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Lennon

M urmurs skitter around the locker room like mice when I walk in. I wasn’t at practice yesterday due to Coach Maver’s order to rest, so this is the first time I’m seeing the entire team since the bus ride home Friday night. And in that time, clearly there has been a lot of talk.

About Luke’s blow up at Aubrey.

About him running on the ice after me.

About his noticeable absence in practice yesterday and again here today. Grace said Coach Maver told them all that he would no longer be here this weekend and that she didn’t want any questions. To keep their focus on the game ahead.

That’s worked for some, as they wear headphones and zone out to their pregame playlists, sitting still in their lockers. But most speak to each other in hushed voices, and I get more than a few sideways glances. There’s no hostility behind them, more so curiosity.

My skin feels too tight, like it’s not my own, but I keep my head up. And when I sit down at my own locker, a few of the girls immediately walk over.

Austen tosses me a roll of tape. “Well, good to see your reflexes still work.”

I chuckle and toss it back to her. “Still functioning.”

“How’s your head?” Charlotte asks.

“Good,” I say. “All good and ready to go today.”

“That was a gnarly hit,” Austen adds, pulling her hair up into a low ponytail. “Some of us tried to come find you Friday night at the hotel, but Coach Packley said to let you be.”

Thank god for that or else they would’ve found their other assistant coach in the bath with me. I school my facial expressions. “Yeah, I pretty much just slept the entire night and spent yesterday resting.”

They nod, and Austen nudges Aubrey’s shoulder. She sucks on her cheek before leveling her gaze on me. “I’m sorry about the hit,” she says, then winces when Austen pinches her. “I wasn’t paying attention and was too caught up in that Redhawks’ bitch chirping in my ear the entire breakaway…”

I wave her off. “Accidents happen.” I’m not angry at her for it. Yes, it was an avoidable hit, and if she would’ve kept a rein on her temper, it likely wouldn’t have ended up the way it did.

But I’m fine. I’m playing today, and that’s what matters most to me.

She chews on her fingernail, and I can tell she’s got more to say. I glance over at Grace, whose locker is next to my own, and she shakes her head, not knowing what’s up either.

Finally, Aubrey says, “Well I’m glad you’re handling it better than Coach Holloway did.”

My blood goes cold as my face grows hot at the mention of him.

“Yeah, did anyone tell you about how he screamed at me afterwards?” She arches an accusing brow at me, but there’s not necessarily malice behind it. If anything, she sounds a little…hurt.

I play with the end of my braid. “Yeah, I heard.” I don’t elaborate.

“And he hasn’t been around since then. Coach Maver said he’s not coming today, either. Do you know what happened?”

I feel not only the weight of their stares, but also those of everyone around listening. Suddenly the locker room has grown quiet, and even those who try to pretend like they’re busy lacing their skates or taping their sticks have their heads angled in our direction.

My mouth goes dry, and it hurts to swallow. I can’t tell them, even with Luke gone. I can’t admit anything that happened because I still need to keep Coach Maver from taking any action against him.

Go quietly , she told him.

He can’t do that if the entire team finds out we were together and the secret spreads like wildfire.

“How would she know what happened?” Grace cuts in. “She’s been sequestered away, recovering from your hit, since it happened on Friday.”

Aubrey narrows her eyes on Grace, but my best friend is unwavering.

“Plus, we have a title to win today. Are you really focused on a coach quitting over trying to get ready to play instead?”

“She’s right,” Austen murmurs. “We gotta get our heads in it. I don’t want a repeat of last year where we watch someone else’s colored confetti fall.”

Charlotte nods in agreement, and I see other teammates doing the same thing.

“You’re our captain,” I tell Aubrey. “We’re trusting you to lead us today. To focus us today.” Don’t push this , I say with my eyes.

Her jaw clicks, but finally she takes a step back and dips her head curtly. “Austen’s right. I don’t want a repeat of last year either. None of us do.”

An ascension of agreements ring out around the room, and while I know there will be more questions to come about me and Coach Holloway, it’s almost like a temporary truce is formed for our ultimate goal today. I heave a quiet sigh of relief as everyone gets back into their own routines and I’m allowed to start mine.

But then Grace leans over and steals my attention. “When this game is done and we’re back home,” she says, “you have a loooot of explaining to do.”

I nudge her shoulder gratefully. “I’ll get a few bottles of wine.”

“Perfect.” She smiles, and while I know I’m not off the hook for keeping this from her for months, I know we’ll be okay. “Now, we got a game to fucking win, and I’m hoping to ride the bench the entire way. So your ass better be ready.”

“It’s ready,” I chuckle as I get dressed for warm-ups. Just as it’s about time to head, I grab the mask I safely tucked in my bag this morning. I almost don’t even want to wear it because it’s so beautiful, so special, but I can’t resist.

I want this piece of him with me today.

When I pull it out of my bag and place it on my head, not fully down to cover my face just yet, Grace’s eyes widen as she notices.

“Is that new?”

“Yeah.” She motions for me to spin and I do, letting her take in the art on every side.

“That’s incredible,” she muses. Her fingers lightly brush over the fur of the husky. “When did you get it?”

“This morning. It was a gift.”

Grace pulls her hand back and gives me a drawl look. “Alright, you owe me a lot more than just a few bottles of wine.”

I pull the mask over my face before grabbing my stick. “If we win today, I’ll buy us whatever the hell we want.”

We walk down the tunnel side by side, and I ignore the pang Luke’s absence sends through my gut as I pass by Coach Maver and Packley.

Coach Maver gives me a curt nod and pats my shoulder. “Is your head in this?”

I know she’s not just talking about coming off of the hit.

“I promise it is.”

She purses her lips, but there’s a slight softening behind her eyes. I hate that she’s keeping Luke away from today and the slight resentment I feel toward her for it, but at the same time, I hate that I disappointed her. She’s ridden hard for me my entire hockey career at Haulton, and I don’t like this feeling between us.

“Later,” she cuts in. “We’ll talk later. Just focus on the game in front of you. Don’t panic. Trust in your team, and trust in yourself.”

I nod and roll out my shoulders, letting her familiar words of encouragement coat me like a set of armor.

“You’ve worked hard for this, Lennon. Rely on it. Block out last year, block out the crowd, and do what you came here to do. What you worked this entire year for.”

Adrenaline surges in my veins with each word, with the smell of the ice beckoning me near, with the energy of my teammates around me.

This is the last hockey game I’ll ever play. The one I’ve sacrificed my blood, sweat, and tears for. I’m not going to take a single moment of it for granted.

The announcers begin their intros as the bass builds up and shakes the arena. It’s time.

And when I step out onto the ice to the flashing lights and screaming crowd, I feel the weight of his eyes on me. Somewhere deep in my gut, I know he’s here. I won’t be able to find him in the crowd, and even if I could, I won’t risk Coach Maver spotting him, too.

So I keep my head down, steady my breathing, and remember everything he taught me.

Because both of my coaches are right.

I can do this.