Page 92 of Switching Skates

He daps me up and pulls me into a quick hug.

One season left with these boys.

My eyes burn at the thought.

When the time comes at the end of the season, I’m going to bawl like a baby. My team, especially a select few, have become more like brothers than friends.

That’s the beauty about hockey. It’s centered around the feeling of family, a value a majority of us hold dear.

We support each other in everything we do, lifting each other up when we need it and cooling us down when we need to chill. There’s something special about this sport, a magic that resides in it.

“Ready to go, guys? We got to get going,” Ross trots into the room, dressed sharp as hell in his gold-and-green plaid suit.

“I didn’t know we were going all out.” I lift my hands in defense. “Way to outdress us all.”

He laughs. “That’s always going to be the case, Mase. I’m surprised you’re not used to it by now.”

I am. I just like giving him shit.

“All right, all right. What do you say, boys?” I take a breath as a smile takes over my face. “It’s game time.”

An electricity crackles through the air as goose bumps break across the tops of my arms. This is it. The calm before the storm.

“Holt!” Chet snaps his fingers in front of my mask.

Shit.

A couple of the guys are staring straight at me. Clearly, I zoned out and missed something.

“My bad. What’s up?” I clear my throat.

Ross studies me. “What’s on your mind? Get it out now before it’s eating you alive mid-game. We need you sharp out there.”

This may be a preseason game, but it’s a tone setter for the official season.

Regardless, we don’t like to lose—no one does. And I can’t hide a thing from these boys, not after how long we’ve been playing together.

Ross rushes me, motioning with his hands. “Come on, dude. What’s going on? You’re never in your head this bad before a game. You’re usually dancing around the locker room.”

I could lie and tell them I’m just nervous. But I don’t want to do that.

So, I tell them the truth.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I exhale. “It’s Daphne.”

Chet’s eyes light up. “Well yeah, duh.”

“Told you it was going to be about her.” Ross laughs.

I glare at him.

Ross shrugs and chuckles. “Sorry. But what about her?”

This is one thing I’ve always loved about these guys; they’re emotional and not afraid to talk about it.

“I kind of gave her an ultimatum before we left for our camping trip. I want us to make it official.” I pause, taking a shaky breath. “If she shows up in my jersey tonight, then she wants the same. If not … well then, I have the other answer.”

Ross smacks me on the back of my head. “And you had to do this emotional torture mid-game? What the hell is wrong with goalies?”