My mind automatically shifts back to Axl. He was blindsided by the news of my deception, which was not a good way to break it to him at all, and then I practically ambushed him at the park when he clearly wanted to be left alone. I could have handled that so much better.
Maybe if I put some thought into it . . . another shot at apologizing could work? “You know something?” I look up at my mom while grabbing my guitar by the neck and sitting on the chair, positioning myself to play. “I was working on a new song, trying to funnel some of my disappointment into something productive, but what do you think about the idea of me playing it forAxlwhen it’s done?”
Her expression softens and she reaches out, touching my forearm, and gives it a soft squeeze. “I think it’s worth a shot.” Mama’s proud smile beams as she slowly backs out of the door. “I need to run or I’ll be late, but I can’t wait to hear it when I get back.”
“Love you.” I keep my eyes on my guitar as I adjust the strings, and a tiny seed of hope fills my chest. An apology will work, but I just need to do it with a littlepresentation.
twenty-one
Axl
The crowd becomes unglued, screaming out explosive cheers as the puck flies past the goalie and into the net seconds before the period ends. I raise my arms in triumph, a victorious grin spreading across my face as the buzzer sounds. When the second period is over, momentum has shifted in Granite Ice’s favor. It’s the best possible thing that could happen. Coach has his NHL friend, Mike Stevens, in the owner’s box today, and he’s been glued to my every move.
My stomach has been a fireball of nerves all day, and I can’t believe after all the years of hard work and sacrifice, my dreams might finally come true. Sure, I had a little help from Sophie and that ridiculous stunt we pulled, but the NHL isn’t here to look at my social media photos. They are here to watch me play.
Sweat beads down my brow, and I swipe it away just as Noah raises his glove to give me knuckies, and together we skate off the ice for intermission. Usually, the music is on by now, pumping the team and crowd back up. It’s oddly quiet untilthe chords of an acoustic guitar cut into the intercom system. It’s so out of place that it pricks my ears. Sometimes the team managers allow a special spotlight on a local charity cause, and I cut a glance to the overhead screens, immediately wishing I hadn’t.
Cold sweat slides down my back.
I’m in a nightmare.
My blood runs frigid through my veins, and my heart ramps up at turbo speeds. This can’t be happening. I slowly scan the crowd, praying it’s my imagination playing tricks on me, but all the fans are glued to the screen, too.
Full center on the screen, Sophie stands on the ice and in front of the camera with a junkie guitar strapped around her shoulders, and she’s strumming away like we’re about to impart on some parade. My throat dries and I wish I could scream out, but that would only draw more attention to whatever stunt she’s playing. I pinch my arm, praying I wake up from this nightmare, but nothing happens. This is no nightmare—this is real.
Just when I think it can’t possibly get any worse, she opens her mouth and begins to sing. She has a lovely voice, but it doesn’t take a genius to see what’s happening when she belts out the first phrase.
I know my apology won’t take back
The fact that I hurt you.
But please know I’m sorry
With every word in this song
This is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. I raise my glove over my brow and cringe as heat floods to my face. Is she seriously up there making a fool of herself to apologize? Did she purposely not make it rhyme? She has to know this song is terrible.
With the NHL coach watching me, this is the biggest night of my career.
This can’t be happening.
I shoot daggers out of my eyes, running my hand over my throat, signaling her to cut out, but she just keeps singing.
I'm sorry for my selfishness
I'm sorry I hurt you
But it was never my intention
The overhead screen splits, and now one side shows me, and I’m dying. The whole crowd knows the song is about me, and my face fires hotter than an oven. I have to take matters into my own hands, and I skate toward her, and everyone in the crowd holds their collective breath. You can hear every slice of my skate, and I’m at a loss at what to do. She’s completely lost her mind, but if I’m a prick and run my mouth—the way I usually do—I’m surely going to get kicked off the team. My reputation will also be ruined, because I guarantee every starry-eyed female in this room right now is rooting for us to get back together.
It can’t happen.
But Sophie will not stop singing!
I thought I was strong, but now I’m trembling,
My heart is quaking inside my chest.
