CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE #2
“I’m not letting him face this alone. I’m not letting any of them face this alone.” I’m shoving my feet into my shoes. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t—if we hadn’t—”
“Stop.” Teddy’s in front of me now. “This isn’t your fault. This is the fault of whoever took those photos and sent them to the press. This is the fault of a society that can’t handle people loving outside the lines. But it’s not your fault for falling in love.”
“Johns Hopkins doesn’t see it that way.”
“Then screw Johns Hopkins.”
I stare at him.
“You heard me. Screw them. Any school that judges you for who you love doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs his keys. “Come on. I’m driving.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Yes I do. You’re my little sister. Those idiots are—well, they’re growing on me. And nobody gets to destroy my family without going through me first.”
The arena parking lot busier than I expected for a team meeting.
Teddy parks and I’m out of the car before he’s even turned off the engine.
“Ellie, wait—”
I’m already running.
The arena doors are locked but I know the side entrance code—Jordie gave it to me weeks ago. I punch it in with shaking fingers.
Inside, I can hear voices. Lots of them. Coming from the locker room.
I head that way, Teddy close behind.
“You sure about this?” he asks.
“No. But I’m doing it anyway.”
The locker room door is closed but not locked. I can hear their coach’s voice, then Grant’s, then—
I push the door open.
Twenty-five guys in hockey jerseys turn to stare at me.
Grant’s standing in the middle of the room. Wyatt and Jordie are beside him.
They all look exhausted. Worn down. Like they’ve been fighting a war they’re not sure they can win.
“Elise.” Grant’s voice cracks on my name.
“Bad timing?” I ask the room.
Coach sighs. “We’re in the middle of a team vote, Miss Hart.”
“I know. I saw the article.” I look around at all of them. “So vote. But you should know what you’re actually voting on.”
“We know what we’re voting on,” one of the guys says. I recognize him—Bryce, my old lab partner. The one who dropped the class. “We’re voting on whether our captain can keep his head in the game or if he’s too distracted by his—” He stops. Seems to think better of finishing that sentence.
“His what?” I step further into the room. “His relationship? His personal life? The fact that he’s in love?”
Silence.
“Because if that’s what we’re calling a distraction, then half this team should step down. How many of you have girlfriends? Relationships? Situationships? How many of you are trying to balance school and hockey and a personal life?”
More silence.
“Grant is the best captain you’ve had in years. Jordie’s your best defenseman. Wyatt’s—” I look at him. “Wyatt’s the heart of this team even if you’re all too stupid to see it.”
“This is different,” someone else says.
“How?”
“It’s—they’re—” The guy flounders.
“Four people instead of two? Yeah. I can count. But last time I checked, loving more people doesn’t make you less dedicated. If anything, Grant’s more motivated now. He’s got more to fight for.”
I turn to look at Grant directly now.
“You told me this morning that you were being realistic. That you were protecting everyone’s futures.” My voice cracks. “But you were just scared. Scared of wanting something. Scared of losing it. Scared of being happy because you think you don’t deserve it.”
He’s staring at me like I’ve ripped his chest open.
“Well, I’m scared too. I’m terrified. Johns Hopkins rescinded my interview today because someone decided my personal life makes me unprofessional. I’ve got reporters calling me every five minutes. The entire internet has opinions about my relationship status.”
Teddy’s behind me, I can feel him there, steady and supportive.
“But you know what I’m most scared of? Losing you. All three of you. Because you’re too afraid to fight for this.”
Wyatt’s the first to move. He crosses the locker room in four strides and pulls me into his arms.
“We’re fighting,” he says quietly. “We’ve been fighting all day.”
Jordie’s next. He wraps around both of us. “My mom’s calling everyone she knows. My dad threatened to pull campaign funding from like six people. It’s been a whole thing.”
Then Grant. His arms come around all three of us and we’re just standing there in the middle of the locker room, holding onto each other like we’re drowning.
“I’m sorry,” he says into my hair. “I’m so sorry. I panicked and I pushed you away and I—”
“I know. I know you’re sorry.” I pull back to look at him. “But you don’t get to make decisions for me. For us. We do this together or we don’t do it at all.”
“Together,” he repeats. “Yeah. Together.”
Someone clears their throat.
Coach is standing there with his arms crossed. “You all done with the Hallmark moment? Because we still have a vote to conduct.”
“Right. Sorry Coach.” Grant doesn’t let go of me though.
“All in favor of Grant Wilder retaining his position as team captain, raise your hand.”
I hold my breath.
Wyatt’s hand goes up immediately. Then Jordie’s. Then—
More hands. Slowly at first, then faster.
Not everyone. But more than half.
“All opposed?”
Eight hands go up. Including Bryce’s.
“Motion carries. Wilder keeps the C.” Coach looks at Grant. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“No sir.”
“Good. Now everyone get out. We’ve got practice I’m tired of talking about your love lives.”
The team files out. Some guys clap Grant on the shoulder as they pass. Others don’t make eye contact.
Bryce stops in front of me. “This doesn’t mean I approve.”
“Don’t care,” I tell him. “You dropped my lab class and screwed me over. We’re not friends.”
He leaves.
When it’s just the five of us—me, Grant, Wyatt, Jordie, and Teddy—I let myself breathe for the first time in hours.
“So,” Teddy says. “Mandatory counseling and community service, huh?”
“You saw the email?” Jordie asks.
“Ellie showed me.”
“It’s—yeah. Fifty hours each. And weekly therapy sessions.” Wyatt runs a hand through his locs. “Could be worse though.”
“Could be expelled,” Grant agrees.
“Could be losing each other,” I add.
They all look at me.
“We’re not losing each other,” Jordie says firmly. “Not now. Not ever.”
“Even if—” I stop. Start again. “Johns Hopkins rescinded my interview. Other schools might too. This could ruin my chances at—”
“Then screw Johns Hopkins,” Wyatt says, echoing Teddy.
“You need to stop saying that,” I tell both of them. “It’s my dream school.”
“Was,” Grant corrects. “Was your dream school. Before they decided loving us made you unprofessional.”
“He’s right,” Jordie says. “Any school that judges you for this doesn’t deserve you.”
My phone buzzes. I almost don’t check it.
But I do.
FROM: [email protected] SUBJECT: Interview Request - Updated
My hands shake as I open it.
Miss Hart,
After further review and consideration, we’d like to extend an interview invitation for our MD program. We apologize for any confusion from our earlier communication.
Please note: Your interview is scheduled for Feb 15th. In-person attendance is required.
We look forward to meeting you.
I read it three times.
“They—they changed their minds.”
“What?” Grant’s reading over my shoulder.
“Johns Hopkins. They want to interview me after all.”
“That’s—that’s amazing,” Jordie says. “Wait, when?”
I check the date. My stomach drops.
“February 15th.”
“That’s playoffs weekend,” Wyatt says quietly.
We all stare at each other.
“You have to go,” Grant says immediately.
“It’s playoffs—”
“You have to go, Elise. This is your future.”
“You’re my future too.”
The words hang there.
“We’ll be here when you get back,” Wyatt says. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“But I’ll miss watching you play. Miss—”
“Watching three guys chase a puck around?” Jordie grins. “Yeah, real hardship.”
“It’s more than that and you know it.”
“I do know it. But I also know that you worked your ass off for this. And you’re going to that interview.” He looks at Grant and Wyatt. “Right?”
They nod.
“But what if—” I can’t finish the sentence.
What if this is the beginning of choosing between them and my dreams and I—
“Hey.” Grant tilts my face up to look at him. “We’ve got two weeks to figure this out. Right now, let’s just—let’s go home.”
“Home,” I repeat.
“Yeah. Our home. Together.”
Teddy clears his throat. “I should probably go. Let you guys—yeah.”
“Teddy—” I hug him hard. “Thank you. For everything.”
“That’s what big brothers are for.” He looks at the guys. “Take care of her. Or I’ll—well, you know what I’ll do.”
“We know,” Grant says.
“I’ll drive you home, meet outside in five?” Teddy asks and I nod.
When Teddy’s gone, the four of us just stand there for a minute.
“We survived,” Jordie says.
“Barely,” Wyatt mutters.
“But we did,” I say. “We survived.”
Grant kisses the top of my head. “We’ll survive the rest too.”
I want to believe him.
But in two weeks, I have to choose between watching the biggest game of their lives or pursuing my dream.
And I have no idea how to do both.