Chapter 8
Sebastian
Something big was about to happen; I could feel it in my bones.
If the video of Grace’s speech circulating around campus wasn’t warning enough, being contacted by the Dallard Spectator was all the confirmation I needed—the gala was just the beginning.
I had my suspicions that the girls were gunning for a share of our training facility, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.
Not when my entire future relied on my hockey performance over the next seven months, and not when Grace was already distracting enough from a distance.
“I want to make this clear.” My voice echoed over the low hum of chatter in the locker room, silencing my teammates as they prepared for morning classes. “Not a single person on this team is to speak to anyone from the student newspaper. Not a single comment.”
The crowd of familiar faces nodded in agreement. No one dared speak against my order. As the room cleared out, Bryce stayed behind to talk with me.
“Do you think Coach should know about the social media stuff?” he asked.
I shook my head. “It’s not out of hand yet. I don’t want to worry him over nothing.”
“Have you heard from Kate?”
Bryce was the only person I had told about our fight.
He was the only person to notice that something had been off with me since the gala.
Kate and I hadn’t spoken in almost four days, and I was feeling more and more confused about the situation the longer we went without talking.
Sometimes I reached for my phone out of instinct, ready to text Kate about something that had happened during my day.
But it was also impossible to ignore the relief of not having to explain myself after practice ran long or homework got in the way of our plans to hang out.
“She hasn’t contacted me.” I hesitated, then said, “Do you think I should reach out? She said she needed time, but now I’m wondering if giving her so much space was the wrong move.”
“Sometimes girls say the opposite of what they want. Maybe just send her a text to check in,” he suggested.
I secured my schoolbag over my shoulders and followed Bryce’s hulking form out of the locker room. He was probably right. Maybe Kate had said she needed time to think because she wanted to see me take the initiative with our relationship.
“Do you think—”
We’d just stepped outside the arena when Bryce came to a sudden halt.
I managed to stop myself before running directly into his back.
One glance around his shoulder confirmed the holdup.
Grace was hovering a few feet away, her brows set in a determined line.
She was waiting for me, I realized, drowning in a sweatshirt that was three sizes too large for her body, eyes wide as they connected with mine.
“I’ll meet you in the dining hall later,” I said to Bryce.
He glanced between the two of us with one brow quirked before nodding in agreement and sauntering off to get breakfast. Grace tensed as I approached her, and I couldn’t help but notice that her phone was hanging halfway out of the front of her pocket.
I resisted the urge to reach over and slide it back in place.
“I suppose this means you weren’t expelled,” I said.
“Did you get your hopes up?” She was sporting a devious grin, something halfway between playful and calculated, and that made me wonder what she was up to. Grace never sought me out.
“What do you want?” I asked calmly, feeling anything but.
“Honesty.”
I waited for her to continue, unwilling to play along with her little game.
“Don’t you think, as captain of the men’s hockey team, you’re responsible for commenting on the lack of equality between the men’s and women’s hockey programs?
The Dallard Spectator is going to publish an article about the issue either way.
I’m giving you the chance to get ahead of things,” she said, and I could smell the bullshit from a mile away.
“Leave me out of your little crusade, Grace. I’m not interested.”
“You’re against gender equality?”
My nostrils flared as I tried to keep my composure. “Of course not.”
“Then you just don’t care enough to advocate for your female counterparts, is that it? Or maybe you think we don’t deserve the same resources as you,” she continued, the fire behind her eyes burning a little brighter with every word.
There was a heat burning in my stomach, flames inching up my throat. Control, Sebastian. Find your control. “I don’t have any say in where you practice. Talk to the administration if you have a problem.”
“But you do have influence at this school. You could help our cause.” She leaned closer with every word, her brows set in a firm line. I would have felt amused by her determination if it wasn’t directed at me.
“I don’t have as much influence as you think,” I said through gritted teeth. Despite my recent success, I was still on thin ice with the dean. He was much too prideful a man to go back on his threats.
“All you have to do is say you stand with us. Is that so hard?”
“Why the hell do you need to drag me into this? Is it so wrong for me to want to protect our training time? You might like the idea of sharing DuLane now, but when both teams lose time on the ice, you’ll regret starting this war.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. The shift in Grace’s expression—from frustration to satisfaction—only confirmed my suspicions. She’d gotten a rise out of me, and that’s exactly what she’d wanted.
“This conversation is over,” I said, shoving past her. “Tell the student newspaper that we’re not interested in commenting.”
For once, I was the one fleeing the scene after one of our confrontations, and I felt like a wild animal retreating to lick its wounds.
An overwhelming sense of failure compelled me to reach for my phone and type out a message to the one person I knew would always support me—Kate.
It was wrong, but I was desperate for comfort.
Kate
Hi. I miss you
I get you need time to think, but I hate this silence
Stop torturing me
I’m sorry
Do you think that’s enough?
I hope so
I’m willing to grovel
. . . on your hands and knees?
Always
Tell me a time and place
I’m sorry. Please talk to me.
I’ll think about it
>> <<
The next day, I startled awake thirty minutes late, surprised to find that the sun was already starting to rise.
My bedroom was cold, and there were golden streaks of light leaking through the gap in my curtains.
I was blinking away the last remnants of sleep when my phone vibrated.
I reached for it, hoping to see a message from Kate, only to discover a screen full of notifications from my roommate group chat, the Zamboners.
Zamboners
Kent
Anyone been to campus yet?
Landon
Why would anyone be there this early?
Kent
There are posters everywhere.
Landon
So?
Bryce
Is this important enough to blow up the gc before 7 am?
Kent
Seb is gonna lose his shit, look
The next message was an image of the quad. There were pink and blue posters clinging to everything—the sides of the buildings, stapled to trees. They were even scattered across the ground.
Landon
I guess Grace wasn’t messing around.
Kent
Has anyone read the article?
Bryce
We need to notify Dawson
Landon
There’s an article???
Bishop has notifications silenced
Landon
Oh shit. There is definitely an article
Before I could type out a response, Bryce barged into my bedroom, a pink and blue poster clutched in his hand.
He held it out for my inspection, and my eyes grew wide at the familiar image of DuLane Arena set next to McKinley Rink.
At the very bottom was a QR code. My heartbeat increased to a rapid thrum as I scanned the code and pulled up the referenced article.
Immediately, I was met with the sight of my own face.
The photo was over a year old—one of the professional ones taken for the hockey web page.
Growing even more concerned, I began to read.
An Icy Injustice
by Margaret O’Neil
In a flurry of pink and blue posters, the Dallard University women’s hockey team has made a bold statement about gender inequality within the athletics department.
Despite the success of the women’s hockey program, which has brought home three national titles in the last ten years, DU continues to overlook female athletes in favor of their male counterparts.
While the men train at DuLane Arena, a recently renovated, state-of-the-art hockey facility, the women are forced to practice at a previously abandoned rink.
Several concerns about the facility have been communicated to the administration, but no actions have been taken to rectify the issue.
“DuLane Arena has two full-sized rinks, but only the men are allowed to utilize the training facility,” says Dena Jacobs, a senior on the women’s hockey team.
Another female player who requested to remain anonymous claims to have reached out to the men for their support, only to come up empty-handed.
Sebastian Evans, captain of the men’s hockey team, refused to make a comment, but in a recording provided to the Dallard Spectator, he can be heard saying, “Is it so wrong for me to want to protect our training time? You might like the idea of sharing DuLane now, but when both teams lose time on the ice, you’ll regret starting this war.
” To listen to the full recording, visit the Dallard Spectator website.
Red swamped my vision, making it nearly impossible for me to read on.
I closed out of the article with shaky hands and launched my phone at the bed.
I’d been right about Grace being up to no good, and instead of keeping a cool head, I’d played right into her hands.
She’d been recording me the whole time, that’s why her phone had been hanging out of her pocket so carelessly.
Fuck me.