MALAKI
“What doyou mean you’re moving out?” Kane studies me from across the ice.
I toss the puck to him, but he lets it slide right past. I skate a circle around him. “You know you’re going to move Daisy in eventually, so why do you care?”
I opted to use my house on the other side of town as an Airbnb and moved in with Kane when he found himself in a sticky financial situation, but I wouldn’t really call us roommates. He’s sort of a loner. The quiet, broody type.
I decided to drop the news now as we warm up for the last period of the game. We’re up 2 to 1, but we all know that doesn’t mean anything. I figure it’s better to tell him while we’re winning, versus after, in case we lose.
Most of the team will be fuming if we leave defeated, especially Kane.
Don’t get me wrong, I hate to lose too.
I’m just a little more in control of my emotions than the rest of these hotheads.
“The rent is paid for the rest of the year,” I add. “Is that why you’re looking at me like I just broke your heart?” I lean in close. “Don’t tell me you’reheartbroken that I’m moving out. I didn’t realize you liked me that much.”
“I don’t,” he snaps.
Rhodes, an even grumpier version of Kane, skates past, and I take the opportunity for what it is. “Hey, Volkova.” I tap him with my stick, and he stops immediately, ice flinging up from his abrupt pause. He glares at my stick against the front of his jersey.
“What do you want, Young?”
I fling my chin over to Kane. “Kane is sad that I’m moving out of the apartment. Figured you’d want to see him shed a tear or two—you know, to confirm that he does have feelings.”
Rhodes glances at Kane and then to me. “Do you ever shut up?”
Kane is the first to answer. “No. He doesn’t.”
Rhodes grins and skates off with Kane following close behind. I trail them because I still haven’t broken the news to them—or to anyone, really.
“Don’t you guys want to know why I’m moving? Or where?”
Rhodes turns, skating backward with his stoic face smooth. “Not unless it’s because you’re being traded, which I know isn’t the case…so, nope.”
He skates away, and I let him.
I steal a puck from the floor, the crowd becoming louder as the minutes tick by. I toss the black biscuit back and forth before heading to center ice to fling it at our goalie.
Olson blocks it with his killer reflexes before doing the same to Kane’s.
“Damn, he’s good,” Kane mutters.
He is.
I’ll admit, our team had a lot of work to do at the beginning of the season, but adding Emory Olson to the roster as our goalie has completely turned this season around. We’re not bad, and the league is beginning to notice.
“Okay, fine,” Kane gives in. “I’ll take the bait. Where are you moving?”
The buzzer sounds, and we’re quickly pulled back to the bench. “Back to my house on Oak.”
I tip my head back and squirt water into my mouth.
“Oak?” Rhodes, who must’ve been listening, repeats the name of the street.
I smirk. “Oh, so Daddydoeswant to know where I’m moving.”
He narrows his eyes. “Never call me Daddy again if you want to make it back to your house on Oak.”
