18. Cassidy
Cassidy
The next two months are a blur.
The start of the hockey season swept Trenton into a whirlwind, and I’ve gone along for the ride.
When he’s not on the ice, we’re making love.
If he’s traveling, I’m writing.
Our schedules are color-coded, thanks to Celeste, and packed with important events.
But none of it compares to the pressure of tonight’s game.
Jersey City vs. Seattle.
Trenton faces his old team on their home turf, and to say that I’m nervous is an understatement.
Trent says it’s no big deal, but Celeste, Aarya, and I flew out in support nonetheless.
And maybe it’s not a big deal to him. Maybe he doesn’t care about seeing his old teammates because he’s happy in his new life, with his new team, and his new girlfriend.
But I know how much he wants to prove to the world that he’s not ready for retirement, and what better way than to stick it to the team who let him go?
The media has been dramatizing the rivalry between the ex-best friends. Journalists have rehashed every detail throughout the timeline of their friendship—regardless of whether they were facts or fabricated clickbait—to ramp up the conflict.
Several Seattle fans boo us as we take our seats, but I don’t bother to look in their direction.
I opted for floor seats behind Trenton’s goal as opposed to the cushy box seats.
I want to be as close to him as possible tonight.
I need him to feel my presence when he’s on the ice, and know that no matter what happens, I’m here for him.
“How did he sound when you talked to him earlier?” Celeste asks.
I hike a shoulder. “Fine. I think he just wants to get this game over with so everyone will shut up about it.”
She nods. “We’ll all be relieved when this is over. I just hope they win so we can give a big fuck you to Seattle.”
“They’ll win.” I lean back against my seat and blow out a long breath. “I know they will.”
The announcer crackles through the speakers as the spotlights dance around the stadium, and the crowd goes wild.
The Goldfinches skate onto the ice as they’re introduced, and I jump up to cheer as Trenton skates around his net. I press my palm against the glass and he taps it with his glove before taking his spot at the crease.
The sound in the stadium amplifies as the announcer introduces each of Seattle’s players. Adrenaline spikes in my veins as they skate in circles.
“That’s him,” Celeste shouts over the music, pointing to number seventeen. “David Petroski.”
Aarya holds up her middle finger. “Boo! You suck, Petroski.”
I snatch her hand and force it back down. “Dude, you’re going to get us into a fight.”
Celeste laughs beside me. “Trent will have to bail us out of jail after the game.”
“That’s the last thing we need.” I shake my head. “Could you imagine the headlines?”
Aarya nudges me with her shoulder. “Would make for a great scene in your book though.”
“I’m not looking for jail time, thank you.”
When the puck drops, all conversation is lost. We’re on the edge of our seats throughout the first period. Seattle is coming for blood, attempting shot after shot, but Trenton saves each one with ease. The period ends without any points on the scoreboard.
The game kicks up a notch in the second period. Players on both teams spend time in and out of the penalty box, and the checks are getting more aggressive. I cringe each time they’re slammed against the plexiglass.
Finally, Krum scores a goal. We cheer as loudly as we can, hoping the boys can hear us above the jeering crowd.
But that goal ignites a fire under Seattle.
Petroski flies across the ice, refusing to pass it to anyone. Stamos gets in his way to block him, but Petroski checks him so hard, he flies backward as if he stepped on a grenade.
Trenton hunkers down in position, bracing himself for whatever’s coming.
Petroski takes the puck around the back of the net. His lips move, and I can’t make out what he’s saying, but judging by Trenton’s menacing gaze as he whips around, I bet he can.
Petroski passes the puck but Krum intercepts, and takes it back down the ice. When he gets close enough to take the shot, one of the Seattle defensemen rides him into the boards and he loses the puck.
It’s a frenzy of sticks fighting to gain possession, but Petroski comes away with it once again.
“Fuck.” I jump to my feet. “Somebody stop him!”
Petroski gets so close, he looks like he’s playing chicken with Trenton. But he’s not watching where he’s going and he knocks into his own teammate who crashes into Trenton, sending the both of them crashing to the ice.
And then all hell breaks loose.
Seattle touched the goalie.
Both teams surround the goal, checking and shoving each other. Sticks and gloves slide across the ice as referees descend on the mosh pit, yanking players back to separate them.
Trenton gets up and rips off his helmet and gloves as he makes a beeline for Petroski. He shoves him back against the glass and pummels his face, landing shot after shot.
“Yes!” Aarya screams. “Beat his ass!”
One of the refs pulls Trenton off of Petroski, who’s face is now covered in blood.
I breathe a sigh of relief as it seems like everyone is cooling down. But Petroski lifts his stick and slams it into Trenton’s face.
Trenton’s body goes limp in the referee’s arms, and falls to the ice.
The crowd is silent, except for the sound of my scream.
Krum and McKinley kneel down beside Trenton, talking in his ear, but he doesn’t move. We wait for what feels like forever for the medics to bring out a stretcher. They roll him onto his back, and a pool of blood is left behind on the ice.
Aarya wraps her arms around me and Celeste holds my hand.
“Where are they taking him?” I ask, choking back a sob.
“The medical room.” Celeste’s thumbs move across her phone at lightning speed. “Let me find out what’s going on.”
Tears stream down my face as I sink into my seat.
“It’s going to be okay, babe.” Aarya smooths her palm over my back in small circles. “Deep breaths.”
Worst-case scenarios flash through my mind as the game continues with the backup goalie in Trenton’s place. I feel helpless, unable to go to him or be by his side.
“The medical staff is treating him now,” Celeste says. “I’m friends with one of them, so she’ll give us updates.”
“I just want to know if he’s okay.”
“He’s coherent and alert. Once they stop the bleeding over his eye, he should be able to get back in the game.”
My eyes widen as I lean over to read the texts on her screen. “Back in the game?”
“He’s not going to let Petroski take him out like that.” Celeste squeezes my knee. “He’s going to want to get back in there and finish the game.”
I hate to admit it, but I get it. I understand what he needs to do.
I just wish I could hold him.
At the start of the third period, Trenton skates back onto the ice. Relief floods me as I jump to my feet.
He skates past the net and skids to a stop in front of the plexiglass separating us.
“I love you,” he mouths.
I press both palms against the plastic. “I love you.”
Trenton stops every attempted goal, and Krum scores to secure a win by the end of the game.
2-1.
Eat shit, Petroski.
I pace the perimeter of the hotel room until Trenton shows up after the game.
I all but throw myself into his arms.
He smooths his hand over my hair as he holds me against his chest. “It’s okay, baby. I’m okay.”
I sniffle as I lift my head and cradle his face. “Let me look at you. Show me what happened.”
The skin around his eye is purple with a nice gash across his brow.
I gasp. “You shouldn’t have played after that hit. You should’ve gone to the hospital.”
He tugs my arm toward the bed and pulls me down onto the mattress with him. “Stop yelling at me and come snuggle me, woman.”
I curl around his body and rest my head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat.
“I’m sorry I scared you tonight.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s that asswipe Petroski’s fault.” My hands ball into fists. “I should’ve waited for him in the parking lot and backed my car into him.”
Trenton chuckles. “So much violence inside such a small person.”
“At least he got penalized for it. I hope getting tossed from the game and fined teaches him a lesson.”
Trenton rests his chin on the top of my head. “I’m just glad we won.”
“What was he saying to you? I saw his mouth moving but I couldn’t hear anything.”
“He said he’s down to share my new girlfriend since I let him have the last one.” His jaw works under his skin. “Said he could bend you over and show you a few things.”
“Piece of shit.” My nose scrunches in disgust. “He was just trying to get a reaction out of you. Next time someone makes a comment about me, don’t fight them, okay? It’s not worth it.”
He lifts my chin. “You’re worth everything.”