Page 39 of Penalty Box

“I could say the same about you.”

“She wears your jersey at home,” my dad said, breaking us up with perfect timing. My jaw dropped, and Hallie glared at him. “Brags to all her friends about you too.”

“The betrayal,” she said, folding her arms in a huff.

“Aww, little sis, you really brag about me?” She bit her lips to keep back her smile, and pretended to ignore me completely. “What about those girls on your doorstep? Get any numbers?”

This time she grinned wide and looked right at me. “Who said they were girls?”

“Damn. Okay. You got me.” I held up my hands in surrender. Then I looked at my dad and said, “Where did we get this one?”

“Same gutter we found you,” he replied, without missing a beat.

We all started laughing and I was just beginning to forget where I was, and what I was supposed to be doing, when—

“Calder! Ice!” Coach bellowed from the bench.

*

The Seattle Kraken had a rowdy fan base, whether home or away, and without winning much of anything. Their game was speed and unpredictability, peppered with wild passes and random aggression.

“We can’t afford to get cocky,” Grayson said to his top line.

Which included me.

“Calder,” he went on, “you’re not just filling space tonight. You’re setting tempo, so play smart and skate hard.”

“And don’t forget to slip your sister my number,” Tucker said, leaning over Shawn with his full weight.

Grayson, unmoved, looked at me, and said, “No distractions.”

I nodded and pulled on my helmet. “Let’s get ‘em.”

The first period was a brawl in slow motion. I had time to pick out my dad and Hallie in the crowd, and Cass up near the sound booth as always. The music playoffs were tied two-all on account of her spending more time with school stuff, and I loved how much it was getting to her.

“Heads up!” Grayson shouted as he skated past me, and we adjusted.

The Kraken realized their chaotic forecheck was somehow working, so we tightened our transitions and shut down the passing lane.

Still, their winger slipped past one of our guys with a cheap stick lift and sent a wrist shot right into Hunter’s chest. Fortunately, our goalie held firm.

By the time second period blew in, we’d found our rhythm. Grayson and I were clicking, and I kept looking up to see thatCoach was watching. He was. I could’ve told him this pairing was his Stanley Cup, but knew he had to see it in action to believe it.

Communication was seamless. I’d dip, Grayson would fill, or I’d screen, and he’d shoot. It was hockey the way it was supposed to feel… instinctive and alive.

Halfway through the period, I fed him a pass just above the circles. He didn’t hesitate. One-timer, top shelf. The horn blared, and the crowds went feral, including a rousing wave of boos from the Kraken fans.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Grayson skated straight into me, gloves ruffling my helmet.

We took the lead, and Coach didn’t pull me off the top line. Not once.

After the final buzzer, we poured into the tunnel, all talking at the same time, riding the wave of our first easy win. The rush had me in its grip, but it was more than the game. Cass and my family were out there, waiting for me.

I’d been thinking about it, and decided I’d introduce them tonight. No labels were necessary, but I didn’t want to have to choose.

I stripped out of my gear fast, towel-dried my hair, and was halfway into a clean T-shirt when Bob Trent cornered me. The head of the Surge marketing department looked like an overeager raccoon in a trash can.

“Hey, got a second?”