Chapter 16
TY
Captain’s practice at The Dominion Ice Center is almost officially underway. Somewhere in the building, a cheer erupts, reminding me that down the hall, on the community ice sheet, is a youth camp. Probably full of future Dominion hopefuls, at least a couple.
Summer hockey. Keeping up for the coming season. Informal summer sessions like this are what I live for. Ice, my game, and a clear head. My phone buzzes while I’m halfway through taping my stick.
Sawyer:
Don’t let Campbell turn this into bag skates. I’m serious. One summer clinic and suddenly he thinks he’s Herb Brooks.
I snort under my breath.
Won’t dream of letting him work us into the ground. Nice one with Herb Brooks. Someone watching old US Olympic hockey footage from the 80s?!?
Sawyer:
I’m at a clinic. They’re making us watch old footage.
Across the locker room, Campbell stands at the whiteboard in his best pair of flip-flops and a Dominion practice tee, drawing arrows like we’re in Game Seven instead of a voluntary offseason skate in July.
“First of all,” Owen says beside me, leaning against his stall, “the fact he brought a whiteboard should be a red flag.”
“He laminated the practice plan,” Liam adds from the other side of the room.
Campbell doesn’t even look up. “Conditioning starts in six weeks. Some of you look like you’ve been in committed relationships with DoorDash.”
“That feels targeted,” Owen mutters, tracking Campbell as we watch him unpack a stacked set of small orange cones from a box, and toss them to the floor.
He has cones. Actual cones. Pray for us.
Three dots appear immediately.
Sawyer:
I leave town for ONE week.
I shove my phone into my bag before Campbell can start confiscating electronics like a disappointed gym teacher. It won’t matter if I’m texting with his cousin, who is also our star winger. What will matter is if he thinks I’m not paying attention.
“Buckets on,” he calls. “Let’s move.”
A chorus of complaints follows him out of the room.
Typical captain’s skate. Fun and lighthearted, this is meant to keep us in check, not cause a check mate.
No coaches. No systems meetings. No media.
Just vets trying to knock the rust off before training camp and pretending the compete level isn’t already creeping back in.
The first few laps are easy. Loose. Everybody pretends they’re not sucking wind yet. Campbell blows the whistle anyway.
“Edges,” he calls from center ice.
We break into lines, running tight turns around the circles before transitioning backward through the neutral zone. Nothing flashy. Just enough to wake your legs up and remind you hockey shape and gym shape are two completely different things.
Liam falls into stride beside me during the next drill, both of us gliding back toward the line after a regroup through center.
“You look like the cat who ate the canary today,” he says casually.
“Or the cardinal,” Owen laughs, zipping past and spraying snow in our direction.
I shrug, trying to keep my face neutral. “I’m a man with…secrets.”
“That’s a casual segue," Liam says, coming to a full stop. “Secrets like what?”
A throw away comment, that’s all it was meant to be. Not a confession.
“Secrets like…I saw how you were checking out your sister’s friend the other night at The Oarhouse.” Yes. Good job me. Deflect.
Liam rolls his eyes. “I’ve known Eva for a long time, I was probably telling her she had something in her teeth.”
“Not like we didn’t see you make a beeline for a certain jewelry designer when she showed up,” Owen tosses out as he whizzes past again, tapping my butt with his stick. “Come on, Ty, keep it moving. Let’s keep your peach tight.”
Spinning on my skates, I reach out to tap Owen, who ducks just beyond my reach, as Liam laughs.
“Guys,” Campbell calls out, “Come on. Stay somewhat serious, okay? I know we’re informal, but I’m trying to put together a pick up game for us in a week or so with some of the elite players.”
“Yes sir,” Liam calls out, turning around and pointing a finger. “I’m gonna place fifty dollars on a bet.”
Owen slows down, coming to a halt beside him. “What’s the bet?”
“That Ty’s looking so happy because of Vivian.” He then stares at me, like he’s trying to find a needle in a haystack, squinting his eyes and studying my features.
“That’s so weird,” I say, shoving past him and laughing him off, or at least attempting to. “Stop.”
Owen shakes his head. “Nah, that’s not it.”
“Willing to put your money where your mouth is?” Liam shoots back.
“You bet I am.” Owen points to Liam, taking the bet, before he looks at me and taps his stick. “Well, is he right?”
I should deny it. Honestly, I fully intend to.
Then Liam keeps staring at me with this stupidly smug expression like he already knows the answer, and something about the combination of summer skate exhaustion and these idiots being impossible to escape finally cracks my self-preservation clean in half.
I exhale sharply through my nose. “We kissed.”
“You are kidding me!” Owen yells loud enough that Campbell immediately blows his whistle from across the ice.
“What now?” Campbell shouts.
Before either one of these two dum dums can answer, I butt in. “He lost a bet, no big.”
“No,” Owen charges on, grinning, “you kissed…”
“OWEN,” I bark as Campbell goes back to focusing on a drill with Nathan, while Liam stares at me like I just admitted to committing tax fraud.
“You kissed Vivian,” he repeats slowly. “Dude, I’ve known her forever and it feels like you kissed my sister.”
“Well, it’s not your sister.”
“Good thing,” Liam chuckles. “Probably a good time for me to remind all of you that Lucy is off limits.”
Owen points at me dramatically. “See what you did? You’ve made him mad now.”
I shake my head, pushing off toward the boards “You guys are unbelievable.”
“But was it a good kiss?” Owen asks, staying on my right side as I move.
“Owen, I’m going to—”
There’s movement on my left, Liam joining us. “That’s a yes.”
“That is not what I said.”
Liam and Owen both crack up. “You didn’t have to.”
They aren’t wrong. I can still remember exactly how she looked standing in that alley, and the way she kissed me like she was trying not to and failing anyway.
Judging by the grin spreading across Liam’s face, apparently my expression gives away way more than I think it does.
“I knew it,” Liam says as he throws his hand in the air for a high-five from anyone. “Owen, I’ll take that fifty bucks right after practice, thank you very much. I also accept food and beverage in lieu of monetary prizes.”
Owen winces dramatically. “I hate this for me specifically.”
“Good,” I mutter.
Campbell blows the whistle again. “Enough social hour. Battle drill. McCade, Snyder, line up.”
Owen skates backward away from us, pointing his stick at me. “We are absolutely revisiting this later.”
“Hard pass,” I mutter to his back.
“You don’t get a vote anymore,” he calls over his shoulder.
Liam laughs beside me as we skate toward center ice, both of us slowing near the faceoff dot while Campbell explains the drill for approximately the fifth time like we haven’t all been doing variations of this since we were kids.
“You good?” Liam asks quieter this time, the teasing finally easing out of his voice.
It catches me off guard a little. Not the question itself, but the sincerity behind it.
I glance toward him, tightening my grip on my stick, and think about it. Weirdly, I am fine. “Yeah.”
Because for the first time in a while, things don’t feel heavy. Complicated? Absolutely. Potentially disastrous? Also yes, but not heavy.
The thought of Vivian sparks something inside of me, restless and alive. I don’t know what this is, and I definitely don’t know what she wants, but hey––I don’t even know what I’m doing.
But I know I kissed her in an alley in Old Town, and when I woke up this morning, my first thought was wanting to do it again.
Liam bumps his shoulder lightly against mine. “Okay. Good.”
Across the ice, Campbell blows the whistle and points at us.
“Move your asses, kids, and let’s do this.”
I push off first, digging my skates into the ice as Liam chases after me. This is life moving forward whether you’re ready for it or not.
For the first time in a long time, I think maybe I am.