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Everyone is in their heads when I get to the locker room before warm-ups. Mine is on Kyleigh, wanting to win this game and get back to her.
Tweetie sits down next to me as I get myself ready. “Hey, I think, um…Conor isn’t in a good headspace. He saw Kyleigh come through the gate this morning. Knew she was going to your place.”
“She’s my girlfriend.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I know. That’s the point. His head is really twisted, man. I’m sure it doesn’t help with all the shit going on with his family. I know he went out with his mom the other day. Came back and acted like a fucking bear.” He shakes his head. “This season is really important to all of us, and I worry he’s gonna fuck this up for himself and us. He’s so angry, man.”
“What do you want me to do? With the things he’s said, the way he’s been acting, I’m done. I can’t have Kyleigh be part of that poison.”
Tweetie looks at me and shakes his head. “I love this whole fall-on-the-sword thing you got going on with her. And I appreciate the mile-high pedestal you’ve put her on. But this is the Cup we’re talking about.”
I stand up from the bench and stare down at him. “I want to win the Cup. I do. Don’t think I’m not invested in this team’s success, but Kyleigh trumps it all. It’s up to him to make it right at this point.”
His eyes dig into mine, and I’m surprised to find a hint of understanding in his gaze. I figured he’d be chest to chest with me, arguing that I’m wrong.
“I guess we’re screwed then. You and Conor are going to take us all down with you.”
I don’t say anything and walk out the door.
“Daddy, we gotta come up with a plan,” I hear him say right before the doors shut behind me.
The fans are sprinkling in. The arena will be packed tonight. I skate around the ice a few times, making sure I feel good, then I fall to my knees and do my warm-ups. Conor is a little farther down the ice from me. Tweetie and Henry arrive later than everyone else.
“About time.” Coach Buford gives them a stern warning glare.
Henry skates over to me, and Tweetie heads over to Conor.
“I’m supposed to smooth this over, but…” Henry falls to his knees and does his hip flex stretch.
I roll over to my back. “It’s his problem. I don’t know why I’m getting the lecture.”
“Tweetie doesn’t like dissension in the team. He thinks if there are problems in the locker room, it trickles out into the game.”
I agree with Tweetie, but Conor is being a selfish prick. And if he thinks I’m such a bad person, then what does that say about his trust in me? That there isn’t any.
“You should double-team Conor then.” I get up with my stick and skate away.
“Come on,” Henry whines, following. “Bodhi acts more grown up than you two idiots.”
I pick up a puck with my stick and start the team on some warm-up drills.
Conor skates toward the net, ready for us to take practice shots at the goal.
I practice my stick work, not trying to score a goal, but skate behind the net. I catch sight of Kyleigh coming down the stairs and a laugh bubbles out of me. Not only is she wearing my jersey, but she’s got my number in glitter on her cheeks. Plus, she’s decked out in the team colors, navy blue and light blue.
Instead of continuing my drill, I skate over to her, cursing the plexiglass that’s blocking my lips from hers. I blow her a kiss, and she puts her hand on the glass. In her palm is a small handwritten note cut into the shape of a heart.
You got this. You’re the best in the league.
I want to hug her because she somehow knows exactly what I need to hear right now.
She waves me off and puckers her lips at me.
Feeling regenerated, wanting to show her the man she chose and make her proud, I take the puck to the center line, skating in toward the goal when it’s my turn. Conor’s in the net, and when he spots me coming close and I’m about to knock the puck in, he skates out a bit, puffs out his chest, and I fall to the ground.
Throwing my stick to the side, I get up and grab his jersey.
“Whoa. Whoa!” Tweetie slides to a stop, pushing us both back by the chest, but it’s too late.
