I went to the door and held it open. “Out.”
He laughed all the way down the hall.
The boys were unusually quiet when we boarded the bus. I sat beside Theo and took out my tablet to read.
Jace was behind us, and as soon as we hit the highway, he announced, “Listen up, boys. Important bulletin.”
“Proceed,” Theo said, as solemnly as he would at a funeral.
Jace cleared his throat. “From Instagram. User is HockeyHeartsFan. ‘I don’t care what else is happening in the world, hashtag Packo comes first. The way Rossi looks at Paquette? That’s not eye contact. It’s foreplay with extra steps. Fire emoji. Hashtag EnemiesToBoyfriends. Hashtag PackoForever.’”
“Ha ha,” Kai chimed in. “You’d need foreplay with training wheels, Jace.”
“I don’t see you surrounded by puck-chasers after games,” Jace shot back. While everyone laughed, he added, “But tell me HockeyHeartsFan is wrong.”
Theo stood, gave me a look, and started reading. “PowerPlayPrincess2 says: ‘Paquette claims they’re just good friends. Said while his hand is on Rossi’s shoulder and he’slooking at him like a national treasure. If that’s friendship, I need new friends. Hashtag PackoConfirmed.’”
The noise barely died down before Kai spoke again. “BlueLineBard comments: ‘Somewhere a romance novelist is crying because Hashtag Packo already wrote the perfect love story in fights, whispers, F-me eyes, and slow-mo edits. Laugh emoji. Two hockey stick emojis.”
The guys lost it, and when I flipped them off, they laughed louder.
Noah popped up from the seat in front of me. “Here’s one by WantNickJohnsonsStick. ‘The real sports stat we need is the number of heart attacks caused by the way Nico stared at Paquette after the loss.’ They looped the clip. Finished the post with, ‘I’m fine. Totally fine. Where’s my hockey dude? Hashtag SendHelp. Hashtag PackoFeels.’”
It didn’t stop. Kai and Theo paced the aisle like guides giving tours of my humiliation, shoving TikToks in everyone’s faces. By the time we pulled up at the airport’s private terminal, my face hurt from trying not to laugh and failing anyway.
Kai, goddamn traitor that he was, stopped beside me. “Relax. We’re saving the worst ones for the flight to Detroit.”
“Yeah,” Theo said. “Jace started a betting pool on when the first public Packo kiss will happen.”
When the door opened, everyone stood and stretched.
Coach Murphy stood at the front of the bus. “Good trip, boys.” Then he glanced at his phone and grinned. “ShipItAndLoveIt says, ‘The Packo chemistry could melt the ice in Alaska, Siberia, and Antarctica. Scientists are calling it Global Warming: Packo Edition. Melting face emoji. Two hearts emoji. Hashtag StickHandleMe. Hashtag PackoForever.’”
He stepped off the bus without another word.
While the guys howled, Kai said, “Congrats, Packo. You’re officially destroying the planet.”
I buried my face in my hands. “Please let the plane’s Wi-Fi be out.”
Theo slung an arm around my shoulders. “Won’t help, lover boy. We saved screenshots.”
I stood, shaking my head and grinning despite myself. If the internet didn’t kill me, my teammates probably would. At least I wouldn’t die unloved.
26/
packy
NIX: You wearing your panties tonight?
PACKY: Fuck you.
NIX: We’ll see who fucks who next time. I meant for the game, genius. Thunder’s on a winning streak.
PACKY: Not for long. And no panties for me. Just a jock and a cup, thanks.
NIX: With that image in my head, I’m gonna jerk off. Video call after the game?
PACKY: If you’re lucky.
