The rest of the game passes in a blur. We beat Stormhaven 4-2, but the victory doesn’t feel like one to celebrate.
Coach is waiting for us in the locker room, and the second the door closes behind the last player, he explodes. “What in the actual fuck was that out there?” He paces back and forth. “Mercer, Holt. You want to explain to me why you decided to turn our hockey game into a god-damn circus?”
“Coach—” Jagger starts, but Coach cuts him off.
“Actually, I don’t want to hear it! Fighting is part of the game, but that”—he gestures toward the door—“was personal and fucking reckless. And you”—he points directly at me—“that was the stupidest fucking hit I’ve seen you make all season. You’re lucky you didn’t get ejected.”
I keep my head down. My knuckles are bruised, and my ribs ache from where Landon got me in retaliation during the third period. But all I can think about is Leila’s face pressed against the glass.
“We won,” Coach continues, “yet all anyone’s going to talk about tomorrow is how two of my best players lost their mindsover some girl. Do you understand how that makes the team look?”
“It wasn’t just some girl,” I say quietly.
“I don’t care if it was the Queen of England!” Coach roars. “Check your personal shit at the door when you step on my ice. Both of you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Coach,” Jagger and I say in unison.
“Good. Now clean up and get the hell out of my sight. If I ever see another stunt like that, you’ll both be riding the bench. I don’t care how good you are.”
He storms out, and the rest of the team avoids looking at us.
“Well,” Riven says calmly, already out of his goalie gear. “That went well.”
“Shut up,” Jagger mutters as he pulls off his pads. I strip off my gear as quickly as possible, my mind already racing.
We need to find Leila. We need to explain.
“She’s probably still here,” Riven says, reading my thoughts. “She can’t have gotten far.”
“Let’s go,” I say, not bothering to shower. I pull on track pants and then a hoodie over my compression shirt, which is still damp with sweat, then drag on my runners.
Jagger and Riven are right behind me as we push through the locker room door and head toward the main concourse. The arena is still crowded with fans, and we brush through them, looking for Leila.
“There,” Jagger says, pointing toward the visitors’ section.
When we get there, the Stormhaven fans are already filing out, and there’s no sign of Leila among them. We check the main entrance, the parking lot access, and even circle back to the home section in case she somehow ended up there.
“Maybe she went to find her brothers,” Riven suggests, though he doesn’t sound convinced. We make our way towardthe visitors’ locker room area, but security stops us before we can get close.
“Players only,” the guard says. “You know the rules.”
“We’re looking for someone,” I say, trying to peer past him.
“Not my problem. Clear the area.”
Frustrated, we head toward the parking lot, hoping to catch her before she leaves. But we see the Stormhaven team bus pulling away, and when I check the visitor parking section, Levi’s truck is gone.
“Fuck,” I snap, running a hand through my hair.
“She’s gone,” Jagger says, stating the obvious. He pulls out his phone and starts typing.
“What are you doing?” Riven asks.
“Texting her. What do you think?”
My phone is already in my hand, and I pull up our group chat. Then, before any of us can send a message, Jagger stops with a curse.
“Wait,” he snaps. “What do we even say? ‘Hey, sorry your brother just found out you’ve been fucking around with us. Want to meet up?’”
