Page 22 of Devil on Skates

XAVIER

THE BACK ENTRANCE TO the arena stays empty. Minutes turn into an hour, and my texts to Irina go unanswered. Each unread message tightens the knot that’s formed in my chest. This isn’t like her at all. Where is she? Is something wrong?

Eventually, I give up waiting and start checking every exit, scanning the crowd for her. But she’s nowhere in sight. It’s as if she just disappeared into thin air, leaving behind nothing but this gnawing anxiety.

When I finally get back to my dorm, the sinking feeling in my stomach gets worse.

Her stuff and everything she brought with her after she left her dad’s place is gone.

The textbooks on my desk, the extra toothbrush in the bathroom, the hoodie she borrowed that actually looked better on her. .. All of it just vanished.

No note. No goodbye.

I call her again, but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Irina, where are you? What’s going on? Please just tell me you’re okay. Whatever happened, we can figure it out. Just call me.” The desperation in my voice would usually embarrass me, but right now, it feels like it barely scratches the surface of how panicked I actually am.

She wouldn’t have left me because I ruined my chances today, right? Whether I go pro or not has nothing to do with how she feels about me. Or at least I hope so.

Fuck!

I rake my hand through my hair. What if something happened to her?

I check the news, but there’s nothing about any accidents or anything.

Every hour brings another unanswered message and another fruitless search of places where we’d been together, my hope getting crushed when a phone notification turns out to be someone else.

No one I contact has seen her after the game.

A text from my dad pops up.

Fix this or I’ll disown you.

Earlier, the message would get me worried. But now? It’s just background noise compared to the hole that Irina’s disappearance left inside me.

Morning comes, and I go all the way to her campus. Her usual study spots are taken by strangers, and her classes are full of people who know me from hockey but don’t know where she’s been.

In the afternoon, I’m about to do something I never thought I would and go straight to her dad’s house when my phone buzzes.

It’s a new social media post from Irina. Her account that was quiet for weeks is suddenly active. When my gaze falls on the image she put up, my eyes widen, my breath getting knocked out of me. She’s smiling next to Keith, his arm casually draped over her shoulder.

Back together. Some connections are worth second chances.

It’s what it says in the caption. I stare at it, trying to figure out if it’s real or fake. They’re in some fancy restaurant, enjoying their meal and looking like one of those annoyingly perfect couples.

For a few moments I just blink, unsure what’s happening. But then heat surges through my chest, my hands balling into fists, and all I can hear is the rush of blood in my ears. Without really thinking, I go back to my own campus.

Once there, I head straight to the area where Keith’s dorm room—that’s actually a luxury suite—is.

I have to sneak past the security and find the information about his room, but once I get to his door, I don’t hesitate. I bang hard enough to make the door rattle.

He opens it with an annoyed look on his face. “What are you—?”

I push past him, scanning the room for any sign of Irina. She’s nowhere in sight, and her things aren’t here either.

“Where is she?” I demand.

Keith calmly shuts the door, as if he’s got all the power here. “I’m calling security if you don’t leave right now.”

“Where. Is. Irina?” I say it slowly, making sure my tone shows just how serious I am.

“Why do you care?”

I grab him by the collar of his shirt, shoving him against the wall. “What did you do to her? How’d you make her come back to you?”

“I didn’t do anything,” he says, fear flickering in his eyes. “She came back on her own and said she made a mistake. I thought she told you.”

None of what he’s saying fits the Irina I know. She’s been so sure about what she doesn’t want, so this sudden change doesn’t add up.

“I don’t believe you,” I snarl, tightening my grip.

Before he can say anything, security bursts through the door, pulling me away from him.

“If you hurt her,” I shout as they drag me away, “I swear I’ll make you pay!”

Keith straightens his collar as if this is all beneath him. “Get help, Gallagher. This obsession’s not healthy. She chose me. Get over it.”

The door shuts on his smug face as they escort me out. Their warnings about trespassing fade behind the roar of anger and fear in my head. None of this makes sense. Nothing lines up with the Irina I thought I knew.

But her stuff is gone from my room and she posted that image of her with Keith. She’s vanished from my life without a word and left me wondering if I did something wrong.

DAYS PASS BY, AND I try every way to reach her, but she blocks or ignores all my calls, messages, and emails.

I can’t sleep and I can barely focus. The hockey suspension I was worried about doesn’t even matter to me, since it’s overshadowed by the bigger mystery. What happened to Irina and me?

If she changed her mind, why not say so?

If she went back to Keith by choice, why cut me out completely without an explanation?

Unless my dad was right all along and I imagined something real was there when Irina was actually only playing a game with me.

Maybe she thought I’d go pro and become rich, and then she could have it all.

What if everything about her was all an act, even though my brain doesn’t want to believe it?

She was supposed to be a challenge and a distraction. That’s how I told myself I’d handle it. But somewhere along the way, I let myself care. And now, I’m left with nothing but questions and regrets.

When sleep finally comes, it’s restless.

My dreams are filled with bits and pieces of us.

She laughs at my terrible music taste, listens carefully when I explain hockey strategies, and tells me all about her complicated relationship with her dad.

Those are supposed to be warm memories, but now they feel like none of it was real.

I shouldn’t have lowered my guard around her. Letting her in was a huge mistake, and she just decided to rip my heart out as if it all meant nothing to her.

My phone buzzes, and I almost hope it’s her with an explanation that makes sense.

But it’s not.

It’s her dad.

Your suspension’s been lifted. Come to practice tomorrow morning. We’re traveling this weekend. Some people have specifically requested you to be there. Be on your very best behavior.

Specifically requested me? I frown. Why would someone be pushing for me now, after everything that went down? Everyone who reported on that game labeled me as a difficult, hot-headed, and undisciplined player who’s too aggressive for no reason.

Under different circumstances, getting a message like this would mean I was getting a second chance and a shot to prove myself and turn things around.

But now it’s just a hollow consolation for what I’ve lost, if it’s even real and they haven’t mistaken me for another player.

Maybe they haven’t even heard about the game that got me suspended and the request was made before it.

I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but getting hockey back at least gives me something else to focus on aside from Irina.

And if this is an actual second chance for me, I’m going to play the best game of my college career. I’ll be disciplined in a way nobody expects after what happened. I’ll show Irina exactly what she walked away from without a word.

My dad was right. Caring makes you vulnerable and falling for someone is pointless, because even when you think it’s real, you end up hurt.

But now I have a purpose again. It’s messy and complicated, but it’s mine. I’ll take control where I can. No matter what happens, at least I’ll have the ice, where success depends on execution, not emotions.

I’ll find a way to make Irina and Keith pay. She’ll realize she made a huge mistake and that there’s no going back.