Coach leads us down the hallway toward one of the back conference rooms the school uses for meetings and film reviews. The fluorescent lights hum overhead; the tile squeaks under our sneakers. Todd walks beside me, close enough that our arms brush occasionally, not on purpose, just because neither of us is willing to drift farther apart right now.
My heart is pounding so hard it's a miracle no one hears it.
Coach stops outside the door, turns to us, and rests a hand on each of our shoulders.
“He’s legit,” he says quietly. “And he asked for both of you. Take this seriously.”
We both nod. Todd swallows hard.
Coach knocks once, opens the door, and gestures us in.
The scout is already standing—mid-forties, clean-cut, sharp suit, sharp eyes, a portfolio open on the table in front ofhim. He looks like someone who has made and broken careers with a single pen stroke.
But when he sees us, he smiles.
“Logan Brooks,” he says, extending a hand. “And Todd Shaw. I’ve been waiting to meet you two.”
My palms are sweating, but I shake his hand. Todd does the same.
“Please, sit.”
We do.
He stays standing for a moment, studying us in a way that makes every hair on the back of my neck stand up. But then he nods, like something has just confirmed itself in his head.
“I won’t waste your time,” he begins. “I’m here representing the New Jersey Devils.”
Todd stiffens beside me. I feel every muscle in him lock up.
The Devils.
A real NHL team. One that doesn’t send scouts on feel-good field trips.
The scout continues, flipping open the portfolio.
“I’ve been following your stats closely this season. Both of you have standout numbers—speed, positioning, hockey IQ. But what I’m most impressed by”—he looks up again—“is your chemistry.”
My throat goes dry.
Todd glances sideways at me, stunned.
“You two,” the scout says, “play like a pair of gears that were machined to fit together. I haven’t seen defensive synergy like this in years.”
He taps his pen against the paper.
“And we want it.”
My pulse jumps. “You mean?—”
“I mean we want both of you,” he says firmly. “Together. As a package deal.”
Todd goes completely still.
“We’re prepared to offer each of you an invitation to our Prospect Development Camp this summer. If you both accept—and if you perform the way I believe you will—you’ll be offered a joint contract.”
“A… joint contract?” Todd whispers.
The scout nods. “There are players who elevate a team alone. And then there are pairs who elevate each other. You two are the latter. We want the synergy. The instinct. The trust.”
