Chapter 20
Gripping my phone, I stare down at the list on my screen, willing the empty boxes to magically tick themselves. As if sheer desperation could somehow make Laura more qualified than she is.
Shockingly, the universe refuses to cooperate.
It’s not enough. She hasn’t done enough.
Fuuuuck.
Despite us working our asses off, she still hasn’t checked off all the skills on that damn list.
And it’s not on her. Not really.
That list was stacked against her from day one, and with the number of games I’ve had this month, plus traveling, practices, film… I just haven’t had the time I wanted to give her, which kills me.
She’s been trying so damn hard, and she trusted me to help her.
I feel like I’ve let her down…again.
“What are you looking at?” Alex asks, peering over my shoulder when he should be putting his skates on.
“Nothing,” I say, turning my phone off. “Just a list of notes for one of the students I’m privately training.”
They don’t know. It’s been nearly a month since I agreed to help Laura, and not one of the guys has figured out what I’m doing with the scraps of free time I’ve got.
And honestly? I’m doing everything I can to keep it that way.
She wants to keep it a secret, and I need to prove I can keep it.
Will that matter though after this audition?
She’ll probably drop me again because she doesn’t even want to look at me.
I push the thoughts aside; the distraction won’t help me with this game against Brighton U, and we need to keep winning to have any chance of getting into the Frozen Four this year.
“Are you okay?” Alex asks. I was so lost in my own thoughts, I completely forgot he was sitting there.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been acting… cagey these last few weeks.”
“Cagey?” I wave him off, focusing on untying and then retying my skate laces. “Nah, I’m good.”
The locker room goes quiet. Too quiet. When I glance up, every single one of my teammates is staring at me with way too much interest.
“Wait, what did I do?” I ask, confused.
Brooks groans. “I told you we shouldn’t do this right before a game,” he mutters, strolling out of the room to the rink. I wish I was walking with him, but I have a sneaking suspicion that if I attempt to move, I’ll be stopped by the rest of the team.
Alex’s hand rests on my shoulder. “We’re here for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Silence.
No one wants to answer me.
“Is everything okay at home?” he asks. “Are your parents and sister okay?”
“If you want an update on my family, just turn on Chally Sports Monday at nine. They’re always there.”
“Well, if it’s not your family, then what’s going on with you?” Alex asks, the rest of the team watching with interest.
Why do I feel like I’m in a group therapy session where I’m the only one forced to talk?
“Nothing’s going on with me.” I raise a brow.
That’s when Erik coughs. “Yeah, and I don’t have two giant nutcrackers at the end of my bed,” he says sarcastically, because he does. Much to Alex’s disappointment since he’s afraid of clowns, but that’s another story. “They think you’re doing drugs,” Erik states.
“WHAT?!” I stand in complete disbelief as I glare at all of them. “You can’t be serious. We get tested weekly. Why on earth would you think I’m doing drugs?”
Alex takes the lead, as he seems to have done since this entire thing started.
“You’ve been different the last few weeks.”
“Different how?”
“You’re leaving practice early. You seem distracted when we’re at the rink teaching the kids. You’re never around the dorm to watch plays. It’s like you’ve suddenly turned into a completely different person.”
“Because I haven’t been around as much?” I ask with a raised brow.
“Yeah… we’re just used to you being our captain, and we miss it.”
They miss me? That’s why they think I’m doing drugs. Wow, these guys need something better to do with their Friday nights.
“I’m not doing drugs.”
“Told you,” Erik says, opening his arms wide and glancing around the room. “If he was doing drugs, his pupils would be shot, and he’d be twitching all the time.”
“Thank you.” I immediately regret thanking him, because he’ll gloat about this forever. “I’m not and have never taken drugs. My dad would kill me before he’d let that happen.”
There’s another beat of silence, as if they’re all still taking this in.
How long have they been talking about this?
“Exactly! This is just like the Cade situation. No drugs, just some super-secret underground bar activities…” he drawls out.
“Although, it’s not a bar that Scotty’s addicted to.
No. He’s got a different drug.” Erik says, then pauses.
“And that’s all I’m going to say over fear of stepping over the boundary with my linemate. ”
“The respectable thing would’ve been saying nothing at all,” I retort, making Erik step back.
“Hey, at least I wasn’t the one who made up this rumor about you. Face it, Hendricks, you’re a commodity, not only when you’re on TV, but in this locker room. People watch you whether you like it or not. I was an asshole as a freshman.”
The locker room mumbles in agreement, but Erik doesn’t stop glaring me down, and he moves forward, standing toe-to-toe with me.
“I did stupid things because I thought I was helping you. I stopped that, and even though I’m the only person in this room not trying to dissect every ounce of your existence, you’re still looking at me like I’m the worst possible human being on the planet.”
“Uh.”
I don’t even know what to say to that. Neither does the rest of the room.
“Now, can we please get on the ice before we force Scotty into giving us a confession over something he clearly wants none of us to know about?”
Erik grabs his stick and waltzes out of the locker room, grumbling incoherently under his breath.
“Well, that was a little dramatic,” I say to lighten the mood.
It doesn’t work, but on the bright side, the team does start to leave the locker room.
“Sorry,” Alex says, scratching the back of his head. “I didn’t mean to make it a thing. Coach McKibbon asked me to find out what was going on with you, and then when I started asking around, it turned into a thing. I shouldn’t have asked like that.”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
I have been distant, and it’s not just about carving out time to see Laura. It’s because if I hang around these idiots long enough, I’ll slip. I’ll say something I shouldn’t. Something she wouldn’t want shared, and if I do, I’ll lose the one thing I’ve managed to hold onto with her.
I want to help her.
Fuck, I want way more than that…and I think she does too, but she won’t admit it.
We’ve spent approximately twelve skating lessons together since the cock-blocking Zamboni, and there’s been no mention of the near-kiss.
Not a single word.
I remember the next session so clearly. She waltzed in, all professional and uptight. She barely looked at me, and I can confidently say it was the worst lesson we’ve ever had together.
It’s been the running theme of every lesson since, which is why I believe her progression has stalled. She doesn’t trust me. She doesn’t want to, and I guess she’s not wrong to feel that way, but it kills me all the time to see she’s not living up to her potential.
I turn to Alex. “If I get in any trouble, I’ll let you know, but I’m good. I promise.”
“Sure thing, Boss.” He moves to leave, and just as I’m about to follow behind him, my phone buzzes.
“I’ll be out in a second,” I say, picking up my phone to turn it off before going out on the ice.
Except, the name across the screen makes me stop.
Princess.
I can’t leave her unread. I’ve never had that ability.
Princess <3: I’m sorry for texting you, but I’m freaking out. I don’t think I can do this audition. I tried skating on my own today, and failed miserably…again. I don’t suppose you have a free hour tonight for another lesson?
The locker room noise fades around me. All I can focus on is the panic bleeding through her message. She tried on her own. She failed, and now she's spiraling right before the biggest audition of her life.
I start typing before I can think it through.
Scotty: I’m sorry, Princess. I’d love to, but I have a game tonight. Maybe you should come? Watching us skate might help your movements, and give you something else to think about.
It's a weak offer, and I know it. As much as I want to, I can't help her right now—I have a game to play, and a team depending on me.
Princess <3: Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I should’ve known you had a game. Good Luck. I know you’ll do great. You always do.
I turn the phone on silent, and although I know I should put the phone in my bag and head out to the game, I can’t help the nagging feeling in my stomach. I won’t be able to skate with her again before her audition. If she’s freaking out now, what’s she going to be like on audition day?
Fuck it.
I have to help her, but I don’t know how.
That’s when the idea pops into my head.
Scotty: Why don’t you come to the Covey rink after 10? The game finishes at 8:30 and everyone will be gone by then. We can have one final skate and really nail those crossovers.
Princess <3: Are you allowed to do that?
Scotty: Yeah. I have a key. It will be just us, I promise. Even the Zamboni will be out of action.
The second I send it, I wince, knowing I shouldn’t have mentioned our near kiss. Oh, well. It’s been put out there now.
The three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
I sit there, anxiously waiting for her response, knowing she’s freaking out as she thinks it through.
“Hendricks!” Coach McKibbon's voice booms from the hallway. “National anthem in two. Let's move!”
Reluctantly, I shove my phone in my bag without checking for her response and force myself to stand. I'll figure this out. I have to, but first, I need to win this game.