Chapter 23
LEONORA
I hear footsteps. Skates on concrete. Then the door opens.
Tara’s voice is shrill. “You can’t be in here.”
“Is he okay?”
Zane.
He’s standing in the doorway, still in full gear, helmet under his arm. His face is pale. His eyes are wild.
He’s looking at me. I sit up on the table and swing my legs round.
He’s looking at the blood on my jersey on the floor - it looks dramatic. His eyes find my wound. Then he’s looking at my face - my actual face, without the helmet - without anything to hide behind.
His eyes drop to my chest. To the sports bra. To the shape of my body that the gear usually hides.
My arm comes up to cover my sports bra - as if that would conceal anything. As if it isn’t way too late.
I watch it happen. The confusion first. Then the processing. Then the pieces starting to click together in his head. The too-small frame. The separate locker room. And how he could never quite figure me out.
The girl from Halloween.
Nora.
“No,” he says quietly.
“I’m okay,” I say. My voice sounds odd. Weak.
He doesn’t move.
Tara steps between us. “She needs space. You need to leave.”
She. The word hangs in the air.
“No,” he repeats.
We won.
But I think I might have just lost everything else.
ZANE
I don’t remember skating off the ice.
I don’t remember the final buzzer, or the handshake line, or Mercer yelling something about the win. I don’t remember walking through the tunnel or down the concrete corridor or stopping in front of the medical room door.
I just… arrive.
My gear is still on. My skates are still on. My helmet is under my arm and I’m breathing hard and I don’t know why I’m here except that I had to know.
Had to see him.
Had to make sure he’s okay.
And then I see her.
“I need a minute,” I tell Tara. “Alone.”
Tara doesn’t move. Her eyes cut to the girl on the table.
“Leonora?” she asks, seeking permission.
The girl - Leonora - nods. Just once. Small.
Tara hesitates for half a second. Then she crosses to the door, brushes past me, and pulls it shut behind her.
We’re alone.
Just me and her and the bright lights and the blood drying on her skin.
I look at her.
Really look at her.
The blonde hair from Halloween is matted with sweat and blood. But the face is the same. The eyes are the same. The mouth that kissed me in the dark is the same.
She’s the girl from the porch. The girl from Halloween. The one who disappeared the next morning, leaving no way for me to contact her.
Lee Shaw.
My left wing. My teammate. The person I’ve been passing the puck to for weeks.
Lee and Nora.
I stare at her. She stares back. Neither of us moves.
Then I hear myself say it.
“Leonora. Holy shit.”
She flinches.
“Lee and Nora.” I hear the edge creeping into my voice. “I get it. Very clever. Funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be funny.” Her voice is quiet, cracked. “Zane-”
“You-” I step back. Run a hand through my hair. And then I laugh - not because anything about this is funny, but because it’s so completely insane that laughing is the only thing that comes out.
“You’re - all this time -”
“I can explain.”
“Explain?” The word comes out louder than I meant it to. “You slept with me. You let me-”
I stop.
Something shifts in my chest. A piece of the puzzle sliding into place that I didn’t want to see.
That night. Halloween. The way she looked at me. The way she kissed me. The way she left before I woke up.
“You knew.” My voice is different now. Quieter. “That night. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
She holds my gaze and I step back.
“So, what - this was a game?” I can hear the disbelief in my own voice. The hurt creeping in underneath the anger. “You wanted to see if you could - what? Seduce your teammate? See how far you could take it? Have a laugh that I didn’t recognize you?”
“No.” She shakes her head, quick and desperate. “God, no.”
She shifts on the table like she’s going to stand, to come closer - and I step back again.
I don’t want her near me right now. I don’t know what I want.
She stops. Stays where she is.
“Zane, I didn’t plan that. I didn’t plan any of this.” Her voice is breaking. “I just - I wanted one night where I wasn’t hiding. Where I was just - someone you wanted. Not Lee. Not the rookie. Just… me.”
Someone you wanted.
I’ve been looking for her for weeks.
Scanning the coffee shop and dining hall.
And she’s been right here on my team. Standing beside me on the ice like nothing had happened.
“I’ve been looking for you,” I say.
“I know.”
“And I’ve been talking to you every day. Playing with you. Trusting you on the ice.” My voice cracks. “And you just - let me?”
“What was I supposed to do?” Her eyes are wet now, tears spilling over despite her trying to hold them back. “Tell you? Risk everything? The team is finally winning. The scouts saw you tonight because we’re winning. If you knew - if anyone knew-”
“Stop.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t make this about the team.”
“It is about the team. It’s always been about the team. About hockey.” She wipes at her face with the back of her hand. “Zane, there’s no women’s team here. There’s nowhere for me to play. This was my only chance.”
“So you lied.”
“Yes.”
“For weeks.”
“Yes.”
“To everyone.”
“Yes.”
I shake my head. Run my hands through my hair again. Pace the small room because standing still feels impossible.
“I’m just supposed to be okay with this?”
“No.” She’s crying harder now. “I don’t expect you to be okay. I just - I need you to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That I didn’t do this to hurt you.” She meets my eyes. Holds them. “I did it because I love this game more than anything.”
The words hang in the air between us.
I stare at her. This girl who set me up for goals. Who danced with me in the dark and left before morning.
Who trusted me enough to come to my apartment but not enough to stay.
Who trusted me enough to be on my line, but not enough to tell me the truth.
“I need-” I pause. “I need to think.”
She doesn’t move. Just watches me with those eyes - full of tears and of something I can’t name.
I turn toward the door.
“Zane.”
Her voice makes me pause.
But I don’t turn around.
I walk out.
LEONORA
The door closes.
I’m alone.
The cut under my collarbone still stings. The blanket is still draped over my shoulders, but I feel colder than I’ve ever been.
I sit there for a long time.
Staring at the door.
But he’s gone.
And I don’t know if he’s ever coming back.