Forty-Four
It felt fucking good to win. We played our game, and we were fucking solid out there tonight.
Max and I were in sync; meanwhile, Jake and Monroe kept shit moving.
My brother took a shot, and I know he went wide on purpose.
I felt it when he sent it toward the net.
He did that shit for me, and I fucking love him for it.
We snuffed out Stonebridge, and now we’ll face off against Coventry.
Whoever wins the Big Ten moves on for a chance at the Frozen Four, and fuck do we want that.
Our cap and several other guys are moving on after this season, and to go out on top would be a fucking dream come true.
It’d also look real fucking good for me and the boys when we go out for the draft.
Before we hit the ice, Coach told us that the HU’s Athletic Department Social Media Team was here tonight to market the fucking auction fundraiser that’s happening on Thursday.
He warned us that they’d be sent back after the game to film content and to interview us, and he threatened to add to our volunteer hours if we gave them any shit.
Then the bastard promised to scratch us for the rest of the season if we tried to skip out on the interviews.
He made sure to stare me down when he said it.
After we fucking won, we had ten minutes before the staff opened the doors and let them all in. That’s when Payton fucking beelined for me.
She strutted over with her obnoxious, bright pink phone in her hand and all the fucking confidence in the world, as if she was the one who scored tonight and clinched a playoff run.
It didn’t matter how hard I glared, she just kept stretching her artificial smile.
It made my fucking teeth hurt to look at her.
She was already annoying the ever-loving shit out of me, and she hadn’t even spoken yet.
“I didn’t see Val out there, lettme guess, she’s still afraid of big spaces with tiny doors?
” She mocks in a voice that has me wanting to rip her throat out so that she shut the fuck up.
“I can’t tell you how many times I told Gabe that she should’ve gotten her head checked.
She would have a mini mental breakdown every year when we’d go on field trips to Broadway to see shows.
She hated those theatres.” She looks like she’s a million miles away, even though I’m face-to-face with the disturbance in her eyes.
“I used to follow her into the bathroom just to hear her cry in there,” she says as she sighs, “I miss high school. Such happy memories.”
“What do you want, Payton?” I breathe out through gritted teeth and try to remain calm, which isn’t easy for me to do.
“Are you excited for Thursday?” Her voice sounds like scratched glass and hurts my ears.
I’d rather swallow broken shards than participate in the fucking event that she’s talking about.
“I thought you’d want to make sure that the scholarship fund was full to cover Valentine next year.
” I look up at her face and don’t say a fucking word.
I just stare her down to let her know that what she’s doing isn’t gonna work on me.
I’m not gonna give this bitch the fucking satisfaction.
I’m not going to that stupid event. I’ll enter the fucking draft after this season if it means that Ed doesn’t have to worry about scholarship shit or money, ever again.
“Again, what do you want?” This is fucking painful. I swear that this girl can’t take a fucking hint.
“Make sure that Val comes on Thursday. Gabe and his business partner are coming. And he wants to see his prima (cousin) . It’s been a long time. And they have a lot to catch up on, you know; lying, deceit, snitching, things like that,” she says with a smile and a nonchalant shrug.
“Tell your man that I want to see him. This shit can be handled between us.”
“Oh, you’ll meet him. Him and his business partner can’t wait to meet a future NHL star.”