It feels strange. This morning, I was breaking Isla’s heart and now I’m stepping onto the ice for a game, like my life isn’t currently in shambles. August skates past me, not saying a word as I adjust my gloves on my hands. I wouldn’t expect him to give me the time of day right now, but we both have to play and perform like everything around us doesn’t matter.
Despite our differences and me completely fucking him over, we have to play nicely together because our teammates are depending on us. Even though I’m sure he wants to beat my face in, we can’t hash it out again. Plus, I did exactly what he asked of me. Not only for him, but for her too.
I just hope I made the right decision.
I stretch my legs, skating as my body warms up, and the ice makes my legs cold. I can’t actually feel it, though. Nothing really seems to matter, not with this empty feeling in my chest. My heart left a hole in my rib cage when Isla took it with her. Usually, skating was the one thing that could distract me, to bring some sense of happiness back into my life, but even now, it just doesn’t quite reach the hollowness inside.
We skate around for a few more minutes before lining up in our positions for the puck drop. August leans down in front of the other center, his stick ready to meet the puck during the face-off. Tensions between us are still high and that’s going to be August’s driving force right now. He’s going to play like he’s never played before because he can’t take it out on me.
I glance up at the stands as I wait for the ref to come over to them. My eyes scan the seats and when I find the ones reserved for family, I notice my mom is sitting there, but Isla is nowhere to be seen. My heart sinks. I shouldn’t have expected her to be here, but it would have been nice to see her again.
Especially because now I’m going to have to move out of that fucking apartment. There’s no way I can live with her and August after everything that has happened. And I’m not going to have either of them be displaced. If anything, I’m the one to go. Thankfully, my mom moved to the city when I left for school, so when I talked to her this morning, she said I could come stay at her and my stepfather Owen’s house.
I’m too distracted when the puck drops and August wins the face-off. I don’t notice until the puck slides across the ice, completely missing the blade of my stick as I stare absentmindedly at the empty seats.
“What the fuck, Knight?” Sterling barks at me as he skates past me. “Get your head out of your ass.”
I swallow hard, the frustration burning in my veins as I nod at him before pushing off on my skates. Thankfully, Cam grabbed the puck before the other team did and turned it around, skating toward their goal as he passes it to August in the center of the arena. Shaking my head at myself, I push away the thoughts of Isla and focus on the task at hand.
This might not be an important game, but if you treat every one like it’s similar to a playoff game, it helps keep your head in it and out of the clouds. There comes a time where you have to leave everything else off the ice and the only thing that matters is the stick in your hand and the puck sliding across the ice.
Putting my head down, I skate toward the blue line, hanging back as I watch our offense pass the puck back and forth before the right wing from the other team slaps it away from them. It comes soaring down my way and I skate after it, sliding my stick along it as I take the puck around the back of the net. Asher, our goalie, nods at me and the ref blows the whistle for an icing.
Stickhandling the puck, my skates effortlessly slide over the ice as I look for someone to pass it to. The other team’s offense is right in my face and I see August hanging by the center. I slice the puck, sending it over to him as he spins around with it, slipping past the player on him. He’s wide open and skates his ass off as he makes a break for it.
He glances around and Cam isn’t far behind him, but there’s no sense in passing it. Cam is shouting at him to shoot the puck and the other team’s goalie drops down into a butterfly stance in an attempt to block August’s shot. He swipes his stick, lifting the puck as he sends it directly into the top shelf of the net.
The horn sounds and everyone in the stands starts yelling. August pumps his fist in the air, skating around in a circle as everyone on our team goes up to congratulate him like he had just scored the game-winning goal. That’s how it is with a team that’s like family. We celebrate every fucking victory.
I’m the last one in the small line and I skate over to August, tapping the top of his helmet with my glove. “Nice shot, man.”
He stares at me through his cage and I see the corners of his lips tilt upward in the slightest bit. “Thanks, bro.” He nods at me, his eyes different from earlier. Softer. I watch him as he skates back to the center ice and I take my position by the blue line again, waiting for the puck to drop.
The puck drops and August wins the face-off, sending it back to me. I head toward the center of the rink before passing it as someone yells shift change from the bench. August and I skate off the ice together, hopping over the boards as Simon and Greyson take our places on the ice.
Grabbing a bottle of water, I pour some into my mouth through the cage of my helmet as August does the same. We both sit in silence for a moment, staring out at the ice as we watch our teammates fight for the puck.
I look over to say something to him, just as Sterling gets slammed into the boards on the other side of the rink by the opposing team. I rise to my feet, staring out as he drops to the ice before getting back up. “What the fuck! That was a dirty-ass hit and the refs really aren’t going to call that shit?!”
“Of course not,” August mutters, shaking his head in disgust as he rises to his skates beside me. “That was complete bullshit.”
I glance up at the scoreboard, noting there’s still nine minutes left in the period and it isn’t close to my time to get back on the ice, but my blood boils from the dirty hit. Sterling is skating slower than he was before he got hit. My eyes find the 27 on the back of the jersey who hit him.
“Shift change!” I bellow, slapping my stick against the boards. My ass is already about to hop over them before Greyson skates back over. “Fucking shift change!”
Greyson is barely over the boards as I’m hopping out onto the ice, my eyes locked on Number 27 skating toward their net as Simon barrels toward it. I need to hang back and collect myself. I can’t go into this and beat the shit out of him, but he got away with a dirty-ass hit and even though the refs didn’t call it, I’m not letting that shit fly.
Their goaltender catches the puck as Simon sends it flying toward him, and the ref blows his whistle. I skate toward the center of the rink as they line up for a face-off closer to the goal. Number 27 isn’t far from me and I’m coming for that motherfucker this time.
I watch Sterling skate over and hop onto the bench as Leander gets in the lineup. The puck drops and the other team wins the face-off. Their center skates down the middle and I see Number 27 coming closer to me as I skate closer to the net to defend it. Moving across the ice, I come up beside him, checking him hard into the boards as I steal the puck from him.
“Fuck!” he yells out in anger as I skate away, passing the puck to Simon who is closer to the center ice. He gets my pass and heads back down the rink toward their goal. Number 27 glares at me before skating away. “You’re fucking done,” he calls over his shoulder.
A smile creeps onto my lips and I skate after them, hanging back a bit as the puck is in the offensive zone. He’s got it all wrong. He acts like he’s going to do some shit to me, but I’m the one who has unfinished business with him. I wait for them, watching as they fight over the puck. I slowly start to skate backward as they move back toward our net.
Number 27 has the puck and instead of going toward the net, he’s barreling straight toward me. I wait until he’s literally inches from me before I duck out of the way and he sends himself into the boards. He slams into them with a loud smack, falling to his knees for a moment. A laugh rumbles in my chest and I shake my head at his stupidity.
He’s really fucking targeting me, but he managed to knock himself down without me having to touch him.
“Shift change!” someone yells from our bench and I glance over to see who it is. August is standing there, waving me to come back, but I shake my head and glance up at the stands.
I don’t know what compels me to do it, but it’s almost as if I could feel her eyes on me, even with so much distance between us. My eyes look up to where my mother is and much to my surprise, I find Isla sitting next to her.
A smile creeps onto my lips, even though I know I shouldn’t be smiling, but I’m fucking elated seeing her here. The girl who occupies every thought inside my head.
“LOGAN!” August’s voice is loud, but I almost don’t hear it over how deafening the game is. “LOOK OUT!”
I glance down at him, my eyebrows drawn together before I look to my right, just as Number 27 comes flying toward me. There’s not enough time to get out of his way and he completely body slams into me, with such a dirty fucking hit as he violently shoves me into the boards.
I don’t anticipate the full force of his hit and my head slams into the glass before I have the chance to brace myself for any of it. Even my helmet isn’t enough to stop the instant whiplash that I get. Time feels as if it’s suspended as the corners of my vision are black and rapidly closing in on me as I fall in slow motion.
Everything goes dark before I hit the ice.
