Chapter Forty-Five Zephyr
The bus to Arizona is too quiet.
Usually road trips are loud. Music blasting, guys chirping each other, cards being played in the back rows. But today everyone’s got headphones in or they’re sleeping or they’re just staring out the windows at the desert rolling past.
I’m sitting next to Callum. He’s scrolling through his phone with his jaw tight.
Three rows up, Jax sits alone by the window. Headphones on. Hood up. Hasn’t said a word to anyone since we left campus this morning.
“He’s going to ruin everything,” Callum mutters without looking up from his phone.
“Don’t.”
“I’m serious, Zeff. We have playoffs in two weeks. We can’t afford this shit.”
I glance at the back of Jax’s head. “He’s hurting.”
“I don’t give a fuck about his feelings. You don’t see us acting like assholes.”
I don’t respond because he’s not wrong. But he’s also not right.
Jax is… drowning. And he’s taking all of us down with him.
Coach stands up at the front of the bus. “Listen up. Arizona State is second in the conference. They’re fast, they’re physical, and they play dirty. We need to be sharper than we’ve been. Especially you, top line.”
His eyes land on me, then Callum, then Jax.
Jax doesn’t even look up.
Coach’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t call him out. Just sits back down.
Callum leans over. “This is going to be a disaster.”
“We’ll make it work.”
“How? He won’t even look at us.”
I don’t have an answer for that.
We arrive at the hotel around four. Coach is handing out room keys at the front desk.
“Morrison and Kirby, 310. Wickerham, Brixton, and Kingsway room 304—”
“I need a single,” Jax interrupts.
Everyone stops and looks at him.
Coach frowns. “We don’t have singles on the road. You know that.”
“Then I’ll pay for one myself.”
“Jax—”
“I need space.” His voice is flat. His decision is final. He’s already made up his mind.
Coach stares at him for a long moment. Then he turns to the desk clerk. “Can we get one more room?”
The clerk checks. “We have a single on the fifth floor.”
“Fine. Bill it to the team.” Coach hands Jax the key without looking at him.
Callum steps forward. “Dude, what the fuck?”
Jax takes the key. “I said I need space.”
“We’ve roomed together for three years.”
“Things change.”
He walks toward the elevator without another word.
I watch him go, feeling the entire team watching us. They’re probably wondering what the hell is going on.
Nolan leans over. “Everything okay with you guys?”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just personal shit.”
“Doesn’t seem personal if it’s affecting the team.”
He’s right. But I don’t know what to say.
Callum grabs his duffel and storms toward the stairs. I follow.
In our room, he throws his bag on the bed. “He’s being selfish as fuck.”
“Cal—”
“No. Don’t defend him. We’ve been friends for three years and he’s throwing it all away because he can’t handle sharing.”
I sit on my bed and run my hands through my hair. “I’ve been friends with him a lot longer, Cal. He’s not just upset about sharing. He’s upset about losing.”
“He’s not losing anything. Tiger chose all of us.”
“That’s the problem. He doesn’t want to be one of three. He wants to be the only one.”
Callum paces. “Well, that’s not happening. So he needs to get over it or get out.”
“Yeah.”
He stops and looks at me. “We have a championship to win. We have a team that depends on us. And he’s sabotaging everything because his ego can’t handle not being the center of attention.”
“It’s not about ego. It’s about fear.” I lean back against the headboard. “He’s scared. Same as we are. But he’s dealing with it by trying to control everything instead of just... letting go.”
Callum sits on his bed and stares at the floor for a long, quiet minute. “I won’t let her go.”
“Yeah. Me neither.”
“Think she’s okay?”
“I don’t know. Hope so.”
We sit in silence for a while. Then Callum says, “We’re going to lose tomorrow. You know that, right?”
“Not if we play smart.”
“We can’t play smart when our right wing won’t even look at our left wing.”
He’s right. And we both know it.
Team dinner is at a steakhouse down the street. Long tables, team spread out, coaches at one end.
I end up between Nolan and Asher. Callum’s across from me. Jax is at the far end of the table next to Micah and some of the younger guys.
As far from us as possible.
Micah leans over to Jax and says something I can’t hear. Jax shrugs and doesn’t respond.
Micah tries again. Jax pulls out his phone.
“What’s his deal?” Asher asks me quietly.
“Like Nolan said. Personal shit.”
“Personal shit that’s affecting the team.”
“We’ll handle it.”
“You better. We can’t afford to lose tomorrow.”
Halfway through dinner, one of the guys makes a joke about something. Everyone laughs except Jax.
He doesn’t even look up from his phone.
Callum catches my eye across the table and shakes his head slightly.
This is bad. It’s worse than I thought.
After dinner, we head back to the hotel. I’m about to go to my room when I see Jax in the lobby heading toward the bar.
I follow him.
He orders a beer and sits at the far end of the bar away from everyone.
I sit two stools away and order water.
“You following me now?” he asks without looking over.
“Checking on you.”
“Don’t.”
“Jax—”
“I don’t want to talk, Zeff.”
“Too bad. We need to.”
He takes a long drink. “About what?”
“About tomorrow. About the team. About the fact that you’re destroying everything because––”
“I’m not destroying anything.”
“You requested a single room. You won’t talk to Callum. You won’t even look at me during practice. How is that not fucking everything up?”
He sets his beer down. “You want me to pretend everything’s fine? Pretend I’m okay with you two fucking my girl?”
I scoff. “She’s not your girl. She was never just your girl.”
His jaw clenches. “You have no idea, Zephyr.”
But I do. “So what? That doesn’t give you ownership.”
“It gives me history.”
“We all have history with her now.” I lean closer. “And you walking away doesn’t erase that. It just makes you the guy who couldn’t handle it.”
He looks at me then. “Yeah. I can’t fucking handle it.”
The honesty in his voice catches me off guard.
“Then tell her that,” I say quietly. “Tell her you can’t do this, but you don’t punish her for it. And you don’t punish us.”
“I’m not punishing anyone.”
“Yes, you are. You’re punishing the team. The guys who depend on us.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“None of us do. But we’re trying. And you’re not.”
He finishes his beer and signals for another. “I should have stayed home.”
“Probably. But you didn’t. So now you have to play. And that means you have to function with me and Cal on the ice.”
The bartender brings his second beer. Jax just stares at it. “Does she ask about me?”
My chest tightens. “Yeah.”
“What does she say?”
“She asks if you’re okay.”
“What do you tell her?”
“That you’re not. But that it’s your choice.”
He winces and takes another drink.
“Just come back.”
“I can’t. Not until she chooses.”
“She did choose.”
“Right.” He drinks his beer and stares at the bottles behind the bar.
I sit with him for another ten minutes. Then I leave him there and head up to my room.
Callum’s already in bed, scrolling through his phone.
“Where were you?” he asks.
“Talking to Jax.”
“How’d that go?”
“About as well as you’d expect.”
“So not at all.”
“Yeah.”
I get ready for bed. Brush my teeth, change into sweats, lie down, and stare at the ceiling.
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Tiger.
How’s the trip?
I stare at it for a long moment and wonder what to tell her.
Callum sees me looking at my phone. “Is that her?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t tell her anything about Jax. She’ll blame herself. She’s already dealing with enough.”
He’s right. She has the lawyer stuff. The Zinnia hearing coming up. She doesn’t need to know that Jax is imploding and taking the team down with him.
I text back, Good. Long drive but we’re here. How are you?
Her response comes immediately.
Tired. Met with Marcus today. He thinks the appeal will go through.
That’s good news.
Yeah. I’m trying to stay optimistic.
You should. It’s going to work out.
I hope so. How’s the team?
I pause and glance at Callum.
He shakes his head.
Everyone’s good. Ready for the game tomorrow.
Tell the guys good luck for me.
I hesitate. All of them?
Long pause.
Yes. All of them.
My chest tightens.
Will do. Get some sleep.
You too. Miss you.
I stare at those two words. Miss you.
Miss you too.
I set my phone down and roll over.
Callum’s watching me. “What’d she say?”
“She misses us.”
“All of us?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you tell her about Jax?”
“No.”
“Good.”
We lie there in the dark for a while. Then Callum says, “Do you think this is going to work? Long term?”
“I don’t know.”
Callum doesn’t respond. Just rolls over and eventually his breathing evens out.
But I lie awake for hours. Thinking about tomorrow’s game. About Jax sitting alone at the bar. About Tiger back home dealing with everything by herself.
About how we’re all drowning in different ways.
And I don’t know how to save any of us.
Morning skate is a disaster.
Coach runs drills. Passing. Shooting. Line work.
Jax won’t pass to Callum. When Callum’s open, Jax shoots instead. When I try to set up plays, Jax ignores them.
By the end of practice, Coach is red-faced and furious.
He pulls the three of us aside. “What the hell is going on?”
None of us answer.
“I asked you a question.”
“We’re working through some stuff,” I say finally.
“Work through it faster. We have a game in six hours, and you three look like you’ve never played together before.”
“Maybe you should break up the line,” Jax says.
Coach stares at him. “Excuse me?”
“If we’re not working, change it up.”
“I’m not breaking up my top line two weeks before playoffs because you’re having a bad day.”
“It’s not just a bad day—”