I’m not sure why but my head starts shaking before I say the words. “Nope. Not gonna go.”
“Ty, we’re not doing that. I won’t let you,” she says as she takes a step back. “You told me not long ago that you felt most alive, even free, when you’re on the ice. Nothing else matters there, right?”
I clench my jaw reactively, because she’s right. On the ice, there’s no guessing games. No hearing myself think. No trying to keep up with conversations moving too fast or expressions I can’t quite read. Hockey makes sense. Movement. Instinct. Repetition. The sharp scrape of blades carving into fresh ice.
But today, even that glorious feeling is a tangled mess, twisted up with my thoughts. Vivian. The alley. Kissing her. Wanting to be there for her. And then, the stacking incident that sent my brain into a full shutdown spiral afterward because apparently feelings are now entering the chat like unwanted pop-up ads.
“I’m tired,” I mutter weakly.
Emma snorts. “You’re depressed.”
“I’m not depressed.”
“You texted me two nights ago when you reorganized your kitchen cabinets at two in the morning.”
“That was productive.”
“Ty, I call it concerning,” she says, crossing her arms tightly across her chest to punctuate her words.
I glare at her while she continues looking entirely too satisfied with herself.
“You need to get out of your own head,” she says more gently now. “And you love those guys. Even Owen, which frankly raises questions about your judgment.”
A reluctant laugh pulls at my mouth before I can stop it.
“There he is,” she says immediately, pointing at me. “That’s the first almost-smile I’ve seen from you.”
“I don’t have to smile all the time.”
“Let’s face it. You’re gonna get further in life with a smile as opposed to a grimace."
I roll my eyes. This is Emma. “You are so dramatic.”
“I’m your sister. Drama is part of the job description.”
Chuckling again, I let my gaze drop back to the phone. Campbell’s already sent three follow-up messages.
Campbell:
I will punish anyone who does not come for years.
YEARS!
And I really mean it.
Owen:
I need a gif of a man dramatically collapsing onto ice.
Liam:
Pls, all of you, come before Campbell discovers conditioning drills.
Another laugh escapes me, and Emma bumps my shoulder lightly. “Go skate, Ty.”
I exhale slowly through my nose. Maybe she’s right. Maybefor an hour or two, I can stop thinking so hard about everything and just move.
I type out a response before I can change my mind.
