“Why are you guys sitting in the dark?” it asks.
I can’t see anything, but I don’t need to. Because the low, smooth tone of Darcy’s voice is unmistakable. My body betrays me, and I collapse onto my stomach, groaning,“Fuuuuck.”
The light snaps back on, blinding everyone in an instant, the sudden shock sending the rest of the room crashing down too. I rub my eyes, trying to adjust to the abrupt brightness, fighting to clear the swirling spots in my vision.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, blinking away the floaty remnants of the light burn.
Darcy looks gorgeous as always, wrapped in her new coaching jacket, complete with the GU logo on the shoulder, and soft, flowy pants. I have to say, while I miss her old, tattered look, I’m not opposed to this one. She looks happier. More confident.
Beside me, Bailey points at her, yelling, “Witchcraft!” Darcy’s brows furrow in confusion, and a laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. She adds quickly, “In a good way.”
Darcy tilts her head, as if weighing the ethics of witchcraft, before answering me. “Coach wanted me to check on you guys. Said you’re supposed to be on the ice already.”
At that, everyone turns to Harlowe. She shrugs, her sweat-slicked hair sticking to her cheeks. “What?”
I sigh. “Weare,” I reply, shooting Harlowe a disapproving scowl. “ButYersiedecided to talk trash, and now we’re being punished with planks.”
“What the hell is going on in here?” Kaiser snaps, propping a hand on her hip as she steps through the doorway. Immediately, everyone cowers. And that’s not even a slight exaggeration.
Well,almosteveryone.
Darcy stays unfazed, her posture steady as she meets the glare. “Coach Cole needs them on the ice,” she explains coolly, the glint of the silver whistle around her neck catching the light as she shifts, putting herself between Kaiser and the rest of the room. She used to carry that thing around in her pocket, or have it looped around her clipboard.
Seeing her wear it… well, it does something to me.
If possible, Kaiser’s scowl deepens. “And I need themhereuntil they’re done.”
Darcy pauses for a split second, her gaze flicking briefly to me. I blink at her, confused at first, then finally realize what she’s silently communicating.
This is it. This ispartof it. Part of my role as captain.
Standing up for my team.
I take a breath, pushing myself to my feet. My legs scream in protest, the burn from the planks still fresh, but I stand tall, locking eyes with Kaiser.
“With all due respect, Coach,” I start, my voice steady even though she’s already trying to smite me with her eyes. “We already have limited time on the ice, and you’re taking it away from us.”
Every muscle in the room tenses, and Kaiser’s eyes narrow, her jaw tightening as she stares me down.
“That’s not up to you,Clarke,” she growls.
Heat creeps over my cheeks, but I don’t back down. I clear my throat, ready to stand my ground, ready to fight back for my team and make up for all the lost passes, all the selfish moves, all the times I let them get into trouble because I was too focused on myself, but before I can, that firm, beautiful voice cuts back in.
“It is now,” Darcy insists. “If you want to keep them here, take it up with Coach Cole.”
And with that, she spins around. It only takes one silent second for everyone to follow, funneling out of the room in an animated rush of apprehensive exhilaration. Lena’s cheering, Caydence looks begrudgingly pleased, and though Indie’s hazel eyes are so wide they might fall out, she lets out a tight, nervous giggle. As we parade to the locker room, I see Faith pat Darcy on the back.
“That was sick,” she praises, and Darcy’s face flushes.
As we all get ready for practice, the team is a bundle of excited murmurs and laughs. I’m sitting on the bench, tying my skates when Darcy approaches me, clipboard in hand. I tilt my head curiously, letting a grin take over my face.
“Haven’t seen that in a while.” I point to it with my chin. Darcy’s freckled lips quirk.
“Well, I figured I should probably start using it for actual plays and stuff,” she says. “You know, as coaches do.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I laugh, the sound trailing off awkwardly at the end. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to exist next to her. Every word that comes out of my mouth that isn’t “I am definitively and helplessly falling in love with you” just feels like the wrong ones to say. Gnawing at the dent in my cheek, I catch her eye. “You feeling okay?”
Her expression drops briefly, before she catches it, and schools herself into apathy.
