Page 73 of Monstrous Serpent

My brother glowers at him over the phone. “That wasn’t a swear.”

“It’s close enough.”

“That is not how swear jars work.”

I chuckle. “Careful. He’s making up rules now.”

Davis turns the screen toward me. “It’s the video where you deke out the goalie and shoot it between your feet. It has one hundred and fifty thousand views.”

“Bullshit.” I grab the phone.

And there I am.

I smile so hard my cheeks hurt. It was a great game. Got three goals and two assists. For once my stats were not just solid. Not just fine. They were great.

Davis bounces beside me. “That goal was sick. I showed Milo at lunch, and he said you only scored because the goalie sucked. I told him he couldn’t even make the middle school team, and then he called me short.”

“Short? You’re like the tallest kid in your grade.”

He shrugs.

Dad sits beside us, and my brother hands him the phone. “Hell of a shot, Cody.”

“Thanks.”

When the bay host comes over to check on our drinks, Davis practically climbs over the table. “Hey, have you seen this? My brother is the coolest hockey player.” He holds up the phone. “That's him. Number thirty-four.”

She leans in, smiling politely at first, then her eyebrows lift. “Wait, that was you? I saw this on TikTok.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”

“That goal was amazing.”

My face heats up, and I look at the table. “Thanks.”

Dad orders more drinks and a flatbread because Davis claims he’s “starving to death” despite having eaten enough fries to support a small village. The bay host leaves, and Davis hops up for his turn again.

I sit back and watch him slice two balls, then point at the screen when he faces me. “Still in the lead.”

“Bite me.”

I look at Dad.

He just shakes his head. His phone rings, a smile forming when he answers it. “Hey, honey.”

Mom.

His brows furrow. “Calm down. Say that again.”

I sit straighter. “Dad?”

He holds up a hand. “You looked everywhere? The door wasn't open?”

Davis walks over, club hanging loose in one hand. “Is Mom okay?”

I shrug. “Don’t know.”

Dad turns away from us, pressing a finger to his other ear. “Okay. Ask the neighbors. Maybe someone has a Ring doorbell that caught something.”