“Kegs. Music. The usual. Girls are already lining up, apparently.” He grins, trying to drag some energy into the room. “First game is done. We can’t fix it tonight, might as well enjoy ourselves.”
I pull my sweater over my head and say nothing.
Because he isn’t wrong. Not really. This is how it works - you lose, you shake it off, you find a party and drink until the game stops replaying in your head. Most of the league does it. This is how most of the guys in the room cope with a firstgame loss.
But tonight?
Tonight it feels wrong. Like celebrating a funeral.
I grab my bag and stand.
“Blake.” Russo’s voice stops me near the door. He’s leaning against the frame, arms crossed, watching the room with that unreadable expression he gets after games. “You going?”
I hesitate.
The smart answer is no. Go home. Try to distract myself and not just stare at the ceiling.
But the Captain is still watching. And I know what he’s really asking.
Show your face. Let them see you. Let them believe we’re not broken after one game.
“Yeah,” I say. “For a bit.”
He nods. Nothing else. Just that quiet acknowledgment.
I push through the door.
Outside, the cold hits immediately. A few guys are already drifting toward the parking lot, voices low, breath fogging in the air. Someone’s making a call - “Yeah, we’re heading over now, save us a-”
I tune it out.
Beckett catches up to me near my truck.
“Yo, Blake. You coming or what? Thompson’s place is gonna be-”
“Yeah.” I cut him off. “I’ll be there.”
He hesitates, like he’s waiting for more. Then shrugs and jogs toward a car full of guys already yelling about something.
I lean against my truck for a minute.
The arena looms behind me, dark now except for the security lights. Twenty feet away, the ice is still settling under itscovers.
I should go home.
I should absolutely go home.
But Calloway’s right. Perception matters. And if the star forward disappears after a loss, people talk. Assume that he’s licking his wounds.
So, I’ll go.
I’ll show my face.
I’ll stay just long enough that no one can say I didn’t show.
Then I’ll leave.
Simple.
