Page 12

Chapter

Ten

JONAS

Emma: How’s hockey?

Jonas: It’s good. How are you?

Emma: I’m okay. I wish you were at home.

Jonas: Maybe you guys can come visit soon? I’ll ask Mom.

Emma: Thanks.

Gripping my stick through my gloves, I watch my team on the ice and wait for the line change, when it will be time for me to hop over the boards and jump into the action.

It’s the start of the third period and we trail Penn State three to two.

Cooper and I each scored a goal earlier tonight, and it should make me feel solid, elated, even, but all I can sense are eyes on me.

The crowd doesn’t usually bother me, but tonight I can’t shake the pressure from the scouts sitting behind all the college bigwigs.

Hunter might be feeling the same way. He’s a great player, but he’s off his game tonight.

It’s the big ceremony to rename the arena after his dad.

Is it getting in his head? I don’t know all the particulars of their relationship, but they aren’t close.

He’s making sloppy passes and skating a hair behind everyone else.

I don’t want Coach Russell to put me in for him, but I’m also paying attention in case he decides to mix up the lines.

The puck drops, and Cooper wins the faceoff.

He takes it down the ice, passing to Evan.

Mateo tenses next to me as Evan circles behind the goalie and sends it back to Cooper, who sneaks it into the net.

The red light spins, the siren wails, and the crowd goes wild.

I exhale, relaxing a bit, and Mateo pounds me on the back. I love watching my team be successful.

On the next play, the Nittany Lions get the puck, but with a flick of his wrist, Evan snatches it away. He reverses direction and heads towards the goal. He shoots and?—

Shit, shit, shit. Hunter goes down on the ice, his leg wrenched behind him at an unnatural angle. My throat clogs with anxiety. Play stops, and the stadium goes silent as the trainers rush out to check on him.

“Kaminski!” Coach yells my name and snaps me out of my trance. I glance over at him and meet his worried gaze. “I need you on that line.”

Nodding, I try to pretend to be fine. But my palms sweat inside my gloves and my stomach roils as my friend leaves on a stretcher.

Hunter is out of the game, maybe out for a while based on his leg.

I couldn’t examine anything up close, but it didn’t seem like an injury he’d bounce back from quickly.

I itch to be with the trainers, to help stabilize him, reassure him, fix his body and ease his pain.

Searching the stands, I find Hadley standing by Natalie, Hunter’s girl. They clutch hands and share matching expressions of panic and fear.

I crane my head and find Hunter and Hadley’s dad on the other side of the stadium, a frown on his face.

Coach squeezes my shoulder, I shake off all these distractions and hop out onto the ice with Cooper and Evan, taking Hunter’s place. It feels wrong to be playing a game when the medical staff is doing important work. I hate it, but what choice do I have?

After the game, I’m shocked the team administration doesn’t announce they are canceling the dedication party. Everyone should be rushing to the hospital to be there for Hunter—especially his dad—and instead we’re putting on suits and ties to celebrate.

The dedication gala is in the arena atrium, which works because this part of the building doesn’t look much like a hockey rink.

The ceiling is high with skylights to let in natural light.

They set up a bar at one end of the space and a stage on the other, to effectively define it. Tables are dotted between the two.

Before we hit the ice tonight, Coach gave his speech about how we need to remember we are representing the college, be on our best behavior, etcetera.

I’ve heard it many times before. So all the players are here, standing awkwardly around the perimeter.

College administrators, bigwigs, and donors are also in attendance, with Mr. Thompson in the middle of it all, grinning and shaking hands.

I tug on my collar as Evan walks up to me. “This sucks.”

“It really does, man.”

“Do you think Hunter will be okay?”

“Okay? Yes.” But I know he’s asking more than that. “But he might be out for a while.”

“Shit.” Evan shakes his head, and I know exactly how he feels. Hunter is our captain, friend, and the backbone of our team. We need him, but beyond that, I don’t want to do this without him.

Still clad in her Griffins hockey jersey, Hadley rushes to me and grabs my arm. Her blonde hair is piled haphazardly on top of her head. Tension coils in her body.

“Have you guys heard anything about Hunter’s condition? I’ve been trying to find out—I can’t get the team to tell me anything.”

Evan and I shake our heads, and her bright blue eyes fill with tears. She hurries to brush them away, but her voice is rough when she adds, “And my dad doesn’t care, he insists this show must go on. But I can’t stay here.”

My heart cracks in my chest at her words. I want to wrap my arms around her and hold her, stroke her hair and tell her everything will be okay. Anything to stop the panic that is flowing out from her. She continues talking so fast she’s stumbling over what she’s saying.

“I need to get an Uber, head to the hospital.” She waves her phone, showing the ride sharing service.

But I put my hand over hers on the screen. “Hey, I’ll take you.”

She bites her lip. “You don’t have to do that. I know you need to be here.”

“But you shouldn’t have to sit in the hospital by yourself. I’ll drive.”

I turn to Evan, and he claps me on the shoulder. His gaze, usually full of jokes and laughter, is serious. “Text me, okay? And stay safe.”

He glances at Hadley, and I’m pretty sure he knows more is going on beneath the surface. But he doesn’t bring it up, only says, “Go. I’ll cover with Coach.”

“Thanks, Ev.” Turning away from him, I’m already loosening my tie and following Hadley. She’s practically running, but I catch her and grab her hand. “Wait. Can I change first?”

Hesitating, she looks me up and down, and I add, “I promise I’ll be fast. But I’d like to get out of this suit, if possible.”

“Okay, but be quick.”

Leaving her outside the locker room, I hustle and throw on my street clothes—a pair of gray sweatpants and a Harrison hockey hoodie. The arena is across the road from Hockey Hall, where my Jeep is parked. So in less than five minutes, we’re in my car and on the way to the hospital.

Hadley radiates nervous energy, and I wish there was something more I could do to help.

As if she can hear my thoughts, Hadley gazes over at me. “Thanks for this. I felt so powerless.” She sniffles. “At least this way, we’re doing something.”

I don’t want to overstep, but I reach out and grab her fingers. “I understand. Watching Hunter go down on the ice, knowing there was nothing I could do to help—” My voice breaks and I stop and clear my throat. “I hate that feeling.”

Hadley squeezes my palm, then drops my hand like the contact burned her.

“I’m dating someone,” she says, words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, it’s not serious. I’m not even sure we’re exclusive. It’s not a big deal. But—I wouldn’t want you to think—to get the wrong idea?—”

“You made it clear where things stand between us,” I cut her off, my voice more gruff than I intended. “And I’d do this for any friend in need.”

The pinched cast to her features relaxes slightly, and her chest rises and falls in a deep breath. Her revelation stings, but I mean what I say.

Something occurs to me, and this probably makes me a jerk, but I ask anyway. “Hadley, no offense but… where’s this guy? Why isn’t he here with you?”

Instead of getting upset, she sighs and pleats her fingers in the hem of her jersey. “I didn’t invite him tonight.”

“Oh.” What is there to say to that? “Um, why not?”

“Like I said, it’s not serious between us. I didn’t think it was worth it to introduce him to my dad and Hunter. They don’t know I’m dating someone, and they automatically won’t approve. Why bother with it, when he’s not sticking around?”

She’s sharing freely, so I push it a little. “Why won’t he stick around?”

Is it because he’s not into her? Or intimidated by her family? Because he definitely doesn’t sound good enough for her, and?—

“Because I’m going to break up with him. I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” She swallows. “It’s not working out.”

I’m hit with a mix of feelings—pity for this guy, because losing Hadley would suck. Jealousy he’s with her, even briefly, despite that I learned about it seconds ago. And weird elation for me, because it’s ending. Which is dumb, because it’s not like I have a chance.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, pulling into the hospital parking lot.

Hadley shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

I want to get the full story but now is probably not the time. After getting out of the car, I follow her through the automatic doors into the hospital lobby.

The receptionist behind the desk is an older lady with gray hair and a green cardigan wrapped around her pump body. Her nametag reads “Ethel.” She gives Hadley and me a warm smile and adjusts her glasses. “How may I help you?”

“Hi. My brother was just brought in, he’s a hockey player from the college. I don’t know what room he’s in or anything, but can you tell us his condition?” She trails off as Ethel shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, dear, but I can’t give out that information.”

Hadley’s face falls and her shoulders slump, but I have an idea.

“Can you tell us his room number? That doesn’t violate the HIPPA laws, right?” The receptionist nods, handing us a yellow Post-It, and I nudge Hadley. “As far as getting information on his condition, what if a parent verified she’s family and allowed to know that?”

Ethel tilts her chin, clearly thinking about it, and Hadley perks up. “Yeah, what if I called my dad? I’m sure he signed all those forms for Hunter, he could give consent?”