Page 6

Chapter

Four

JONAS

Mom: We’re cheering for you and watching online! So proud!

Dad: Good luck tonight. Hope you have a great season, son.

I play “How Far I’ll Go,” from Moana to get the hockey team hyped up before we hit the ice. It’s a new tradition, but it’s mandatory. Athletes are superstitious.

I was feeling anxious last year, and I read an interview from a professional baseball player saying he listened to the Moana soundtrack to get ready before games.

I have four sisters, so I’m no stranger to Disney princesses.

I tried it and liked it. I ended up recommending it to Cooper, another one of my roommates and friends, when he was in a slump over his girlfriend.

He played it for the team and we won the National Championship.

So now we listen before every game. We can’t mess with a routine that works. Plus, it’s excellent hype music.

But not even Moana can get me out of my head about hockey.

I used to love this game. The first time I picked up a stick at a firefighter event with my dad, I was hooked, no pun intended.

I begged for skates and lessons. With only one son and four daughters, my dad was excited to dive into an activity that didn’t involve sequins and ballet shoes.

We’d catch Blackhawks games every chance we’d get, and I was on the ice as much as possible.

My high school didn’t have a team, but I played in a community league. I never expected a college scholarship for it, but when Harrison offered, I jumped at the opportunity. Out-of-state tuition at a school like this? It lifted a huge burden off my parents.

Who would have thought I’d have the opportunity to make a career out of it?

A life in the NHL is so far removed from the blue-collar world I live in.

It could solve so many problems—no worries about car or house payment for myself or my parents, enough money to figure out future care for my sister if she needs it. It could open a lot of doors.

“Scouts out there today,” Cooper says, clapping me on the shoulder. My stomach churns at the thought, but his hazel eyes dance with excitement.

Cooper hasn’t been drafted, but he’s hoping a team signs him anyway. He and Hunter are leaders this year, and they both deserve all the attention. He’s a great player and he’s worthy of a NHL contract.

So I nod and strap on my helmet. “I’ll do my best to make you look good.”

“Nah.” He taps his stick against mine as we file out of the locker room. “Just help us get the win. Whatever’s best for the team.”

The thing is, he means it.

Hunter calls everyone to center ice for a huddle and gives a stirring pep talk.

At least I assume that’s what he does—I kinda zone out.

I can’t help sizing up the scouts, sitting behind our bench.

They all wear hats and windbreakers emblazoned with their respective NHL teams—the Blackhawks, the Red Wings, the Avalanche, the Kraken.

We’re a fantastic team, coming off a championship win last year.

Of course they are here to check us out.

But it makes my skin itchy and tight beneath my gear.

They keep their gazes trained on us and I can’t shake off the feeling of being watched.

I try to focus on Hunter’s rousing speech—it bothers him we aren’t off to the strongest start.

He’s pretty intense about hockey, but that makes sense because his dad played in the NHL. He can’t avoid it.

On the bench, Evan elbows me. “Dude, are you seeing this?”

I look up. Hunter’s dad is at the game. His face covers the Jumbotron, grinning and waving to the crowd. The team’s administration makes a big announcement, revealing they are naming the arena after him.

“Uh-oh.”

We gaze down the row at Hunter. Based on his frown, he isn’t thrilled with this news. But when he realizes he’s on the Jumbotron, he pulls it together and fixes his face into something kinda like a smile.

I crane my neck, scanning the crowd. Is Hadley here? Maybe with their dad? I’m just curious, obviously.

My eyes stop. I spot her long curtain of blonde hair draped over one shoulder. She wears a Harrison Hockey jersey that I’m sure has her brother’s number and their last name on the back. Makes sense.

“Good luck.” Evan and I tap our sticks together in lieu of a high five. I file onto the ice with the rest of my line. But my mind’s still on the crowd. On one particular woman in the crowd.

What would it feel like if she was wearing my jersey instead of Hunter’s? A little thrill runs down my spine.

I shake it off and focus on the expression on her face.

She’s not sitting with her dad—he’s near the boards with the team bigwigs—and she’s in the student section with Cooper’s girlfriend, Jasmine.

She’s as blown away as Hunter, but there’s also hurt in her eyes.

Jasmine must notice because she puts her arm around Hadley’s shoulder and hugs her.

Huh. I wonder?—

The ref’s whistle interrupts my musing. It’s time to focus.

Cooper kicks the puck out of the faceoff to me, and I fly down the ice. The Bemidji State goalie looms out in front of the net—so far that I have an idea.

Mateo skates up on my left and sees it, too. I pass to him, he circles the net and sneaks it past the goalie. The siren blares, the red lamp goes off, and the fans go crazy.

Mateo grins so wide it must hurt his cheeks. He pounds me on the back in his excitement, and I smile back. It helps even the score, and I’m pleased for him, pleased for my team.

The PA announcer credits Mateo with the goal and me with the assist. Pride fills my chest. The scouts are all jotting down thoughts in little notebooks or on their phones, and my mouth goes dry. Nerves jump in my belly.

I glance back towards Jasmine and Hadley in the stands. She gives me a tiny smile, and my heart leaps. She blinks, staring at her feet, and brushes something off her jersey. The moment passes, but the warmth in my chest lingers. It helps reorient me.

Why does a smirk and eye contact with Hadley fill me with more joy than my prospects on the ice?

I don’t know. As I skate back to the bench, I catch sight of Hunter again. His mouth forms a straight line, his shoulders are tense. Clearly, he’s feeling pressure as Captain and having his dad watching probably isn’t helping.

The least I can do is stop obsessing over his baby sister.

Blowing out a breath, I exit the locker room. We lost, two to three. It’s okay, still early in the season, but the mood after the game is tense and grumpy. I scan the crowd milling around in the hallway, but I don’t know why. The familiar faces I want to see aren’t here.

Normally my parents would make it for the home opener, but Emma had an appointment they couldn’t miss. I’m not jealous, but if I’m being honest, I’m a little more disappointed than I expected. They’ll come see me play soon enough, I tell myself.

My eye catches on Hadley. Wearing her brother’s hockey jersey, she weaves through the clumps of people until she stands in front of me. Her blonde hair is in waves under a Harrison stocking cap and her ripped jeans showcase her curves.

“Hi.” Her voice comes out scratchy, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “Good game.”

“Eh.” I shrug. “Would have been better if we won.”

“Yeah, but you and Mateo had that nice goal in the first.”

“Thanks.”

She bites her bottom lip, eyes brimming with emotion. Is she okay?

“Hey.” I take a step closer to her, putting my hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?”

But I catch sight of Hunter, running a hand through his hair and talking with his dad and Mr. Harrogate, one of the college athletics bigwigs. His fist is clenched at his side, there’s a line between his eyes, and his posture is tense. He listens, then shoulders his bag and stalks off.

Remember how you decided you’d stop thinking about Hadley all the time? Yeah, maybe you should focus on your friend, instead. You know—your captain and her brother!

Ugh, I hate it when my inner voice is right.