Matty claps my shoulders and says, “Think you guys can run away with this one? Save me the stress of a close one?” He fakes grabbing his chest.
“You got it. I’m scoring at least once in the first. Mark my words.”
Leo chimes on, “Let’s all score in the first!”
We hype each other up as we start to skate out to the boos of the crowd. It’s a little thin—I know it’s a weeknight, but damn.
All I can think about is how even if we all score in the first, there’s only one of us that will have Cora waiting for them. Me. And that’s all the pre-game adrenaline I need.
I’msettlinginonthe team flight, exhaustion seeping through my bones. We kicked their asses tonight with three of us, myself included, scoring in the first period. There wasn’t any significant stretch where we weren’t in control. And it feels good. Almost like I can take a full breath because it means our last game wasn’t a fluke. Everyone was better tonight, stepping it up and making it seem like we’re going to have one hell of a season.
One I desperately need.
I check my phone a final time before turning it off. It’s a picture from Cora. A selfie, her face resting on my pillow and my comforter pulled up to her chin. I’m in the window seat and I lean in to make sure no one can see my phone.
Me
taking off shortly
see you soon
Peaches
not soon enough
Chapter 42
CORA
IswearI’mgoingto go cross-eyed if I watch this film for another second. Between the spreadsheets, double-checking the data, and then confirming it all again on film, I’m running on fumes. I’m about two seconds away from turning into a full-blown zombie. It doesn’t help that someone has been keeping me up.
A knock at the door makes me jump, and it swings open before I can answer. Brinn and Piper step in a second later. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen them, and I can already tell they’re about to make a scene.
“She lives. I can barely believe it… Coralee Banks in the flesh.” Brinn’s voice carries through the living room. Before I can shush her, my mom steps in behind them.
“What? Hasn’t she been staying with you?” she asks, hands settling on her hips.
Brinn’s eyes flicker before she recovers. “Of course she has. I mean, she lives. Like… barely survived that brutal yoga flow she put us through this morning.” She lifts a leg like she’s stretching, as if that sells it.
I did teach yoga this morning, and both of them were there, but I’m pretty sure they spent half of the class flat on their mats. A whole lot of savasana. Piper at least tried. Brinn didn’t bother.
“We’re having a sleepover next week,” Piper cuts in, handing me an excuse like it’s nothing. What a saint.
Piper is the kind of person who knows everything happening on campus before it actually happens—parties, events, random Tuesday nights no one should know about. She’s already been invited, confirmed, andprobably convinced a few other people to come with her. It’s like she’s wired into Great Lakes U in a special way.
People call her a golden retriever, and honestly, it fits. Long blonde hair, bright smile, the kind of energy that pulls you in whether you want it to or not. She makes everyone feel like they matter, like they’re the reason she showed up.
Because Piper’s nice until she isn’t. Give her a reason to bite back, and she will—no hesitation, no soft landing, the type of response that makes you realize a second too late that you completely misread her.
Derek, her twin brother, is also at Great Lakes U. Same year, same campus, just a different kind of presence. He’s easygoing, steady, the type of guy who ends up friends with half the hockey team without even trying.
Between the two of them, there’s not a corner of Great Lakes U they don’t infiltrate, and somehow, everyone knows better than to underestimate either of them.
Brinn and I met her in a required public speaking class and instantly became friends. Piper was a freshman, Brinn and I were sophomores, and for the first couple weeks, I barely heard a word from her. That changed when we had to give speeches on a topic pulled from a hat. Some classmates kept talking through hers—she paused, gave them a look, but they didn’t seem to care. In the middle of her timed speech, she turned to the professor, apologized for what she was about to say, then casually asked the girls if they wouldn’t mind “getting the fuck out or shutting their mouths.” I swear the whole campus was talking about it. That’s kind of where her ‘don’t mess with me’ attitude came from.
My mom smiles sweetly and says, “I love when the three of you are here.” She walks back to the kitchen and Brinn is begging for forgiveness via a look plastered on her face.
“You have zero chill, I swear.” I lightly hit her arm as I grab my laptop and start walking upstairs to my room. I don’t know if I trust Brinn out in the open.
