Chapter 45
DENALI
THAT’D MAKE ME SAY NO
The excitement was hard to keep down in the days following our typewriter appointment. I mean, holy shit. Zariah and I were talking about engagement rings. Even if it was a no right now, we were at a conversation I wouldn’t have believed at the beginning of the year.
On the way to the library with Elijah, I couldn’t stop grinning. How could life get better than this? We had a study group planned with the guys and June, and I had news for our crew they wouldn’t believe.
Elijah was quiet but he’d definitely been quieter since he started therapy. I didn’t think anything of it until he pulled out his chair at the study table and cleared his throat. “Uh…so, Dr. Abels and I’ve been talking a lot about—uh—apologies.”
The table fell silent as everybody glanced up from their laptops.
“He’s my shrink—whatever,” Elijah mumbled. “Real apologies mean you don’t try to—you know—absolve your actions, and—um—you need to take real accountability. So I’m…I’m sorry. About the party. It was my fault and I shouldn’t have…” He swallowed, his voice rougher. “I’m sorry.”
The silence hung in the air.
“No worries,” Nick said quickly. “We’ve all—”
“It’s good that you’re saying sorry for real this time,” Fridge spoke over Nick. “But did you apologize to King? The guy you actually, physically hurt?”
My frown deepened. “Fridge—”
“No, this is shit I need to hear,” Elijah said.
“I did say sorry to him, and he said it was in the past, it doesn’t matter anymore.
But then…Willow told me to stop contacting them.
” Elijah lifted a shoulder, dejected. “Dr. Abels said that sometimes…sometimes apologies aren’t what people need, and we have to respect that. ”
Part of me wished Zariah was here to see this but maybe it was a good thing Elijah did this without her. It was a sign that he was trying to get better on his own. The guys offered words of encouragement, and Bear squeezed Elijah’s shoulder.
When he finished, Elijah settled back in his chair, silent again. That wasn’t easy for him, but I knew a way to perk him up.
“So, we have some good news,” I announced. “Houston Times wants to do a story.”
The guys glanced up again, Elijah included.
Montoya’s mouth fell open. “Houston Times is doing a story on you?”
“On all of us,” I corrected.
“Holy shit.” Elijah blinked. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Mom didn’t say anything?” June remarked, confused.
“She’s announcing it later today.” I grinned.
“They’re doing a spread on us—it’s the first time a Houstonian team could take the Gulf Coast Cup, and Marrs has never even gotten close.
” My grin widened. “I mean, fuck. Coach Vernon went to prison—think how far we’ve come!
” I glanced between Elijah and Montoya. “Think of how far all of us have come.”
Elijah smiled and Montoya’s face darkened with a blush as everyone else talked about the upcoming article—but there was more.
“A big part of the piece is about the requested transfer…”
Fridge frowned. “Transfer?”
“Sémajuste is putting in the request to move us from the TIHCC. We want to be part of the USAC.”
Nick choked on his water while everyone else watched me, shocked.
June opened her mouth and snapped it shut, confused. “I’m sorry, I thought the USAC is like…the biggest US collegiate hockey conference?”
“It is. We’d be the first Texas team to play in it. Ever.”
Bear shot me an incredulous look. “They’ll never approve us—”
“We’re going to win the Gulf Coast Cup—”
“Even winning the Gulf Coast Cup is a hell of a lot different than the USAC—why am I telling you this? You know it.” Bear huffed a breath. “Look, I’m going to Boston soon, I don’t have skin in the game, but I’m telling you, this is fucking crazy.”
“We can do it,” I insisted. “It just depends on us winning the Cup—”
“Oh, easy then,” Nick snorted. “Just win a championship we haven’t even qualified for because we still have another playoff game.”
I ignored him. “It also depends on our upcoming summer. Final decisions to get into the USAC are handed out in August. If we manage to—”
“I’m in,” Elijah interjected.
“It’s stupid but I’m in too,” Fridge added.
Montoya nodded eagerly. “I’m in. Whatever I can do to help.”
“I’m…uh…” Nick cleared his throat. “Not going to be here during the summer.”
The anticipation growing at the table took a sharp turn as everybody faced Nick.
I was confused. “I approved Sémajuste’s list, you’re here.”
“Erm…next fall. Not for the summer.”
“What do you mean?”
Nick raked a hand through his hair. It was so weird but if I didn’t know any better, I could’ve sworn he was nervous. “I’m—uh—going to Canada.”
“Canada?” Fridge repeated. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“For Juniors? Camps?” I pressed, more bewildered with each question. “With who?”
“The Toronto Blades,” he said awkwardly. “Canada’s running a summer league competition to grab some of the crowds from the Olympics. We’ll be working directly with the Winter Olympic coaches—” He grimaced. “You know, it’ll be a—I don’t know—good way to get close to them.”
“But you hate the Winter Olympics?” Fridge said, just as confused as I felt.
“You told me those coaches suck shit like two weeks ago,” Bear added.
“Things change.” Nick shrugged uncomfortably. “I think this’ll be good…for my career.”
Nick was someone I relied on in games, someone I depended on. If he wasn’t going to be here this summer…my brain whirled, trying to figure out what we could get out of this. “Wait, wait, wait.” I narrowed my eyes. “Is Coach Tomasini part of it?”
“Yeah. He’s running it.”
“He’s friends with the commissioner,” I said.
“So?”
“You get close to him, that’s our path to the USAC!”
Fridge’s eyes bounced between us, amused. “Tomasini hates Nick.”
“What?”
“It’s not that bad,” Nick interjected. “Well, it’s not great, but—”
“But he doesn’t like you?” I pressed.
“It’s a long story—”
“I don’t care. You need to figure it out,” I warned.
Nick scoffed. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t give a shit if you have to buff his car, fuck his daughter, and tongue his shoes this summer,” I retorted. “Take a leaf out of everyone else’s book. Stop being such an asshole. Apologize for whatever you did and make things right. I want us out of the TIHCC.”
“Zariah’s doing so good at domesticating you,” he muttered. “How could I forget you’re an uptight asshole?”
“Figure it the fuck out. Or when you come back, you’re on board-scrubbing duty.”
Nick groaned and put his head in his arms, thumping to the table.
Bear snickered. “You did this to yourself. I don’t know why the fuck you thought this would go any different.”
For as much as I liked Nick, he was a playboy and had a history of pissing off people by messing with their girlfriends, their daughters, or their moms. Whatever happened with Tomasini, I had no doubt it was Nick’s fault.
We were all working on our apologies, now it was Nick’s turn. I didn’t care how much he didn’t want to do it—this could be our chance at the USAC.
“Here comes the voice change,” Nick taunted, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Zariah walking around the tables, heading my way, a manilla envelope in hand.
I stood up instantly, almost knocking over the table. My teammates grunted from the other side, struggling to keep things intact, swearing at me.
My smile was instant. “Hey, honey.”
“Oh my god,” Nick muttered.
“I need to talk to you,” Zariah said quietly.
Wrapping a hand around her waist, I directed her to the quiet hallway. “Hi,” I murmured, my hand skimming up her waist.
“I was going to talk to you later, but…it’s done,” she admitted.
“What’s done?”
She held up the manilla envelope with a sigh. “Sisyphus’s boulder.”
“The script?” My grin widened. “Holy shit. Congratulations."
“Mm, you say that now.”
I tipped my chin to the library’s exit. “Do you want to go get dinner—?”
“I think I took it too far.” She bit her lip. “It’s about us.”
“I know.”
“No, I thought if I let you free-read, that’d be better?
Like tell you nothing and let you figure it out, it’d somehow soften the blow, but I’m definitely rethinking that.
" She tucked a curl behind her ear. "I need to tell you. The script’s about Hersch’s last hospital visit. Before we left Colorado.”
My heart thumped at the memory. Zariah fled a week before she was supposed to go, taking Hersch with her.
“It’s not a…truthful account,” she admitted. “I didn’t try to write factually. I wrote everything that made me feel. So, some little details are from other hospital visits, I switched some events around, and I obviously changed names, but—I want to make sure that this is okay.”
“It’s okay,” I said before she could finish.
“No, Denali, I need you to read it.” Zariah hesitated. “If you can’t, that’s okay, because then I just won’t send it. I can write something else—”
“No, of course I’ll read it.”
Gently, I took the envelope from her. Zariah rubbed the back of her neck. “Only my professor’s going to read it, I won’t, like, film it or anything. And if you want this kept private, I won’t submit it.”
“I’ll read it now.” I thumbed towards our table. “Do you want to hang out? We’re doing a study group.”
“No, Tallulah and I are doing writing sprints at Gianna’s.” Zariah blew out a breath. “No offense, but I can’t watch you read it.”
“I don’t stick around when you read my letters.”
Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “But those are just letters?”
“But it’s, you know, vulnerable shit.” I shrugged.
“I said that because I want you to know I understand. I get it. I’ll text you when I’m finished, okay?
” Grinning again, I tried to ease her nervousness.
“Trust me, it’s going to be a yes. I can’t imagine what could be in here that’d make me say no. ”