“You should tell me when one of your matches is. I could come watch.”
Oh my god. I’ve accidentally created a completely fictional sports career.
“That would be great,” I say weakly. “But really it’s just for fun.”
She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
“I’m glad you found something. You’ve always been so competitive - you need to channel it somewhere.”
And the truth is I have channeled my competitiveness somewhere.
Just not the thing she thinks.
ZANE
My business textbook sits open on the desk in front of me.
Technically I’m studying.
In reality I’ve been staring at the same paragraph for ten minutes.
Market forecasting.
Thrilling.
I drag a hand through my hair and glance at the clock on the wall.
Mid-October.
The season has barely started and we’ve lost every single game so far.
It’s not supposed to look like this.
College hockey moves fast. If you want scouts to notice you, the early games matter. They set the tone. They tell people whether you’re worth watching when winter rolls around.
And right now?
No one’s watching.
Business is supposed to be the backup plan.
The thing I fall back on if hockey doesn’t work out.
But the whole point of a backup plan is that you’re not supposed to need it yet.
The season keeps replaying in my head.
That stupid losing streak is hanging over every game we play.
I grab my phone and scroll through the schedule again.
Loss.
Loss.
Loss.
Loss.
