Page 4

Chapter 4

ZACK

I drag my feet on the way home after practice, lagging behind the other guys on our way back to our condos. It’s a reasonably short walk, and usually I like the chance to get some fresh air after practicing inside all day. But today, I know my empty apartment is the only thing waiting for me, and the further I get from the rink, the more my thoughts run wild.

Amber hasn’t left my mind since the moment she showed up at practice. Seeing her up close while that Dr. Stone guy tried to pick apart my brain was almost too much. A part of me wanted to spill my guts to her, but I couldn’t even look at her. I knew if I did, there would be no going back.

Back at my place, I toss a prepped meal in the microwave. Jason’s the one who got me into meal prepping last season. I used to live on frozen burritos and protein bars. Now I cook once a week and eat like I’ve got it together. At least it helps during preseason. Once the schedule heats up, that’s another story.

I sit on the couch poking at my chicken and rice, but my appetite’s shot. All I can think about is Amber. We didn’t even talk today, not directly. Still, I’m already looking forward to tomorrow’s practice just for the chance to see her again. It’s pathetic. I should be focusing on hockey. Not her.

But she’s not going anywhere. The league sent her. Unless something big happens, she’ll be around for at least two months. Might as well get used to it.

I shower quickly and throw something mindless on the TV, hoping it will distract me. It doesn’t. I keep replaying the conversation in the psychologists’ office, the way Amber’s hands never stopped moving over her keyboard as she wrote down God knows what about my behavior.

I don’t think I gave them much to work with, but she used to be able to read me like a book. I wonder if that’s changed, or if she can still see every emotion I want to hide–plain on my face.

Soon, I give up on the TV show and head to bed, scrolling through social media until my eyes get heavy. I roll over and close my eyes, but all I can see is Amber’s face.

We were stupid in love. The kind of love only high school kids think will last forever. I was starting my senior year, buried in school, a job, and trying to land a hockey scholarship.

Amber wanted the full high school fantasy—Homecoming, court nominations, slow dances. But I didn’t have time for that. Hockey was my ticket out, and if I missed that shot, there wasn’t going to be another.

Coach told me to focus: no distractions. So I ended it with Amber when an "invitation only" tournament came up in Wisconsin the same weekend as Homecoming. I didn't have a choice. I had to go to that tournament — it was a huge opportunity for my future. College and NHL scouts would be there.

Plus I thought I was doing the right thing. She deserved more than a boyfriend who couldn’t even guarantee a phone call or a homecoming date.

But to her, it just looked like I bailed.

Amber didn’t see things the way I did. She expected me to be able to balance everything perfectly, including being her Homecoming King.

Unlike me, she did have a choice though when she decided to write that vengeful article for the school newspaper criticizing athletes who prioritized their sport over everything else. Didn’t name names, but everyone knew she wrote it about me. It came out just a few days after I broke up with her. Even the scouts at the tournament heard about it.

It was a mess. I almost lost my scholarship offer until Coach backed my integrity up.

I know now that Amber didn't mean to tank my future, but that article — whether she realized it or not — called me out by name, without the letters on the page.

I lost Mike too—her brother, my best friend. He sided with her. Of course he did.

I still think about him sometimes. Wonder what he’s doing now?

But I need to figure out how I feel about Amber before I even think about reconnecting with Mike. And honestly, the wound was deep. I don’t know if I can forgive her. Or if I even want to. And where would I even begin if tried.

I have no idea what she’s thinking behind that poised, polished exterior. That brief flash of anger I saw made me think there might be something there, hiding under the surface. But her walls went right back up, and now I’m second-guessing if there was anything there at all.

Despite our past with all of its pain and hurt, seeing her now feels different. I can't deny the sizzling attraction I have for her…and I think she just might be feeling it, too.

Dangerous on so many levels.

Well, I’ve managed to build my own walls pretty high, too. I guess I’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings.

My alarm goes off at 7:30 A.M., the same time it always does, but today it feels too early. I drag myself out of bed and make myself coffee and breakfast before heading to the rink.

Preseason practices are more grueling than midseason ones. We have the time and space to push ourselves harder without needing to worry about being in tip-top shape for a game the next day. Coach Green always says that the team’s preseason is what makes their season, and after a few years on his team, I believe him. Last year, our preseason was rushed, with a couple of late additions to the roster. And sure enough, we paid for it later. First up, I hit the gym.

I’m never the first one to arrive at practice, and I nod at the other guys as I get set up with my water bottle and towel on a treadmill. My plan is to warm up with some cardio, get the blood pumping and wake me up a little bit before moving on to the weights.

I keep cranking up the speed on the treadmill, hoping the pounding of my feet will drown out my mind. But then the rhythm starts to echo my thoughts, and I hear Am-ber, Am-ber, Am-ber with every stride. So I quit the treadmill and attack the free weights instead.

Counting bicep curls helps a little, but the burn in my muscles distracts me the most. I load up the barbell with an extra few pounds, and Coach Dillon, our strength trainer, shoots me a look, but doesn’t stop me.

Blake, however, is not one to keep his mouth shut. “Dang, Zack. You must have eaten your Wheaties this morning.”

“Something like that.” I snicker. If only it was just Wheaties that’s got me so amped up.

I huff through the end of my set and let my arms fall.