Chapter 16 Dawson
Thank God the next few days are busy as hell. Between morning practice and the countdown to finals before winter break, every hour is accounted for.
Somehow, it doesn’t help me keep my mind off the girl who has taken up permanent residence there.
As I weave through the crowded hallways of Hamilton Lakes High, I can’t stop craning my neck for a glance at Harper. But whenever I glimpse her hair cascading over her shoulders, or that jaunty, purposeful walk of hers, she’s gone before I can speak to her. Almost as if she’s avoiding me.
I could’ve sworn she was about to say yes to Skate Night before her friend showed up and got all defensive, and then Harper shut down. What was that about? Is she not into me as much as I’m into her?
“Dawson!” Alex grabs me by the elbow and pulls me out of the way of an opening door. “Listen, our season’s already in jeopardy without putting you in the hospital.”
I grimace. “Sorry. Distracted.”
Ryan nudges me in the ribs from the other side, waggling his eyebrows. “Distracted by anything fun?”
I rake a hand through my hair as we turn a corner, thinking it over. Alex and Ryan were cool when I brought Harper to the party. They even bought her merch at the small business fair. They’re goldfish—bad at holding on to grudges even if they tried. If I like Harper, they like Harper.
I’ve never been so grateful for it. Because I really need to talk this through with someone. “You know Harper?”
Alex raises his eyes heavenward. “Yes, Dawson. We know Harper.”
“Hell yeah we do!” Ryan cheers. “Though I gotta say, the Harper you brought to my party is a different one than we’ve known for the last three years. I still need to find her for a foosball rematch.”
“Yeah,” I say, barely hearing them. “So at the small business fair? I was kind of… having a moment with her? Before you guys showed up.”
Ryan claps a hand over his mouth. “Oh, shit! Sorry, man!”
Alex mutters something that sounds like, “Lord save me from oblivious hockey players.”
I decide to ignore it. “I mean, it wasn’t you who ruined the moment. It got weird when her friend showed up, to be honest.”
Ryan nods knowingly. “Marissa. She reminds me of a librarian. But, like, a glittery one. Lisa Frank core.”
I shoot him a weird look. Distracted by shiny objects again.
“Yeah. Anyway. She was defensive about Harper’s business—which, c’mon, I’m doing my best to fix, I’m not the enemy here—and then Harper got all weird.
Like she didn’t want to talk around her?
” Even as I say it, though, my stomach twists with guilt.
I am a little to blame for Harper’s business troubles this year.
I didn’t call off Noah’s witch hunt soon enough, and I accidentally gave him some ammunition for it.
Alex frowns. “Harper might have discovered forgiveness and joined Team Dawson, but Marissa might still be captain of the opposing team, you know?”
“You don’t need that energy, man.” Ryan waves a hand at the hallway, collecting all the smiles and hellos and lingering glances as we pass.
“There are literally a hundred girls who’d amputate their left leg to go out with you.
We want you to hang out with whoever you want, right?
But if she’s making you suffer, at some point you have to cut your losses and move on. ”
Alex’s frown deepens. He’s starting to resemble a basset hound with all those sagging, sad wrinkles. “Not if he loves her.”
I blanch. “Who said anything about love?”
They’re not listening to me. “Dawson deserves to be appreciated for exactly who he is!” Ryan insists.
“I know that,” Alex says. “But does he?”
I feel like I’m watching a tennis match, except I understand tennis better than whatever’s going on here. But before I can tell them it’s not that deep, we’re mobbed by the rest of the team, and the conversation turns to the Northview game coming up, and I can’t get a word in edgewise.
So my mind drifts off. If I knew what was good for me, I’d listen to Ryan and move on. I know when a girl’s interested, and let’s be honest, I’ve never had trouble landing a date before. Why would I torture myself with someone who’s giving me mixed messages?
I’m not used to my ego being threatened, but this girl’s making it feel a lot more fragile than ever before.
The problem is, I can’t stop thinking about the flush in her cheeks, the little sound she made when she took a sip of that hot chocolate, the pride in her voice as she showed me everything she was selling, that ridiculously long scarf she was wearing at the craft fair.
I wanted to grab her by it and reel her in, bring those soft-looking lips and big green eyes inches from mine.
I don’t want to hang out with just anyone. I want to hang out with Harper.
The guys drop me off at precalc with plenty of back thumping and pep talking, but Harper’s not even there early like she usually is, so I don’t get the chance to talk to her. She slides in right before the bell, hurrying to her seat with her head down.
I zone out for the entire period. Couldn’t even tell you what the lesson’s on. I only snap back to attention when Ms. Moore passes our tests back.
B+. Best I’ve ever gotten.
Before I can think better of it, I wheel to grin at Harper.
She’s the first one I want to tell, the one I want to celebrate with.
But her head is still down, focused very intently on her notes.
I wait until class is dismissed before I stand, holding the test above my head like it’s the Stanley Cup or something.
Harper shoots out the door with her friend Liv before I can show her—before I can thank her—so I slowly lower my arms, feeling like a real idiot.
Yeah, she’s definitely avoiding me. My cheeks flame with embarrassment. Did I do something to piss her off?
Good thing I have practice. I have a helluva lot of frustrated energy to burn.
The locker room is full of guys comparing Thanksgiving weekend stories.
Lots of groaning about how much they ate and how slow they’re gonna be on the ice today.
I suit up, rehearsing my speech to Noah in my mind.
Even if Harper’s avoiding me, I made her a promise and I’m not going back on my word.
And I’m only more impressed by how hard she works after seeing her in action at the small business fair.
If there’s anything I can do to make things right, I need to do it.
I take a deep breath before pulling Noah aside as we skate out onto the ice. Clear and direct, Dawson. That’s the only way to handle this guy.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say. “Those reviews on Harper’s site are really messing up her business.”
He smirks. “You still hung up on that girl? I thought surely that would pass in the light of day. What, are you hanging out with her as some sort of favor?”
My face burns with anger, and I have to take another deep breath so I don’t say something rash.
Has Noah always been this bad? If so, no wonder Harper has a chip on her shoulder about the team, because I’m having to remind myself that throwing punches could easily get me suspended for the season.
Honestly, it’s a credit to her self-restraint that she hasn’t inflicted physical violence on him yet.
“It’s not about being hung up on her.” Even though I definitely, absolutely am. “And I’m not doing any favors. This is about what’s fair. Those reviews were you, right? You need to take them down.”
We lock eyes, and Noah’s eyebrows tick up. “Are you serious?”
I notice he doesn’t deny the accusation. “Harper didn’t do anything wrong, and that business is her life. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Noah shakes his head, scoffing. “If she’s not responsible for getting Coach fired, then who is?”
“I don’t know,” I say, jaw tightening. “But maybe at this point, it’s not our job to find out.
Maybe Principal Castillo put the pieces together all on her own.
” Noah opens his mouth to argue, but I’m not done.
“What I do know is if you keep up this vendetta, it’s going to destroy this team so much worse than losing one coach did.
I can’t skate with a guy I can’t trust.”
Noah glances down at my hands, and I realize they’re clenched into fists.
At some point, I became willing to deck a guy for Harper Braedon.
Willing to argue with my captain. A brief wave of nerves washes over me—this is why I don’t date during the season.
If my messy feelings for Harper mess up our team and my game, Dad would never let me live it down.
But then Noah glances over my shoulder. Ryan and Alex have skated up behind us. “Yeah, I don’t think she did it either,” Ryan says with a shrug. A warm ember burns in my chest at seeing him join Harper’s side too. “That girl has no poker face.”
“And she sure hasn’t had a problem speaking her mind in the past,” Alex adds. “If she did it, I think she’d own up to it. Probably be proud of it. Don’t you?”
Noah meets my eyes again, jaw slightly hung. I raise a challenging eyebrow. He wavers for a minute before tossing up his hands.
“Okay, okay. Fine!” He shakes his head. “I still don’t trust her. But if she’s your girl… Whatever. It’s not worth it.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.” Noah might be in his own world this year with his eyes set on the Gamblers, but if there’s one upside to his selfishness, it’s that he cares way more about himself than any principles.
At this point, he doesn’t have anything to gain by maintaining this feud.
But I still can’t be totally relieved. Not with his words ringing in my ears as we head to center ice.
If she’s your girl…
I frown as we run through our drills. I wish winning Harper over came as naturally.
Practice is pretty smooth, for a change.
Noah hogs the puck a little more than usual, but I’m playing better than ever.
I’m full of a weird combination of emotions—frustration at Harper’s nonanswer, pride at fixing something for her.
It fuels me through practice, and I manage a sick hook-around move I’ve been practicing for weeks.
I’m still working on my breakaways, but Dad assures me they come with practice as you hone your instincts.
And maybe Dan’s coaching has something to it.
The guys who don’t normally get as much playing time are visibly improving.
Alex is faster and sharper than ever, even getting a goal past Sam during our scrimmage.
Patrick’s passes are getting more precise, and a little extra competition from the new guys means Brady’s giving his last season everything he’s got.
Dan’s even spending more time with the JV team than Red ever did, and I bet some of those new recruits are gonna be ready to move up to varsity before we know it.
It’s definitely an adjustment to skate with new lines, but today, for the first time, I wonder if we might manage the learning curve.
When Dan blows the whistle to end practice, I’m flushed and grinning.
I needed a good session. Harper might not want to give me the time of day, but I’m still a hockey player, and a damn good one.
She’d have to be impressed if she saw me today. I imagine her whispering “I was wrong. You deserve all the praise you get” in that midnight-soft voice from the party. Even the fantasy makes me glow with pride.
I can never tell Alex and Ryan. They’d never let me live it down.
“Dawson!” Dan beckons me toward the bench as the rest of the guys funnel toward the locker room to shower and change. “Nice skating today.”
I just duck my head modestly, tucking the compliment away for safekeeping.
“We face Northview in two weeks. A scout for the Chicago Steel is coming to the game.”
My head snaps up. Northview’s name makes flashes of conversation with Dad loop, staticky, through my mind. We’ve all been waiting for this rematch for months. And now a scout’s coming?
“You did great today,” Dan continues. “I know you were discouraged after Washington, but you’re coming back strong.” He nods. “Keep it up and I’ll make sure you get enough ice time to make an impression.”
I push my nerves away, deep into the pocket I created for them when I started playing. I was born for this. I worked hard today and skated well. I’m not going to let my team down—not going to let my talent go to waste. If I bring my A game to Northview, I know we can win.
Another chance. I have another chance. “Thanks, Coach.”
Dan’s eyes widen a little behind his glasses, and that’s when I realize I didn’t call him Dan, or even Coach Dan.
Just Coach.
I skate off to the locker room with a new lightness. Things are turning around.
And if I can sort out my problems on the ice, I know exactly what problem I want to tackle next.