A hush falls so heavy I hold my breath, not wanting even the movement of my chest to draw attention to me. My face burns as I scan the crowd.
“I understand the league is disappointed in my actions and has opened an investigation. I intend to cooperate with them. But—” His voice falters. He looks at me. “What I did taints Elijah’s reputation, his teammates’ trust, and the integrity of this organization. That’s on me.” He straightens, leaning away from the podium. “I’ll be stepping away from team operations during the investigation. I will not be taking questions. Thank you for supporting this great team.”
As soon as he takes a step back, hands shoot up, and the room explodes with questions. It’s hard for me to focus on any of it as my senses have blurred, and my pulse throbs in my ear. Bill turns to me, rests a pudgy hand on my shoulder, and squeezes in a wordless apology. Then he pivots and strides offstage with his chin held high.
I’ve got to hand it to him. Self-esteem has never been his problem.
I step to the mic again, blinking to avoid direct gazes. Oddly, my chest loosens. I take a breath. “As you know, I’m Elijah Jonas. I don’t have much to add to Bill’s statement. I can confirm it’s true.” I pause, finding my voice. “All of it. I’m sorry for misusing your trust, but I’ve worked hard every day to earn my spot on this team. I love this game. Whatever happens next, I’ll respect the league’s decision.”
My attention goes to Koren in the corner. The rest of my words die there. I don’t need to say anything else. Nobody else matters. I know that whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.
I exit through the same side door Bill did. My knees nearly buckle from losing the support of the podium. Bill is alreadygone, and it’s just me back here, and I blank. I just addressed everyone, but I can’t remember what I said. Did I thank them for their support? I hope I didn’t sound like an idiot.
Taking the back tunnels out of the arena, I’m grateful to avoid the crowd, and I nearly bump into Koren. Before I can speak, she throws her arms around me. Burying my face in her shoulder, I steady the rhythm of my breathing with hers.
She runs her hand along the side of my face. “You did it.”
“I did something,” I mutter, struggling to speak through the thickness in my throat. “I have no idea what it will accomplish, but my conscience is clear.” I pull her and change the subject. “What’s really amazing is how you got back here before me. Did you fly?”
“I wish I could have flown. I ran as fast as I could.” She leans in and kisses me quickly. “I’m so proud of you,” she says against my lips.
I let out an exhausted sigh with emotion clouding my throat. I don’t know how I got this lucky. I’m going to make sure she never doubts how much I care about her. “I love you.”
Her grin is sincere. “Same.” She reaches around my jacket, adjusts my collar, and says, “Maybe I’m wrong, but it didn’t sound like Bill or the league fired you.”
“I won’t be able to play until the investigation clears my name.” She nods, brushing her fingers along my face once more. I resist the urge to close my eyes and just stay here with her where it’s easy. “I want to try to catch Coach before he leaves though.”
“Right.” She rises to her toes, pressing another chaste kiss to my lips. “I won’t keep you.”
“I’ll call you later,” I say over my shoulder, heading out. I scurry down the hall until I’m in front of Coach Carlson’s office. I’d texted him earlier to request a meeting with him after the conference, and I put my hand on his door handle. If I had timeto pause, I’d eavesdrop to see if anyone is there, but there’s no time to waste, I knock and wait.
The door swings open and Coach is standing there with a stern look on his face. I swallow hard.
There’s dead silence. My heart slams so hard against my ribcage it feels like it’s going to break. He glares at me for a solid thirty seconds before saying flatly, “It’s out of my hands. We have to wait for the league to decide, but if I were you, I’d put your jersey on.”
I blink. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, don’t quit first.” He gives me a curt nod, and I back out as it’s clear neither one of us really wants to say anything else.
I’ve never moved faster as I ran out of the arena.
I don’t know what will happen next.
I'll do what I’ve always done and work my hardest to earn my spot.
I wasn’t prepared for what was waiting for me every day that followed that week.
The headlines didn’t roll in like I expected. They exploded.
“Granite Ice Player, Elijah Jonas, Crashes Career in Cover-Up Scandal” “Hockey Star Admits Closed-Door Deal with Owner, Bill Baker” “Granite Ice Owner, Bill Baker Under Investigation for Recruitment Violations”
I shut my phone off to prevent the spiral. The world felt like it was closing in, and I didn’t need front-row seats to my own public implosion.
After a few days without my phone, time stopped making sense. I couldn’t tell what day it was. I was still breathing and eating. It wasn’t living, though, it was survival mode. My goal was to get through the day and then start all over the next.
I guess it was good it was the off season as I hid at home. After a few days of not going out, Koren knocks on the door. I know it’s her because her knock is soft and unthreatening.
“It’s unlocked,” I call out, squinting toward the door. The sunlight through my drawn-tight blinds is soft, but nothing feels warm. I’ve been sitting at my kitchen table for over an hour, just clicking the end of a pen like it might eventually solve my problems. Koren walks in with her hands in her fall jacket pockets.
