Katie crosses her arms. “That is the worst plan I have ever heard.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Katie says slowly, “if she gets caught, couldn’t the whole team get disqualified?”
Willow shrugs. “And what? They literally haven’t won a game yet. What difference would it make if they got kicked out? And besides, it won’t happen.”
She sounds confident.
“Either cut your hair or stuff it under a skullcap. Don’t talk much. Keep your helmet on. It’s college so all the helmets have cages instead of visors. Easy.”
Katie watches my face carefully.
I’m not laughing.
I’m thinking about the ice. The speed. The puck sliding across the surface. The way it felt on the lake when I stole it from Markus.
“Leo,” Katie says slowly, worry creeping into her voice.
But Willow is still grinning. “It’s not forever. We can pull it off for a few weeks.”
And if I’m honest with myself, the idea is a crazy, tempting possibility. And part of me really wants to try.
I sleep terribly.
It’s the kind of night where your brain refuses to shut up entirely. Every time I drift off, the same thought comes back.
Emergency try-outs.
By the time morning light leaks through the dorm window, I’m already exhausted.
The idea should have faded overnight. Most ridiculous ideas do once you’ve had a few hours of sleep.
This one hasn’t.
Willow is sitting at the small table in the corner, eating cereal from a ridiculously large bowl. She looks up when I enter, spoon halfway to her mouth.
Then she lowers the spoon slowly.
“Oh my god,” she says.
I drop into the chair opposite her. “Don’t start.”
“You’re thinking about it.”
Katie is still asleep which means we’re without our voice of reason.
I drag a hand through my hair.
“This is insane,” I say, just to state the obvious.
Willow nods. “Yes.”
“It’s dishonest.”
Another nod. “Also, yes.”
“And if anyone finds out-”
