Chapter 21 Dawson
It’s a miracle I don’t have an accident as I drive home. I’m in a daze, barely seeing anything in front of me.
“How was Skate Night?” Mom calls from the kitchen. I hover at the foot of the stairs, hoping I can escape to my room, but no dice. She’s already emerging carrying a bowl of popcorn. Movie night.
God, maybe I should’ve stayed home instead of skating out on thin ice. Would’ve saved me a lot of grief.
“Fine.” Our living room suddenly feels cramped and claustrophobic, its overstuffed furniture crowding me from all sides instead of seeming comfortingly worn, like usual.
Dad looks up from his recliner. “You ready for next week’s game? I hope you didn’t do anything reckless out there tonight. You know you can’t afford to.”
I try not to stare at his knee. “I didn’t do anything reckless, Dad.” Barely, just barely, I manage not to add: Not like you. I’m not you.
Even though, if I hadn’t messed everything up, I definitely would’ve broken a few of his rules for Harper. And from the wreckage of my emotions right now, I’m beginning to understand exactly why those rules were so important.
He squints at me. “The game’s against Northview?”
I just nod. He knows it’s against Northview.
He looks back at the TV, clicking through movie options.
His voice is casual, like he could have this conversation in his sleep.
“Jack Petrov still their first line center? You know that guy’s got footwork for days.
And their coach is nothing to laugh at. They’re the only team that has consistently outscored Hamilton Lakes. The last time you faced them—”
“I know, Dad.” I can’t help the snap in my tone. He doesn’t need to remind me how much is on the line and how underprepared I feel. How this year that seemed so full of possibility and promise is quickly turning into the greatest disaster of my career.
A short, brutal career, the way things are looking. Over before it even starts.
He shrugs, calm and patient as always. Then again, he doesn’t need to yell for me to be disappointed in myself. “I’m just saying, you don’t want to waste this shot. A scout’s coming? We want him to see what we all know—that you’re the best in the game.”
The best in the game. Talent’s nothing without good luck and hard work. You’re going to be better than I ever was.
The refrains I’ve been hearing my whole life ring in my ears. But today, they’re mixed with new hauntings.
I don’t need someone who’s so aware of his social status and how outmatched we are that he thinks dating me is a favor.
Maybe I don’t want to be the best in the game. Maybe it’s not worth it. Not if this is where I end up.
“I got it,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’m gonna go rest so I don’t do something reckless.”
I ignore Mom’s worried look and Dad’s frown, half jogging up the steps to my bedroom. I can’t close the door behind me quickly enough.
We have early practice tomorrow. I should get some rest.
But as soon as I lie down, I start tossing and turning, my thoughts spiraling out of control.
My posters stare down at me from the walls: my favorite Wolverines, including a vintage one from when Dad was on the team.
The trophies I’ve collected over the last few years gleam in the dim glow of the streetlights shining through my curtains.
From youth hockey all the way to last year’s regionals.
Normally they’d be reminders of everything I’ve accomplished. Everything I’m worth.
Today, they make me question everything.
Am I really such a terrible person that Harper doesn’t even want to be associated with me? I know she used to think my head was too big to hang out with anyone who wasn’t a jock, but I thought we were past that.
The things she said in the car… it felt like she’d been saving them up for a while.
I thought you were different from the rest of the team.
I hate being wrong.
Eventually, I give up and grab my phone, opening up the group chat with Alex and Ryan.
I fucked things up with Harper
Alex responds first: what’d you do??
Ryan: yeah, you two seemed to be getting along great at Skate Night?
Her friend Marissa found out and she freaked, I write.
Ryan: lisa frank???
Alex: ryan
Alex: focus
Ryan: I mean yeah that sounds bad man
Alex: wait, but what did YOU do?
I wince. I may have said something about how she shouldn’t be keeping me a secret. How the only impression people would have of us is that I was, um, doing her a favor
Alex: tell me you did not use those words
Me: Can we not kick a guy when he’s down??
Ryan: what if he knocked himself down and kinda deserves to be humbled
Alex: real
Alex: but ok ok we’re being supportive
Alex: what’re you going to do??
Me: What do you mean what am I going to do? She ripped me a new one and told me to leave her alone!
Ryan: yeah, but she also ghosted you after my party
Ryan: and let you suffer after the small business fair
Ryan: …
Ryan: actually, never mind, maybe this isn’t meant to be
Alex: bro
Ryan: what??
Alex: you hurt her feelings. I kind of doubt she’ll be the first one to make amends on this one.
I stare at my phone for so long the screen goes dim, then turns off, and I’m left blinking away the afterimage burned onto my retinas.
Part of me knows he’s right. That Harper craves the belonging of our team more than she’ll ever admit, and what I said hit her in a hidden place that she’d been really brave to show me.
The texts from Ryan and Alex remind me—at least when I’m struggling, I have two of the best guys I know to talk me through it and prop me up.
Not everyone can say that, and I don’t take it for granted.
I feel like a total dick for weaponizing her vulnerabilities against her, even out of my own hurt.
But I’m not sure how to make it right. And if she’s that ashamed to tell her best friend about me when I had her back against the whole school, maybe it’s not worth trying.
I had that rule about dating for a reason.
Dad and Red were right after all—girls only get in your head.
Me: Whatever. I don’t have time, anyway. I need to focus on the Northview game Friday. It was dumb to get distracted in the first place.
Ryan: love’s never dumb, dawson
Alex: okay, nora ephron
Ryan: who’s nora??
Alex: educate yourself man
Alex: I’m going to bed. See you on the ice
I thumbs-up his message and put my phone down again. But even when I close my eyes, sleep never comes.
At early morning Saturday practice, my eyes are scratchy and my limbs are weighed down by invisible anvils. I couldn’t even eat breakfast, I felt so queasy and weird, so I’m totally depleted on the ice. All I can think about is Harper. What’s she doing today? Does she hate me?
Was there some truth in what she said? Have I been acting like a dick all this time?
A three-week situation shouldn’t mess me up so much.
But if I’m honest with myself, I’ve been noticing Harper a lot longer than that, like Lindsey hinted.
And we got a lot closer than three weeks should account for.
I can’t stop wondering how her jewelry business is doing, if she applied for that grant she’s been talking about, if she’s going to come to our game Friday.
It’s no wonder I bomb practice.
I botch every pass I send, don’t make a single shot, and accidentally ice the puck during scrimmage.
I can’t blame anyone but myself—I haven’t been prepping the way I should for the Northview game.
I’ve been slacking on my own drills, have barely watched half of the videos of Petrov that I saved to study. On top of that, now I’m in my head.
“Get it together, Dawson!” Noah shouts as he chases after one of my passes. “What’s your problem today?”
Alex and Ryan try to cover for me, but it’s no use. They can’t hide how distracted I am, what a menace I am on the ice. I’m worse than useless. If I play like this Friday…
When Dan finally blows the whistle to end practice, I can’t get off the ice fast enough.
I’m not used to letting down my team. I’m wrung out, but all I can think to do is go for a run or lift some heavy weights.
Anything to sweat out the self-doubt and blame and shame.
I grab my water bottle, squirting it into my face for whatever brief refreshment it can give me.
But Alex drops onto the bench next to me before I can escape to wallow. I brace myself for what’s bound to be the kindest wake-up call ever. I’ve never seen Alex yell at anyone in his life.
Alex heaves a heavy sigh. “Maybe Coach should take me off your line.”
I’m halfway through my apology before I realize what he’s said. I whip my head sideways to try to look him in the eyes. “What?”
“I’m holding you and Noah back.” He won’t meet my gaze. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what he said in that first practice. That he needs his best guys at his side. Let’s face it, Dawson, I’m not that.”
“Alex, stop.” I shake my head. “I’m the one who’s been playing badly today. That has nothing to do with you.”
“I don’t know.” Alex frowns. “We either play well together or we don’t.
I appreciate the chance and everything, but it’s not working out.
This game has a lot on the line. For you, for everyone.
We should put our best guys forward. I’m happy to be a supporting player, you know?
If I make a good pass or two, I’ll be happy. ”
A part of me can’t help wondering if he’s right. I know I’m in my head today, but maybe our strategy is part of it. We’re all learning how to play in a whole new way this year, and maybe it’s just not working.
But Alex is my guy. I don’t want him thinking about himself that way.
“We’re going to book some extra ice time to get in some more practice, okay?
Like I promised. This is your year.” Alex opens his mouth to protest, but I shake my head.
“I clearly need the extra drills too. Don’t think I’m doing you a favor. ”
Before Alex can respond, Coach Dan is at our side. “Gentlemen.” He nods. “Dawson, can I have a word before you go?”
Alex grimaces sympathetically, nodding before heading toward the locker room. I stare after him. Did anything I said sink in? It’s hard to know with Alex. That guy keeps his own worries and insecurities deep on the inside until it’s too late.
Dan clears his throat, and I turn back to face him. I’ll talk to Alex more later. “Coach?”
This moment gives me a twisted flashback to last week, when he told me I was skating well and all I had to do was keep it up to get that scout’s attention.
From the furrowed brows behind his thick glasses, I have a feeling today’s conversation won’t have the same flavor.
“What’s going on with you, Dawson?” he asks.
I blink. I was not expecting a question. “Nothing, Coach.”
Dan’s frown lines deepen. “You’re not skating like nothing’s going on. What happened between last week and today?”
I shuffle my weight from one skate to the other. All I want to do is take off down the ice, but my coach is asking me a direct question.
Mortified, I mumble, “Girl problems.”
I brace myself. Coach Red would’ve torn me a new one. Laughed me off the ice, then shouted something about how this sport isn’t for softies and if I skate well enough, there’ll be plenty more girls where that one came from.
It’s kind of creepy, how clearly I know what he’d say.
Coach Dan just nods. “We’ve all been there.
But it’s getting in your head, Dawson. And it’s interfering with your game.
If you keep playing this poorly, I’m going to take you off the first line.
Not as punishment, but for the sake of the rest of the team.
They’ve been working hard, and this game matters to them, too. ”
I stare at my feet. “I understand, sir.”
“Do whatever you have to do to fix it,” Coach Dan says. “If you need to talk…”
I nod rapidly, starting to edge toward the locker rooms. “Yes, Coach. Thank you.” It’s nice of him to offer, but the last thing I want to do is spill my feelings about Harper to my coach. “I’ll fix it. I’m going to stay to practice for a bit. Figure out my game.”
He nods and follows the guys into the locker room. As soon as he’s gone, my smile drops.
Dan and Alex are approaching the same problem from two different angles. Our line isn’t working, and something has to change. Fuck Alex for being the best guy I know—of course he took it on himself. But Dan sees how much I’ve slipped.
Too bad I have no idea how to fix my game.
Do I have to apologize to Harper?
Forget about her?
Figure out what it is about me that’s so repellent?
Whatever the answer is, I don’t think I can do it before Friday.
Left alone on the ice, counting down the days to a game that makes me nauseous, my dreams have never seemed so far away.