Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Capital One Arena, Washington
Eden
The lights are bright in the Capital One Arena. I squint against them. My head throbs. It’s approaching a pain rating of four, but I don’t want to worry Robyn with my shit.
The play on the ice is worrying enough.
Bay Rebels are losing 2 — 1 to the Washington Capitals, the Caps.
The Bay Rebels only have ten minutes left of play to score.
My hands are clenched in the pockets of my long woolen coat, which I have pulled close around me. It has become increasingly hard to warm them up.
I need to check with Cody whether I need to talk to the hospital consultants about that.
I am wearing my game night gray suit and silver waistcoat.
Earlier, I wrapped my scarf around Robyn’s sweet neck.
She is standing next to me, close enough that our hips are touching, pressing her hand to the glass. She hasn’t glanced away from the rink for the last half an hour. Her brow is furrowed with concern.
She is dressed in a woolen fuchsia dress and coat, which sweeps the floor, even as she stands on tiptoes to watch the play.
Something is wrong with my brother.
It has been for days, possibly longer.
He hasn’t told me what the problem is, which is worrying when he always tells me everything.
We share our lives, even Robyn.
Except, Shay didn’t tell me that Blythe was hurting him at college.
I failed to protect him then. What if I’m failing my brother again now?
My jaw clenches.
I shiver with cold, breathing in the scent of rubber and sweat.
Robyn and I drove to Washington together in the staff bus, while D’Angelo and Shay were taken in the team bus.
Shay told me that I’m lucky because I get to spend the drives to away games quietly sitting in the back seats with Cody, Robyn, and Noah, eating the sandwiches and cakes that I have made for the journey and working on my laptop.
On the other hand, D’Angelo and he are surrounded by the overexcited antics and pranks of Grayson and Lucas, Atlas who firmly relegated Shay to the back of the bus citing rules on hockey seniority, and Zach who chooses the worst superhero movies for them all to watch.
Today, Shay told me with a groan that Zach put on Batman we are both watching the same game. Look, Grayson has the puck, but the whole team are a mess. He doesn’t even have anyone to pass to. Fuck, he’s lost it again. Dad is going to bust their balls.”
The Bay Rebels aren’t taking advantage of their chances.
But that’s not what I’m talking about.
“Shay keeps getting these messages,” I say. “He hides them as quickly as he can, but I’ve glimpsed a couple.”
Finally, Robyn turns to face me. “What type of messages?”
“Emojis. I never understand them. Are you sending them to him?”
“Well,” Robyn blushes, “sometimes we flirt in them, you know?”
“No.”
She stares at me, before patting my chest. “Then I won’t corrupt you. Did they include an eggplant or a taco?”
“Why? Were you messaging about what you wanted to eat?”
Why is she laughing?
“Sort of. Maybe D’Angelo was texting him. If it included a peach, then definitely.”
I shake my head. “D’Angelo prefers to eat apples.” Why is she laughing harder? “One of the emojis I saw was an ace of hearts.”
Instantly, Robyn sobers. “Shit, that’s not good. If D’Angelo isn’t messaging him about our card game, then what if someone else is playing a game with Shay?”
I startle.
Fear jolts through me.
I yank my hands out of my pockets and rest them against the glass like I can beat and shatter it, breaking my way through to stand with my brother.
Yet I’m no longer able to skate. I can’t support Shay like that anymore.
He’s my twin, but on the ice, he has to fight this battle alone.
Has he been fighting another battle all alone that none of us have known about?
Desperately, I watch as he falls apart in front of the audience and cameras.
D’Angelo makes one last effort to pull Shay into the game, skating with him to the center of the rink.
“Puck,” I whisper like I can make Shay steal the puck from the Caps’ towering, bearded center somehow.
Next to me, Robyn takes up the hopeful chant underneath her breath. “Puck, puck, puck.”
Shay weaves toward the center, attempting to tackle the rival center.
I hold my breath.
Then my nails scrape against the glass, when I notice the right defensemen skating hard toward Shay.
My brother is still lost somewhere in his mind. Coach is screaming at him, loudly enough to make me cringe.
Shay didn’t make these kind of mistakes when he was a rookie.
The right defenseman shoulder checks Shay brutally in the chest.
I flinch.
Shay appears dazed, being muscled out of position almost like he’s forgotten what he’s meant to be doing.
He crashes to his knees, catching himself awkwardly on his gloved hands. He drops his stick.
Immediately, D’Angelo skates to Shay’s side, crouching over him to see that he’s okay.
The rival center skates toward Zach with the puck.
I close my eyes. “We’ve lost.”
Shay and I have lost.
I don’t want to witness it, even as the home crowd wildly cheer, as the Caps score.
I’m going to find out what is going on with my brother.
Who is sending him those messages.
Then I’m going to burn down their fucking world for making him fall.
My brother only deserves to fly.