15. Luke
CHAPTER 15
LUKE
“ I like her. She’s really nice.” Kinsley bites into her slice of pepperoni pizza with gusto. After talking to Sophie, I let Gabe know I was taking Kinsley back to our house in Clearwater for the weekend and would commute for practice and our game on Sunday. Maybe being back home will help her gain some perspective.
If I’d given up on hockey the first time I hit the proverbial boards, I wouldn’t have lasted a week. Somehow, I need to convince Kinsley to stick with it and give this journalism thing a chance. I read her paper after we left Sophie’s office, and she was right. My sister is a great writer, and I firmly believe she could impact the field for the better.
“Yeah, she is.” I keep my eyes diverted to my own slice, hoping she’ll move on to something else, like this new pizza joint that just opened nearby. We could have a long discussion about all the sports pictures on the walls. I’m pretty sure there’s an autographed picture of Wayne Gretzky on the back wall—right next to a picture of Jason Sedakis as Ted Lasso, one of our favorite TV shows. The pizza’s good too. Not quite as memorable as the joint in Jacksonville, but close .
Sophie loved the pizza there. Maybe she’d like this place too. Bet she’d love my mother’s pink roses also…
That thought stops me in my thinking tracks. Time to switch rails, or whatever you call it, because that’s a dangerous path to tread. After I checked out the first run of articles Sophie did on the team—especially the spread about Gabe—my determination not to trust her diminished.
She did a great job painting the team in a positive light and focusing on who we are and where we’re headed—an underdog king of spin, overcoming the odds without dredging up the drama that went down last season.
I liked that a lot.
Kins studies me as she chews. “You like her.”
I cough as I swallow. Did she crawl into my head and sift through my thoughts? Time for a diversion. “How did you get here, by the way?”
“Avoidance tactic. I’ll allow it.”
I chuckle. Spoken like a ref.
She wipes her hands. “Brandon was driving down for the long weekend, so I hitched a ride.”
I’m not smiling anymore. This better be someone she knows and not some random stranger she rode a thousand-plus miles with. “Who’s Brandon?”
“Just a friend from school. Relax. Besides, I’m not his type.”
“Good to know.” I may be happy about that, but I’m unconvinced she is. Could she have a crush on this Brandon dude? I may have to pay her a visit in New York in the very near future.
We eat in silence for a couple more minutes, but I’m certain there’s more brewing in my sister’s head.
She takes a sip of her soda, then sits back in her chair with half of her pizza sitting there, getting cold.
“Done already?”
She shrugs. “Just not super hungry.”
I sigh. “Kins, Sophie’s right, you know. We have a saying in hockey. ‘Winners train. Losers complain.’ And I know, for a fact, that my sister isn’t a loser.”
The smile I love seeing returns. “Not bad, Lukinator. You got game.”
I almost blow soda out of my nose when I laugh, then shake my head. “There is no way in H E double hockey sticks that you’re not good with words, Kins. You could write satire if you wanted to.”
Her face lights up. “That’s what I plan to do in my next life after I take over the world. Something to do in my downtime.”
I grin, loving the ease between us. Reminds me of how things used to be. “We don’t stand a chance.”
After we finish eating, we head back to the house. Mom’s roses are fading, and so are the orchids with the onset of fall. But the subtle shift of coolness in the air fills me with a contentment I haven’t felt in a long time.
Kinsley stops by one of the bushes and inhales the scent of a lingering pink rose. “I missed these.”
The pink pillow in Sophie’s office comes to mind. As does her smile and the way she helped my sister. “I know. I miss her, too.” Oddly, it’s not my mother’s face I picture as I say that. “Remember when Mom found that nursery an hour away that had a half-price sale on rose bushes that turned out to be in some guy’s backyard?”
Kins appears genuinely surprised.
“What?”
Her expression warms. “I think that’s the first time you’ve talked about her.”
My turn for an epic eye roll. “I talk about her all the time.”
She snorts. “No, you don’t. You listen to me talk about her and grunt in agreement.”
She’s right. It’s been too hard until now. I’m not sure what shifted, but now I want to talk about her. And remember.
I divert my gaze down the row of rose bushes displaying their last bursts of color, waiting for dormancy to prepare for a new season. Maybe that’s where Kins and I are finally at—leaving the weariness of grief to step into a new season of life and living.
I unclench my jaw. “Guess I just needed time.”
“Yeah…”
We climb the steps to the front door. Might as well say what I’ve been holding back and get it over with. “You’re not quitting school.”
She lets out a long sigh. “I know. Brandon’s picking me up Sunday after your game.”
“You had that planned all along, didn’t you?”
The soft shadows on the porch dance across Kinsley’s features as she turns around, and I’m struck by how much she resembles our mother.
Then she dons a satisfied smirk and shrugs. “Just in case.”
I grin. “Brat.”
I asked Sophie if my sister could sit with her during the game. That way, I know she’s not getting into trouble or running into Jayce. I still haven’t figured out how to reach that kid to help him understand the dynamics and importance of working as a team.
Most guys get this pretty quick. Usually, a few slams against the boards help reinforce Coach’s instructions do the trick. But so far, nothing’s getting through.
We head down the tunnel to the ice for the first line to be introduced by the announcer. Judging by the cheers and shouts, the place is over half full. I guess we have Sophie’s profiles to thank for that. Mine is due to print next week, and I’m not dreading it as much as I was after seeing what she’s done so far.
After the singing of the national anthem, we get into position for the puck drop. Things move fast after that—too fast for me to scope out where Kins and Sophie are sitting. When I take a turn on the bench, I search for them, but still can’t locate them.
At the end of the first period, we’re tied. Coach gathers us for some strategizing during intermission. First line starts again, and I score a goal within the first two minutes with an assist from Ethan. I feel like I could stay on the ice longer but rotate so I don’t wear myself out. My blood is pumping hard, and I’m revved up to get back out there.
I don’t know if my sister being here with Sophie is fueling me, but this is the best I’ve felt on the ice so far. More like things used to be before…
Nearing the end of the second period, I break away and fly toward our opponent’s net. I’ve got their goalie in my sites as I estimate when to make a slapshot. I know the other team’s defensemen are coming for me, but I also know Mathéo and Payton have my back.
I take the shot and score another goal as one of the other team’s players and Mathéo go down in a tangle of legs and sticks. The ref blows his whistle, signaling the end of play.
But Mathéo isn’t getting up. I immediately skate over to see what’s going on. His grimace is my first indicator that he’s hurt, so I track his arms to where he’s holding his left ankle. Once we help him up, it’s obvious he can’t finish the period and needs medical attention.
The doc and his team lead him off the ice, leaving the rest of us to hope it’s just a sprain. If we have a chance at the Kelly Cup, we’ll need Barbie Man to help get us there. He’s one of our best. But more importantly, we’d rather not see him struggle with a career-changing—or ending—injury.
We finish the period holding the score in our favor. I pat each player on the back as they leave the ice, giving them reassurance that Mathéo will be all right and so will we. Do I know this for sure? No, but I want to believe it with everything in me.
Just as I’m about to follow the last one in, a waving motion catches my attention. Kinsley and Sophie are standing by the plexiglass. I lift my hand to wave but then notice they’re both wearing Sun King jerseys.
I skate over and smile at them. Kins nudges Sophie, then turns around. At first, Sophie hesitates, her cheeks a deep shade of pink. Kins points her thumbs over her shoulders while Sophie pulls her ponytail over her shoulder.
My name blazes across both shirts.
Sophie does a slow turn, giving me a hesitant smile. Our eyes lock, and something thrums between us.
She’s wearing my name…
I’ve seen other guys’ girlfriends and wives do this and figured one day it might be me too. Never in a million years did I expect it would be Sophie, considering we didn’t exactly hit it off in the beginning.
Coach yells for me to get moving, so I wave and skate back to the tunnel. Kinsley said I like Sophie, and I do. But I suspect what I’m feeling for her goes beyond like. Could Sophie have caught feelings for me, too? Something’s definitely sparking between us, but I’m still not sure if it’s anything more than animosity and grudging attraction.
Knowing my sister as I do, I wouldn’t be surprised if she manipulated Sophie into wearing my jersey. Just what I need—another matchmaker trying to make us a couple. Guess I’ll have to apologize for my sister’s antics as well.
Again, Coach walks us through some strategy ideas because the team we’re playing is known for amping up their speed in the last period.
Coach pulls me aside. “Mathéo’s not going to finish the game.”
“Is he okay?”
He nods. “Probably just a sprain, but he can’t skate. I’m replacing him with Jayce.”
I huff out a humorless laugh. “Jayce? You sure about that?”
“He’s one of our fastest. And we’re going to need it. Keep an eye on him, okay?”
I want to argue, but we’re due back on the ice. “Sure thing.”
Once we’re out there, Jayce is full of himself, but he manages to steal the puck during a breakaway, which is impressive. Then he shoots back down the ice so fast I’m worried the play will wind up offside.
I race to catch up with him and match my pace when he slows, waiting for Ethan to get out of the offensive zone. Good to see he’s using his head.
Unfortunately, that margin of delay gives the other team time to go after him. Jayce barrels down like he’s going to make a play, but he can’t see what I do. They’ll slam him into the boards before he gets a chance.
I’m about to look for Payton for backup when Jayce sends the puck my way.
Shock slices through me. He did it. He made the pass.
No time to think more about it. I take the puck down toward the net. About ten feet in front of the crease, I spin to my left and make the shot.
And score.
The fans go nuts, loving that I did a hat trick. I can’t believe it myself, especially considering it happened with an assist from Jayce. We skate by the bench, fist-bumping our teammates, then leave the ice as the second line flows over the wall.
Jayce sits between Payton and me. I spit out my mouth guard. “Good pass, Jay-man.”
He snickers, then shrugs. “I did it for the team.”
Payton shoots me a slanted grin, marking the moment as a success.
Maybe I’m getting through to this kid after all.