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“I think Hasselbeck is here.” The team shrink. Whatever Rock saw on my face told him this one was out of his league.
I shook my head. “I’ll give her a call later.”
He shrugged and soon we were heading out to face the goddamn Quill Boars, and my mind shifted to its most reliable state. Hockey. Winning. Doing what I did best.
Stepping out on the ice was like coming home—the smell of the rink, the roar of the crowd. The Wilcox fans were screaming, and there were way more of them than of the Quill Boar fans. I scanned the seats, looking for Clara, but didn’t find her. And as Rock stepped up for the face off, I pulled my attention totally to the ice.
As we got close to the end of the first period, two goals behind, I’d spotted Mom and Dad sitting with Beck and Zara up in the stands, but Clara wasn’t with them.
Where was she?
“Get your head in the game,” Deck growled as he shot past me after a whistle, seeing me scanning for her.
“That’s a nice helmet, does it come in men’s too?” One of the Boars players, Clint Hayes, asked, slamming me as I shot for Simpson.
“Was that a hit?” I asked him. “It’s not Little League, Clint.” Man, I hated that guy.
When the period ended, I was actually happy to leave the ice. Deck wasn’t wrong. My head was all over the place. The Boars were up by two, and their most irritating player, Hayes, had been talking trash non-stop, chirping incessantly. Asking for it.
“I’m sending you back out, but you better show me some fucking focus,” Coach Merit told me as the crowd took their feet for the second period.
“Got it,” I promised him. As I headed out, I told myself I wasn’t going to look for Clara anymore. Maybe she hadn’t come, only she’d assured me she would. What if something had happened to her? Or to Katie? No. I didn’t have time to worry. I had to shove her from my mind. My life had been just fine before I’d gotten involved with the girl next door. It had been easy. Safe. No one was too involved in my business, no one made me question my place in the world.
Which was here, on the ice.
“Watch it!” Hayes elbowed me as he flew by, and I spun, fury clouding my vision.
“I am watching it,” I told him, getting in his face. “And I guess they were right when they told me you were the worst player on your last team too.”
I spun around him, closing in on the net as Gillespie drove toward me. I was open enough, and the shot was forming in my mind. That was my gift. I could see the way things would unfold on the ice, I could anticipate the movement, be exactly where I needed to be.
Only fucking Hayes was in the way.
The puck came my way and I turned, sending it hard at the net. The goalie dove, but I saw the opportunity. And then saw it hit the pole and rebound. Guys scrambled for the puck, but the action was out of my control now.
Fuck.
“Just like your mom,” Hayes chirped in my ear. “Smoking pole like a champ.”
That did it. My vision blurred, and my gloves were off before I even planned to jump the guy. Seconds later, the rink was a melee, fans screaming and my teammates shouting. I ripped off my helmet, not even considering the consequences. When Hayes was on the ground, The ref pulled me off, his voice deadly calm in my ear.
“Misconduct. You’re out of here.”
My vision tunneled, and I headed for the dressing room, ignoring the continued shouts of my teammates as Hayes’s team called for retribution.
Once I was undressed, I sat, staring at the floor between my feet.
What the hell had I done? It was a fucking exhibition game, for god’s sake. I tried not to think about my mom. I could picture her face. She’d never gotten used to the idea of fighting being part of the game, and I actually tried to abstain, as much as that was practical.
I could hear the roar of the crowd, and felt myself swirling down into an eddy of darkness. I was fucking everything up.
I showered, trying to drown it all out, forget everything. If my family wasn’t here, I’d have considered just leaving, dealing with Merit and the team later. But I’d have to face my family. So I stepped out of the water and dried off, picking up my phone.
Clara had texted. My heart leapt into my throat, worry for her and Katie overshadowing my self-pity for a moment as I read the texts.
Clara: Hey, we were a little late, sorry. See you after! Good luck!
And then, from just a few minutes ago.
