Chapter 23
KAI
It’s game day.
Travis Scott makes the locker room walls shudder and vibrate. The boys bob their heads along to the beat as they get into gear.
I reach for my jocks and pull them on with shaking hands.
I’ve put everything I’ve got into the last few practices leading up to this day. Pent-up anticipation rages inside of me now; I’m just restless and eager to get out there and snatch the first win of the season.
Luke snorts at something on his phone. “Guys! Guys! Check this out.”
He smacks Rowan and me on the arm, making us gather around his cubby to look at a photo his dad sent him.
Ron King squishes Aunt Edie and Uncle Manu into a group hug. The tension on my face cracks as I smile at their matching DHU Griffins merch.
After the boys and I moved to Vancouver for university, the three of them became close after realizing they had empty nests. Ever since first year, they’ve always come down from Surrey together to watch us play in the first game of the season.
“Aw, that’s amazing.” I nudge Luke’s shoulder. “Send that to me.”
“You got it, bro!”
My smile suddenly falls. Lurking in the corner behind Ron is a familiar neon green poster that shows my face caked in powder and smoke.
Panic swells in my chest until it swallows me up.
I shoot to my feet and shove my way to the washroom.
My eye twitches. I jerk the faucet on and scrub cold water over my face.
I do it again and again until my attention hitches onto the sound of water surging out of the tap and the painfully cold splashes sinking into my skin.
They tether and ground my thoughts back to reality.
But it’s like taming a pack of wolves with a string. They jerk at the restraints, trying to take control and break mine.
No matter how hard I work on the ice, I fucking hate that I fall apart at a single sign of my reputation being mocked and slandered.
An old therapist said it comes from a fear of never reaching my dream of playing for the NHL.
It’s such bullshit, though, because the greats have their reputations torn apart all the time.
If I can’t handle this now, how can I handle it later?
My grip tightens around the sink. I stare into the mirror, my attention drawn to the tattoo that trails all the way from my right shoulder down to my wrist. It sinks me back into a memory I’ll always cling onto.
“These tattoos are important to our culture, Kainoa. They tell the story of your lineage and your life path. Lolo didn’t just spend three hours listening to you talk about yourself for no reason.”
Eighteen and insecure, I look up at Uncle Manu for reassurance. He sits crisscrossed beside me while I lie back on a bamboo mat. Across from him, Lolo is preparing to ink my skin.
“Someday, your parents are gonna understand why you chose this route. Even if that never happens, I want you to stand tall in your convictions and never let anyone make you forget them.” He holds out his hand with a confidence I've always admired. “Soyez fiers jusqu'à la fin.”
Be proud until the end.
Those words awaken enough strength and courage for me to grin back at him.
I clap his hand in mine just as the needle comes over my skin.
“Soyez fiers jusqu'à la fin.”
My hand runs over the line of spearheads that symbolizes victory in battle, or in my case, victory on the ice; I trace the edges of the curved five-pronged symbol that represents Uncle Manu’s steady presence in my life, and I linger on the vivid black patterns set side to side, the gaps of unmarked skin looking like eyes peeking out.
It’s my favorite part of the whole tattoo because it renders a spirit that’s fuelled with good luck, giving power to the one wearing their mark.
All of it is woven together by bold, black shapes and rounded lines that trace the chronology of my life: My journey of venturing from the sea to the snow, deciding to go against the carefully laid path of business to play hockey in Canada, and the courage and determination six-year-old Kai had to make this decision.
“Hey, Kai!” Rowan shouts, “There’s someone here for you.”
A grin breaks across my face. I quickly put on the rest of my gear before I rush towards the main doors of the locker room.
Uncle Manu’s eyes light up when he sees me. He grins, revealing a row of knocked-out teeth.
“There he is!”
I crush him to my chest. Uncle Manu cackles and thumps my back. “You ready?”
“Always.”
“That’s my boy.” He ruffles a hand through my hair. Then, an earnest look comes over his face. “Remember, this is the first game, alright? Win or lose, you keep fighting, and you keep getting better. The only way is forward.”
I nod, smiling a little. “I won’t forget that, tonton.”
His grin softens. Then he takes my helmet and places it over my head.
It doesn’t matter how many times he’s done this. It still feels like the first time I ever put on hockey gear and got on the ice.
Through my visor, I can see Uncle Manu’s eyes tearing up with pride as he hands me my hockey stick. Then he holds out his hand. I clap it tightly with mine. Our foreheads press together, and we whisper in unison, “Soyez fiers jusqu’à la fin.”
The crowd roars in my ears.
Adrenaline pumps harder in my blood as I follow the Griffins out of the tunnel and skate onto the ice for warm-up.
Glittering strobe lights swirl the Balfur Arena. DHU Griffins fans and Lakefield Vipers fans dominate the stands in a sea of maroon and red, and yellow and green.
“Fucking druggie!”
A bag of white powder knocks into my helmet. My anger spikes. I snap around just in time to see a grinning asshole in a Vipers jersey being dragged out by security.
Familiar laughter breaks out behind me. A blur of green and yellow flashes in the corner of my eye as Simon Valdis and the Vipers skate onto the ice.
“They finally let the mutt out of his cage, huh?”
Simon Valdis hated me the second I stepped onto the ice in first year. He hated the attention I got, the fact that I got drafted before he did, and he came at me whenever he could, taking away whatever he could.
Like a typical trust fund baby, Simon reaps all of his privilege from his dad, Matthias Valdis, the former legendary captain of the Winnipeg Narwhals.
Simon looks exactly like him during his glory days.
Standing six feet tall, his eyes are green as poison, his hair is curly and blond, and he flashes that signature shit-eating grin that’s bright with entitlement.
“You can snort that bag after we kick your ass.”
He knocks his stick into my chest, shoving me back from the center line. The urge to throw down my gloves rips through me. Rowan pulls me back.
“Hey, easy,” he warns. “Don’t give him what he wants.” His eyes darken at the jeering Vipers fans pounding at the plexiglass. “The shit they say defines them more than it defines us.”
All I want to do right now is define Simon’s face with my fist.
But fighting gets you thrown out of games in the NCAA, and I won’t let Simon rile me up before I have a chance to beat him.
I take a deep breath in. Rowan searches my face, eyes trained on me until I ease up and nod.
Vipers and Griffins gather at the center line for “O’Canada.”
I can feel every eye in the crowd rest on me. There used to be so many leis waving around to cheer me on. Now, there’s only one. Uncle Manu swings a lei in his hand. He stands so tall and proud beside Aunt Edie and Ron King, who wave their posters in support.
My anger dies under the hope unraveling in my heart.
And that’s when I see her.
Diana looks back at me from her seat above Uncle Manu. The cool air from the arena ripples through her wavy black hair. The strands drift against those sultry, long-lashed eyes and those red lips that smile at me.
Goddamn.
Seeing her show up like this after everything she’s been through pushes me to stay calm and focused. If Diana can still show her face after being ripped apart by everyone, then I can face Simon Valdis and win.
I want Diana to watch me win.
And she will.
DIANA
Cheers fire out across the arena when Kai strikes the puck towards the Griffins.
This Kai I’m watching is nothing like the one at the hockey club. He shows no teasing smiles. No slow, meandering movements.
The Kai I’m watching right now rips through the ice, brows furrowed with fierce, unrelenting focus. His skates kick up white dust as he charges past swarming players with the puck in possession.
He nears the net and shoots.
The goal horn blares.
I gasp, jumping to my feet with everyone else. Cowbells rattle, and hands bang against the plexiglass.
“That’s my nephew!” Uncle Manu shouts. He whirls around, and his eyes perk up at me. “Did you see that?”
“Yes, I did!” I laugh.
I’ve secretly watched Kai’s games on TV, but seeing him play in person is electrifying. He wears the same jersey as everyone else, yet his presence is much more commanding and arresting. On the ice, Kai is like a lightning bolt cutting through a swarm of clouds.
Desire unfurls and consumes me like wildfire.
Especially when Kai scores the winning goal.
“The DHU Griffins win!”
The goal horn fires off over and over. Vapor hisses down from the jumbotron. It plumes over the horde of screaming Griffins fans. I watch the team leap from the players’ bench and swarm into a group hug.
Kai pants hard, his smile beading with sweat. He looks over at the crowd until he finds me, and his smile deepens. His green eyes shimmer as he raises a brow and spreads his hands out.
Well?
I shyly glance away, biting my lip to hide the ridiculous smile threatening to split my face in two. I still feel his eyes on me. They roam over me, burning like a brand.
Eventually, the crowd dies down and everyone starts leaving the arena for the Wing and Flame.
“Hey, you!”
I grind to a stop. I look over my shoulder and see Uncle Manu waving at me.
“I just wanted to say thanks for taking that photo for us!”
“Oh, it’s no problem.” My smile softens. “I’m sure it made Kai very happy.”
Uncle Manu’s eyes light up. “You know my nephew?”
“We’re partners,” I reply.
Confusion crosses his face, making me gasp.
“For a project!” I scramble out. “We’re partners on a project.”
“Oh!” Uncle Manu shakes his head and chortles. “Well, good luck with that. I remember when Kainoa was a boy, he’d get distracted so easily. Instead of doing his homework, he’d glide his butt down the stairs. That’s why I call him petit bouc! Little goat! So restless that boy.”
Uncle Manu laughs with me, revealing a row of missing teeth that makes him look even more friendly and endearing.
He suddenly pauses. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”
I hesitate. For once, saying my name feels like a punishment.
“Diana Huang.”
I brace for the falling smile. The sudden excuse to leave. But Uncle Manu’s smile only burns brighter.
“Nice to meet you, Diana. You can call me Manu.”
Uncle Manu leaves the arena with two other adults in tow. I follow behind them before I sneak another glance at Kai. He’s tense and stiff as the reporters wrap up his interview. The moment the cameras are off, his eyes find mine again.
This time, they linger long enough to see my coat part under the cold air drifting into the arena. It reveals traces of my silk, scarlet slip dress. When I first got it, I couldn't stop imagining Kai’s fingers unhitching the straps from my shoulders.
Judging by the way his gaze darkens on my dress, I have a feeling he wants to take it off, too.