LEO: Is your knee ok?
ME: Barely. Tell my story.
LEO: You impressed me, Gwen. Also, you owe me $4 for fries.
I smile despite myself. Idiot.
I toss the phone onto the cushion beside me and close my eyes.
After what feels like an hour, I limp toward my freezer for an ice pack. I press it to my knee and wince.
“Ok,” I tell myself. “We’re done. We’re going to sleep.”
I sink back onto the couch, the ice pack balanced on my knee, and let my eyes close again.
I fall asleep sometime after midnight, with the ice pack melted and my phone face down beside me.
When I wake up at 5:12 a.m. for no reason other than my body hates peace, I have one new message.
I squint at it, half-asleep, and my stomach drops awake instantly.
LEO: Btw, Zane asked if you were ok.
I stare at the screen.
Nothing after that. Just Leo, casually informing me that his famous hockey player friend asked about me like this is a normal, low-stakes detail.
Somewhere, deep down, a very small part of me whispers:
Oh no.
Chapter 4
Zane
“Can you believe we won?” Blake asks, still trying to catch his breath. “We won,” he repeats, like it hasn’t quite landed yet, as we pack up our things.
I think the entire team was convinced we were going to lose, which made us fight even harder than usual.
“Honestly, I thought we lost. They got pretty close,” I say.
The rest of the team is a bit more aggressive about winning than we are. Blake and I used to be like that. Maybe, in the world of hockey, we’re getting old. Coach says we still have a couple of good years ahead of us if we want to keep playing, but who knows when that changes.
“The look on Perth’s face when the whistle blew was incredible. I wish I could frame it,” Blake grins.
Perth has been his rival for a while, and this game meant a lot to him. They play the same position, and they used to be on the same team. Their history goes back far.
“Yeah, the Hawks aren’t too happy,” I say with a laugh.
“I hope we play them again in this league,” Blake sighs, already thinking about another win.
“Chances are we will,” I say.
“Any plans tonight?” Blake asks as I throw my bag over my shoulder. It’s stiff from the game. Somehow, opponents always crash into my right shoulder like it’s a universal weak spot every coach knows about.
“Not really. I think I’m going to watch a movie. At least we don’t have practice tomorrow. What about you?”
“I have a date with this influencer girl. She kept sending me DMs, so I figured I’d give her a shot. She’s cute,” Blake says with a grin.
