, but I knew him so well that he was feeling the pressure.
I looked over at the smoking section and saw someone in a dark jacket. It was Shawn he stood away from the smoking group. I walked across the lawn and approached him, this time he didn’t run. He stood his ground.
“Hey,” I said simply.
He blew out smoke, “Hi…”
“What’s up?” I put my hands in my back pockets.
He looked around to see if anyone was looking. He moved in closer his eyes had dark bags under them. Either from stress or lack of sleep. “What do you want?” he whispered.
He must have felt really uncomfortable because people looked over at us.
I said, “I know that Kevin bullies you… I want to help you…” I said taking my hands out of my jeans.
He threw his cigarette at me landing between my two feet, “So you think I’m some sort of charity case? I don’t need your help so leave me alone.” He shoved me and walked off putting his hood up.
I stood there for a moment, confused. Then turned to look where he was going, he walked passed Jason and into the school. Jason stopped talking to his friends and our eyes met, he gave me a look saying, “I told you so.”

The ball made a “ping” as it kept hitting the cross bar. I kept shooting over and over again, missing each time.
“So can I brag that I was right?” Jason picked up the ball as it rolled down the driveway. He was wearing his suit, it was the teams dress code.
I was sweating really badly through my Bobby Orr jersey from shooting. “I don’t get it? It’s like he hates me for trying.”
Jason tossed the ball up and caught it, “Coady you need to worry about you.”
I waved my stick up, “I don’t want to see him get beat up again, and to know I let that happened because I didn’t do anything about it.”
Jason huffed impatiently, “Dude your thinking too much.” He smiled, “Look let’s put this aside. The game starts in two hours you could warm me up.” That meant “get on the goalie gear, I’ll take shots on you.”

The arena was packed with people tonight. It was the fifth game into the season. We were playing our long-time rivals from next door. We had a winning streak against them. Tonight they were out to kill. There were a lot of penalty minutes on both teams from dirty hits and fights. Jason seemed oblivious to that, his one focus was the net tonight. He scored two goals in the first period leading the score to be 2-0. By third the score was 4-4. All goals were scored or assisted by Jason. This was looking good with the scouts. The last minute of the third Jason got a break-a-way but was tripped. The referee blew his whistle giving the call for a ‘penalty shot’.
Gramma grabbed my arm closing her eyes, “I can’t watch! I can’t watch!”
Jason skated in circles around the puck waiting for the referees whistle. From the minute he touched the puck I knew his plan. He was going to make it look like he was going to slap shot it, then switch to a wrist shot and shoot into the top shelf left side of the net. I knew because we’ve been practicing it. The goalie didn’t see it coming. The buzzer rang. The crowd went wild. We won. My Gramma screamed kissing my cheek.

After the game Jason was talking to a scout. They shook hands and laughed every two minutes. He was talking to Jason about his penalty shot, amazed by his accuracy and stick handling. My Gramma stood proudly beside Jason patting his back. I stood impatiently looking around. I looked at the entrance of the lobby and saw Kevin and his group. In the middle of them they were pushing Shawn along. This wasn’t good.
I turned to my Gramma, “Gram I think I’m going to walk home. I need some fresh air.” I said. We lived six houses down from the rink, so she didn’t need to worry.
She warned me using her index finger, “Straight home young man.”
When I got outside it was dark, the street lights flickering in the night. I went down the street opposite of where I lived. I reached where the downtown buildings began. That’s when I heard some familiar voices from down the alley. They got louder as I as I crept closer.
“I couldn’t get any more from my dad!” I heard Shawn. He sounded desperate.
“How am I supposed to sell this amount? There’s nothing to it!” Kevin’s voice was loud and mean.
Then I heard a fist collide with flesh. I peeked around the corner of the dumpster. Shawn was on the ground holding his face crying.
Kevin turned to his group, “Why don’t we not just finish him off he’s worthless like his brother….” He stopped when he saw me. I tried to back up and run but he pulled me back grabbing my hood. He dragged me as I kicked and scream. He threw me next to where Shawn was lying.
“Look what we got here… We have a loser and an idiot.” He laughed.
Shawn whispered, “What are you doing… are you crazy?” he groaned.
“Shut-up!” someone kicked Shawn in the gut.
I pulled myself up, “Leave him alone!” I shoved the guy hard. He pushed me back as I fell against the brick wall. I hit my head causing my vision to go blurry I spat at them repeating, “Leave Shawn alone!” That’s when I saw Kevin pull out the knife. I nearly threw up, would he actually?
“What are you doing?” I panicked.
He was walking towards Shawn who was trying to move away from him. I intercepted Kevin from Shawn. I realized that there’s a difference between stupidity and heroism. I soon found out what it was, when I felt a sharp pain shoot through my side. Kevin and his group ran before I could say anything else. My knees buckled and I fell back hitting the ground. My side shooting with pain, I lost my breath.
“Oh my god… Oh my god.” Shawn’s voice echoed beside me.
I whimpered, “Help me…” he crawled towards me, “You’re bleeding, oh my god. This is my fault.”
I felt the warmth of my own blood soaking through my sweater, “Shawn.” I cried, “Get Jason, my brother… he’s at the arena.” Shawn didn't hesitate he ran.
I shivered tasting a metallic taste in my mouth. I was alone and scared. I shook my head it was getting hard to keep my eyes open. The blood was beginning to puddle beside me. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live to see Jason play in the NHL, to see mom and dad come home. I wanted to finally make that perfect top shelf left side shot without hitting the crossbar. But most of all to help Shawn live a better life to live without fear of getting hurt and to know that I succeeded being a hero to someone.
I heard a thump-thump, I thought it was my heart beating but I felt someone hold me.
“Jason…” I whispered.
He cried trying to stop the blood that seeped through my sweater, “Coady its okay. I got you…”
I felt something wet on my face, was it raining? That’s when I got a sudden chill.
“Stay with me.” My brother cried burying his head into my chest.
“I tried… I tried to be a hero Jason…”
He cried, “You are Coady… please stay with me!” he held me tighter, “Hold on…” I could hear sirens in the distance.
His voice began to fade out. The last thing I remembered was the rumble of thunder above me, the alley felt darker then everything went black.