Page 4 of Unrivaled Love (D.C. Renegades #2)

Bryson

“My balls are melting down my leg.”

“Normally they’re so soft and bouncy.” Crosby whispers to Duncan as we walk up to the makeshift stage for today’s statue unveiling.

“Like a puppy’s.” Duncan agrees. “Today it’s like he stuck his finger in a light socket.”

I know they’re talking about me. About my hair, I didn't take the time to style it when I rolled out of bed late.

“And he’s in a team-issued polo.” Crosby points out.

“He’s almost a shadow of himself. Does he have a boring twin we don’t know about?” Duncan asks.

“No. I don’t.” I tell them.

“You okay, Boba Tea?” Duncan asks. I swallow the I’m fine automatic response. These clowns will make it a big deal to uncover exactly how not fine I am and I don’t have the time to dig through it right now.

“I dunno.” I settle on instead.

“You’ve been weird for a while now.” Crosby says quietly as we start to line up. “Like, you didn’t dance at Johnny and Caroline’s wedding last weekend.”

“Ohmygod, you didn’t!” Duncan adds as he realizes I spent the night at the table nursing a whiskey.

Normally, yeah, I’m the guy loving the club vibe or leading the Cha Cha Slide at the wedding. But last weekend I couldn’t muster the energy. My legs felt heavy and twitchy. The music only sounded loud in my ears instead of inspiring my pulse to match it.

Then I had my family, and The Hamiltons, in town for Jo’s game.

They rented a house together and I visited as often as my schedule would allow, hoping to catch Jo.

Yet, she was never there. She didn’t join the family for drinks after the game either.

I had to leave before they went out to dinner.

Her sister, Al, made it seem like Jo was going to join them there.

Thankfully Al still talks to me, at least occasionally. Her placating smile stung a bit last night but I tried to shake it off. She’s the closest thing to a connection to Jo I can get since she cracked the impassable crevasse into our friendship.

It feels like we are on two different icebergs, passing each other slowly in the sea. Coming close but never colliding again after we first broke apart.

I zone out as Coach Bradford speaks and introduces our captain, Felix Fornier.

My eyes glaze over as I stare out at the crowd of fans.

It was a little weird to have both families together in D.C.

but it also felt right. Normal. They razzed me a bit as people leaving Jo’s game asked for pictures and autographs.

I take the time to be with fans but it is also draining.

Drinks after the game was easier, it was just the family.

I breathe into that feeling of comfort and everything around me fades out to a faint buzz of sound and wash of color until Crosby elbows me in the side.

“Ow.” I grumble as I rub the sore spot.

“Pay attention.” He says with a nod towards Felix’s spot at the podium.

"We decided to give Young Gun a break from the public appearances so he's off galavanting in Europe.

That means we don't have the game winning goalie here with us today.

You'll have to settle for the Renegade who got the most goals in our run for The Cup, earning him the Conn Smythe Trophy as playoffs MVP, put your hands together for Bryson Svoboda! "

I silently thank Crosby for making sure I was dialed in. I step forward as Felix's joke about settling for me lands and I pretend to play wounded. The crowd eats it up and so I clutch my chest and stumble backwards before walking up to join him at the mic.

After playing for an extra two and half months in the playoffs, when we won, I figured we'd get some time off. Instead, it's been one team appearance after another.

The season is physically demanding between near daily practices, three games a week, taking hits on the ice, training, and travel. This off-season has been draining mentally.

Some appearances have been fun, like the soccer game. Some have been rewarding like the hospital ward sleep-under last night where we all donned team jammies, handed them out to the kids, and dimmed the lights for movie night.

Others, like today's Fan Zone rally, feel like pure noise.

"Thank you Cap," I clap Felix on the shoulder and pull up to the podium. "How we feeling Renegade Nation?"

I smile and clap along with the crowd. A commemorative statue is being unveiled today outside the Koffee Center, the arena where we play.

It’s a bronze rendering of the team on the ice with The Cup.

It’s that weird style where our smiles are open mouthed but there isn’t any detail in the teeth and I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to make teeth look real in these things.

My eyes scan the group gathered. Normally, I love crowds. Both under the bright lights on the rink for 60 minutes every game and at events like this. Even clubs and bars. The energy of a group of people fuels me. I can feel it in my bones.

But right now, when I should be reveling in the crowd’s attention, I'm fighting to keep my jaw from clenching up. What is wrong with me? My heart is picking up speed, not in a good way, and as I scan the crowd of faces craning to see mine I feel empty.

"We fought hard for the Cup this year!" I push the words past my dry mouth and cheers erupt louder, if that is even possible.

My ears start ringing but I force myself to stay in my goofball persona.

The one I developed as a kid to mask my insecurity of always being the smallest on the team.

I've worked to be as fast, if not faster, than guys with longer legs.

I've spent thousands of hours honing my stick handling skills to be one of the best. But there are still plenty of jokes to go around about the short guy so I deflect before they get a chance. "Who's ready for another one?"

Roars hit my ears in a painful onslaught and my chest feels like a hippopotamus is sitting on me. The air becomes thick around me. Fuck, we have to start over and do it all again.

The reality of it hitting me like a train.

"We're going to put in the work," I promise as I swing my shaking arm out to indicate my teammates standing on the small stage behind me. My mind races with the challenges ahead of me to get to this moment again. Because that’s the point of the game isn’t it.

To win. To win everything. And to keep winning.

My head swims. I haven’t had to force smiles or excitement like this ever before.

"And we love kno-" I trail off when I catch the swish of a chestnut ponytail in the crowd and the world turns to sepia tones. My eyes know before my brain does and I zero in on Jo Hamilton. She stands next to my mom and her stance is the dictionary illustration of pissed off.

After seven years I figured the first time we made eye contact it would be an ethereal moment. Clouds would part. Birds would sing.

Instead there is a chill in her gaze that puts ice in my veins.

I clear my throat, "Uh, we umm, we," my words jumble as I stare out at her.

I blink and try to look anywhere else because her eyes are laser beams set to destroy me and I am trapped in their crosshairs.

I grip the podium like it’s a life float and forcibly angle my shoulder away from her to help me refocus.

As soon as our eye contact breaks I suck in a breath.

"What was I saying?" I ask and the crowd laughs.

Felix approaches to rescue me from my total system breakdown. His eyes are conveying empathy. The opposite of the absolute loathing I caught in Jo's.

"You were saying you love knowing our fans are behind us as we start to prepare for next season!" He starts clapping to encourage the people to do the same and he all but shoves me back in line.

“The fuck was that?" Crosby whisper-yells over the crowd from one side of me as he claps.

"Boba Tea, you okay?" Emmett, my linemate on the right wing, asks from my other.

"Yeah. Nothing. Fine." I mumble. My eyes dart side to side as I try to find her again.

"Something broke Bryson." Cros jokes to Duncan on his other side and all I can do is blink and try to keep myself upright.

My body feels completely locked up but loose at the same time, like the brush of a feather could send me toppling over like a utility pole.

I've never told my parents Jo and I don't speak anymore. It wasn't my choice to end the years of friendship, and more, we shared. That was all her.

But she never actually ended it, did she?

She just completely vanished from my life.

The only reason I know she's alive and well is the fact I watch her SLCFC games whenever they're on. The closest I have been to her was seeing her play yesterday and whatever passed between us just moments ago.

I want to jump off the stage and chase after her .

I want to know why the smile I’m forcing is radiating pain into my temples.

Felix stands back and helps remove the sheet draped over the statue. The gathered fans clap and cheer and all I hear is a high-pitch squealing like my brain is a dial-up modem establishing a connection.

After a few pictures we’re dismissed and I hurry off the makeshift stage. My parents flank me for a few pictures as the event winds down.

"Still so proud of you Bry," My mom says with a pinch of my cheeks followed by a hug.

I laugh. "Thanks Mom." But my knees feel like they’re about to give out. I need to get out of here. Away from people. Away from the temptation to search for Jo in the receding crowd.

"What happened up there?" My dad asks. "When you lost your train of thought."

Do I tell them it's because Jo was shooting daggers at me?

"I, umm, just got distracted by the crowd for a minute. It's been a lot."

"Is the schedule slowing down at all?" Mom asks as we walk towards the sidewalk.

"Yeah, The Cup starts making its daily visits now so the full team stuff slows down.” I crack my knuckles to try and relieve some of the tension in my body but it doesn’t do much.

"You're bringing it to the Christmas in July festival, right?" Mom asks as she pulls her ringing phone out of her pocket.

"Yeah.” I roll my head side to side to stretch out my shoulders even as fond memories filter in.

The Christmas In July event my hometown organizes is huge.

Stalls of vendors selling gifts, ornaments, treats, and thousands of people come together.

“I think we’ll do the parade early and have a little rally. ”

"When are you going to head back home?" Dad asks with a look at Mom who answered her phone and mumbled something like another delay as she stepped aside.

"My flight is the day before." I tell him but thinking of the agenda for the week between now and then makes me feel like I’m walking in quicksand. Team events and appearances ease up but they don’t disappear completely. There are at least three more I’m aware of.

"Okay,” Mom heaves a sigh but she’s off the phone. “We'll see you then. Our flight leaves in a few hours so we're gonna head out." I give them sticky hugs before seeing them off.

I walk back towards the guys and Duncan is picking at his shirt collar to move some air around.

"My balls are melting down my leg." He says.

"Same." I sigh as I slyly adjust my sack to try and find a cooler sliver of fabric. It’s brutal out here but I’m glad I’m not the only one feeling the heat. Glad it isn’t only in my head.

Crosby steps over to us. "You guys going to Aces tonight?"

"Maybe." I tell him and am met with a questioning lift of an eyebrow.

“Maybe?” Cros challenges.

“Yeah, I’m not sure if I want to go.” The defensive tone in my voice isn’t helping my case. I just want to go home.

But the home I picture isn’t my condo.

My mind fills with images of hiking paths winding through tall trees. A lake that opens up out of nowhere between the slopes of a mountain. A large set of windows overlooking the scenery.

A bunk room in the basement filled with my siblings and the Hamiltons as we goof off and play stupid games.

And a mahogany ponytail swaying in front of me as I walk behind her through the woods .

Eyes the color of sunlight dappling through the summer leaves radiating affection back into mine.

It’s a dream, a fever dream maybe, but I know exactly where I need to go.