Page 43

Chapter 43

Olli

We win. Of course we do.

We make our way back to the locker room, and I’m not entirely sure how Nat’s gonna handle his Avery-jersey deception, but I quickly forget when I spot Sydney Taylor waiting outside the door.

The grin covers Syd’s entire face as her eyes skate from me to Nat. “You’re wearing Avery’s number.”

“It was the least I could do,” Nat grunts. “Felt kinda good to be out there without having to be . . . out there. Where is Avery?”

“Still in the stands.” Syd nibbles her lower lip, but when she and Nat exchange a weighted glance, I hear the words she doesn't say.

He doesn’t want anyone to see what happened.

“Hiding out,” Nat murmurs. Syd merely nods . . . and moves on.

“The people are calling for an unmasking,” she says. “My phone’s been blowing up.”

“The people are just going to have to live with disappointment.” Nat shakes his head, but the white of his smile leaks out from behind the mask. “Avery’s not going public.”

“I’ll do it,” I say, poking at my mask. “The people want a story? Let’s give them a story.”

“Really?” Syd’s smile blooms all over again, and I think that even if this weren’t something I needed to do—to unmask, come clean, be honest in the eyes of the people—I’d do it anyway, just to make this girl’s day .

Or maybe her career.

“Yeah. But I want to do it in front of the team,” I say. “So lemme go make sure nobody’s naked yet.”

She laughs. “You know I play hockey on a boys’ team, right?”

“Please, don’t tell me any more,” Nat groans.

I give him a solid pat on the shoulder and dip into the locker room to address my team.

“Listen up!” I shout over the noise, the music, the flying pieces of equipment. “We got a lady reporter coming in, and I’m about to make some big tragic emo speech, so everybody shut up for five minutes.”

They laugh and mock-jeer and Everton tries to give me a noogie, but then they quiet down and Syd comes in and suddenly I’m standing in the middle of the room with every single person watching—

And I’m looking into the small black rectangle in Syd’s hand, knowing the whole world is watching too.

“Hey there,” I say, because I’ll be awkward as hell till my dying day. “So, um. Yeah. This is gonna be a weird speech, but let’s start with the thing you all really want.”

My fingers tangle into my mask, and I lift the cloth up. “Whoever guessed Olli James for Number Twenty-Three . . . You win!”

Everybody laughs. I don’t think anybody on this team would’ve been fooled, even if I hadn’t fessed up to it. They know me pretty well, I’m realizing.

“Anyway, on to more serious matters.” I soften into sobriety. “I came to Day River to play as captain for the Dingoes, and it’s my hope that I can help take this team to the playoffs. But more than that, my dream is that I can help revive this team for you too. Because every town deserves something to root for—win, lose, or draw.”

My throat goes dry. I almost ask for a water bottle, but remember I’m on camera and everyone’s watching and attention is just so limited these days.

We all got ADHD popcorn brain .

“I’ll be honest with you, though. Some days, I skate good. I give it my everything and support my team and maybe that makes me easy to cheer for. But other days—” I pause to pull in a few calming breaths. “Other days, it’s not so easy. Some of you know that I’ve been traded around a lot in my career. Usually, my coaches cite inconsistency or unreliability.”

My words catch again, and my eyes sweep through the small crowd gathered around me, watching with patient, rapt attention. But when my gaze lifts to the man in the corner, his mask rolled up to let his black hair slip down around his face, that’s when I find the courage to keep talking.

“I’ve had depression and anxiety most of my life,” I say, and the words are like a weight off my chest. “I go to therapy on a weekly basis. I’ve tried different medications in the past, but ultimately have opted for med-free routes for the sake of my game. And that means . . . Yeah. Sometimes I’m inconsistent. Some days, I can’t show up like I want to. Some days, I can’t get out of bed.

“But I know—and I want everyone in this locker room to know, I want everyone watching right now to know—that I’m always gonna come back. Always. That the dark days aren’t forever. That there is always light at the end of the tunnel.”

My gaze fixes on Nat.

“And sometimes, it’s okay to ask for help. To let someone else be your light when you see only darkness.”

“Damn,” someone murmurs from the bench.

“Um, yeah. That’s all. I also write really emo poetry, so there’s that.” I rub a hand over the back of my neck, grin awkwardly at the camera—full-on Olli mode again. “And I’m the most awkward person ever. The end?”

Andy Everton stands up. And he claps. Slow at first, and then Skyler’s beside him, clapping. And Holls. And Dev. Slowly, the rest of the team climbs to its feet around them, clapping .

All of them, clapping. And Syd’s grinning behind the camera, giving me a thumbs-up. And even Nat’s smiling. Wide and white and beautiful.

And in this moment, I think I am exactly where I’m supposed to be. In this league, in this town, in this game, with this team. In front of this camera, showing the whole world exactly who I am—all my broken pieces aligned.

And I think, at least for now, maybe this team is my dream. Because while it’s great to reach for the stars, at the end of the day, you gotta love what’s gonna love you back.

You gotta love where you are, right now.