But when had I ever done the smart thing?
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I knew who it was before I even pulled it out.
PuckingSkylerShaw: Game starts soon. Any pre-game rituals I should know about? Do you sacrifice a goat? Dance naked under the moon?
I smiled despite all the well-intentioned advice I’d received.
Me: We sacrifice Benji. One slice to a non-vital limb, a few drops of blood, and BAM, happy hockey gods. He’s surprisingly okay with it.
PuckingSkylerShaw: That tracks. He seems like he’d be into ritual sacrifice.
Me: He insists on being the center of attention—even in fake death.
PuckingSkylerShaw: Respect. Anyway, I should focus. Coach is giving me the death glare. I wanted to say thanks again for last night. And for tomorrow. It means a lot.
Me: Go win your game, hockey star. We’ll be cheering.
PuckingSkylerShaw: Loud?
Me: The loudest. Nobody out screams the queens. Foam fingers and everything.
PuckingSkylerShaw: Fingers and queens. Sounds likeHorny Rivals.
Me: We do what we can.
PuckingSkylerShaw: See you tomorrow.
Me: See you, Sky.
Chapter 14
Skyler
Ichanged my shirt four times.
This was insane. It was tacos.
Casual tacos at a hole-in-the-wall spot with a friend.
There was no reason to be standing in front of my closet at 11:15 a.m., cycling through options like I was preparing for a magazine shoot.
Navy henley? Too try-hard.
Gray T-shirt? Too boring.
White button-down? Way too much. This wasn’t a job interview.
I settled on a faded FSU T-shirt that I’d owned since college. It was soft, comfortable, and felt low-effort. Plus, Jacks would appreciate the Seminoles connection, former linebacker and all that.
I checked myself in the mirror one last time. My hair was doing that thing where it couldn’t decideif it wanted to cooperate or rebel. I ran my fingers through it, made it worse, then gave up. This was as good as it was going to get.
My phone buzzed on the dresser.
Jacks: Still on for noon? I can push if you need more time to recover from last night’s heroics.
Me: Heroics? That was a regular goal for me. Very casual. I barely even tried.
Jacks: Right. The slow-motion replay of you screaming like a thirteen-year-old girl who got invited to prom sold the casual vibe.
