by Daphne Slade
“It is, which makes him being so ridiculous over all of this even more stupid. It’s like he’s trying to sabotage everything for the sake of his ego. All when he was the one to basically dump me at the end of last year. Now, he acts like he didn’t spend all summer plotting his escape.”
A wrinkle of sympathy creases Jenny’s brow. “Give it time, I’m sure he’ll get over it. Hell, he probably has a harem of girls already lined up to take care of that ego.”
I lift my brow in acknowledgment of that fact. He is after all a Devington hockey player. On this campus that’s as good as being in the pros.
“I can join you at the bar again. Who needs to see it live? I’m kind of preferring it. All those screaming fans and worse, the puck bunnies side-eyeing me.”
I smile in appreciation. “I mean, it would be great to have more people around. I have a feeling it’ll be pretty dead for the first home game of the season.”
“No problem.”
Professor Kardos comes in and we shift our attention to him. I put all thoughts of Matt, the missing paper, and even the excitement of tomorrow’s game aside to focus. Now, more than ever I need to do well in this class.
Chapter Forty
Noah
I was surprised at how well Matt kept his cool the rest of the week after dropping that bomb Monday. We can no longer be considered friends and he makes sure to greet me with a scowl, but we both know that this hockey season is important.
It isn’t until our first home game on Friday that I realize just how much he has been letting it fester underneath the surface.
Most of the team has remained neutral, understandably seeing both sides of the issue.
I dismiss that to focus on the game now that the national anthem has been sung and we’re skating into position.
The arena is crazy packed. For the first home game, Devington made sure the tickets were cheap for all students and employees of the school, which means not a single empty seat. All around us is a sea of blue, drowning out the few spots of green from Michigan State.
The group of female aficionados has set up camp in their usual spot right behind the bench, mostly behind the penalty box. Puck bunnies seem to particularly like the bad boys. On the other side of the aisle behind the bench are the girlfriends and family of team members.
Once upon a time, Grace sat there cheering on Matt. I remember how heated she’d get, stepping out of character from that sophisticated and quiet girl into a raging maniac screaming her head off. It only made me even crazier about her.
I’m pissed that she can’t be here for the first home game, but she more than understands. Something that makes me love her even more.
Devington gets control of the puck after the drop and I rapidly skate out of the neutral zone. I may have a tiny bit of superstition about this sort of thing so I feel good about how it’s started, despite it not working out so well against Notre Dame during the first game of the Ice Breaker.
By the end of the first period, I’ve managed a goal for Devington and we’re in the lead.
The energy in the crowd is electric, broadening the grins on the faces of each Devil as we skate off the ice. More than a few of my teammates are happy to bask in the glow of female attention from behind the bench.
My mind is only focused on one girl, now sitting in the Den of Iniquity watching with her friends. It still kills me that she can’t be one of those faces shouting out her congratulations as well.
My spirits are lifted as I think about how we can celebrate after the game.
In the locker room, those of us who just finished playing strip off as much as we can before putting it back on again in the few minutes we have. It’s a rigorous sport and we wear about twenty pieces of equipment, which leaves us an overheated sweaty mess.
“Good one, Noah!” Reid shouts, his dark hair plastered to his forehead.
“Not so bad yourself. Good saves, Reid.”
“Well, I’ve got the best defense money can buy,” he says, clapping Cole and Matt on the shoulders. His eyes go wide. “Oh shit, did I accidentally let it slip I was bribing these two to win?”
He likes to joke and Cole shrugs it off with his usual stoic indifference. Matt, who is usually game to at least chuckle at Reid’s antics, just scowls. Because we all know he let a few obvious shots slip by him tonight. If not for having such a great goalie, we probably wouldn’t be ahead.
Coach Egler is the only one to actually come out and say it though. Matt looks appropriately admonished and I think about doing my usual to bolster a fellow teammate up. In this case, I know I’ll do more harm than good.
Cole subtly gives me a look and takes Matt off to the side himself for a quiet pep talk.
Fine, let him deal with it. I’m done coddling the guy, especially if he costs me this season.
It’s during the second period when it all comes to a head. That first period and me scoring a goal was no doubt the straw that broke the camel’s back.
At first, it seems as though Cole’s talk worked and Matt stepped up his game. After a good five minutes of play, he rescues the puck from the other team and skates it back toward the neutral zone. He’s headed right toward me and I brace myself for the pass. Instead, he continues barreling toward me, which is stupid since the defense from Michigan State are catching up to him.
What the hell is he doing?
I skate closer toward him, encouraging a pass. The opposing player makes a run at Matt and he deftly swivels to avoid it then speeds even faster toward me. That’s enough to have the second player headed his way make contact.
Somehow, it ends up in a jumbled mess, both of them colliding into me. I don’t even know how it happened since I wasn’t that close to them. We all end up against the boards in a messy pile.
It’s all over in a matter of seconds but when the dust settles, Matt is at the bottom of that pile screaming his head off. The referee has stopped the play, being that we had control of the puck.
I work myself up into a standing position and reach out to help the Michigan State player off Matt.
We both exchange WTF expressions—because seriously, what the fuck just happened?—before turning our attention back to Matt.
My “WTF” expression turns into an “oh shit” when I see the awkward angle his leg is at.
It doesn’t take long for the other players to skate over and take a look. Even the fans have gathered against the glass to peer at the spectacle as Matt howls and grips his knee above where the leg below is twisted out of alignment.
A hum of dread and excitement ripples throughout the arena. It grows more fervent when the medical team is brought onto the ice to carry him away.
I’m still feeling the shock of it when the ref allows the game to continue. As much as I dislike Matt I would never have wished such a fate for him. His chances at the NHL were slim to none, considering how hit-and-miss his game has been this year. Now, he’ll be lucky to even finish out the season here at Devington.
The other, far more problematic thought also wages war in the back of my head, making it difficult to focus: That Matt’s original plan was for me to end up on that stretcher.
Chapter Forty-One
Grace
The Den of Iniquity has gone silent.
It wasn’t nearly as full as it was during the Ice Breaker Tournament, but those of us here have been having an even more enjoyable time.
It was fun to watch when the place was packed wall-to-wall, but with fewer people to handle, the staff and customers were more like a large family watching and cheering together.
“Oh my god!” Ashely is the first to break the silence, reflecting the thoughts of all of us when the camera managed to catch a glimpse of Matt’s grotesquely twisted leg. It looked like something was dislocated.
I invited her again, despite the snafu with my paper, mostly to let her know that I don’t blame her. Shit happens, and in retrospect, that talk with Professor Kardos has been working around in my head enough for me
to seriously rethink medical school. His words hurt, but they were the kind of brutal honesty I needed. I should probably come to a decision soon since interviews will be happening in a few weeks.
Right now, my focus is on the screen like everyone else’s.
I’m only half-ashamed to admit that I breathed an internal sigh of relief that it wasn’t Noah being carried out on that stretcher.
“What the heck was that play anyway?” Clark says. “He had the perfect opening to pass.”
“Babe,” Erin says, slapping him in the chest with the back of her hand. She tilts her head my way and gives him a meaningful look.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, looking abashed.
“It’s fine,” I say, even though I had the same thought as him. To me it looked as though Matt was gunning for Noah, even waiting for a player to crash into him so he could maneuver closer to him.
“At least Noah is okay,” Heidi says, as she stops by, giving me a hopeful smile. “It looks like it could have been a lot worse.”
I didn’t want to be the one to say as much, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same. If it was just Erin and me, maybe Clark, because I know him so well by this point, I’d have no problem agreeing with her.
“Yeah but, poor Matt,” Jenny says, a crease in her forehead and frown on her face as she watches the screen. “That looked like a patella dislocation. So much for the NHL.”
Of course, Jenny would know what it is just from looking at it.
That’s enough for me to feel a tiny ripple of sympathy for Matt, even after all he’s done. His chances were unlikely, but at least he could have held on to some hope. Now, what does he have? If his grades are as bad as Noah said they were, he doesn’t even have that to fall back on.
Sometimes when karma bites, it sinks its teeth in deep.
The Devils won the game, despite the setback of Matt’s injury. His replacement played his heart out to make up for it though. The crowd seemed to treat it as some tribute to Matt, cheering wildly, which I suppose is the best outcome.
Now, I’m at Noah’s apartment, appearances be damned. Looking at him on the couch next to me, he needed the support tonight.
“It was just such a stupid play. Why the hell didn’t he just pass?” Noah says, leaning his elbows on his knees and grabbing his hair.
I continue to rub his back, but stay silent. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure Matt was trying to sabotage him.
“Did they tell you anything about his injury?”
Noah shakes his head. “Our assistant coach went to the hospital with him, and Coach Egler didn’t tell us the details. I saw his leg, Grace. No way is he playing at least the next few games.”
I hate myself for the sigh of relief I silently breathe out. No more chances to try and injure Noah.
“Hey,” I say, gently reaching out to take his chin in my hands and turn him to face me. “This wasn’t your fault Noah. It’s okay to feel bad for what happened to Matt. Even I do. But this was a fluke, nothing to do with you.”
“I know,” he says, still looking upset.
“You can’t let this deter you from your own goals. You’ve got another game tomorrow that you’ve got to think about.”
A weak smile comes to his face. “You my coach now? Telling me to keep my head in the game?”
I smile back. “Someone’s got to give you some real talk.”
That makes me think of Professor Kardos. Maybe Noah isn’t the only one who needs to pay attention to some frank advice.
“Matt still has the support of his team, including you it seems. He’s going to need that as he recovers. But do you honestly think it’s going to make him feel better watching you guys lose because you’re all still so torn up about what happened to him?”
Knowing what I do about Matt, I honestly think he’d be happy to believe that without him they’d suck. Best to present it this way, though.
“You’re right,” he says, sitting up and falling back against the seat. He reaches out an arm to draw me to his side. I love the way I fit against his solid build—mostly the way he so eagerly welcomes it.
“How did I end up with the best girlfriend in the world?”
I laugh softly. “The same way I ended up with the best boyfriend in the world. Some things are worth waiting for.”
He kisses my forehead.
I grin and tilt my head up to return a kiss on his mouth, not wanting to waste those perfect lips of his on something that innocent.
“Mmm,” he hums. “Come to the game tomorrow.”
“What?” I say, pulling back slightly.
“Come, I want you there. I’m sick of having to hide you away. And, well, Matt won’t be there.”
“Won’t that seem a bit mercenary? Taking advantage of the fact that he’s injured?”
“I don’t care.”
“I do. And I doubt I’d be the only one. Let’s just give it some time. We have the whole season to ease into it. No need to shake it up too soon. Besides, the Den of Iniquity is kind of fun.”
“You and Heidi still playing footsie behind my back?” He asks with a grin.
“She’s a sweet girl,” I say with a smile. “She was really worried about you tonight.”
“Was she?” A mildly surprised look comes across his face. Then a grin appears. “And that doesn’t make you jealous?”
I smile and come closer, eventually straddling his lap. “I think we’re well past the jealousy game, no? I know I have nothing to worry about with you.”
“Yes, but what about me? You two seem to be getting awfully close.”
I smile and wriggle my nose. “She’s not my type. Though, I do have to say, those Devil’s Kisses she keeps plying me with make me feel perfectly wicked.”
“Wicked, hmm?”
“Yeah, and maybe a bit feisty.”
“Ohh, in which case, keep on playing footsie with her. I like you this way.”
I laugh before he silences it with a kiss, definitely putting those devilish lips to good use.
Chapter Forty-Two
Noah
Saturday morning, it isn’t just Grace having spent the night that has me heading to practice later than my usual early start. Today, I’d rather arrive with the team. Solidarity over everything.
I exit my apartment at the same time as Cole and Evan and several others.
“You doing okay?” Cole asks, scrutinizing me.
“Yeah, I just want to make sure everyone else is too,” I say, looking from one player to the next.
Cole, Evan, and I fall behind, being that we’re closest with one another as starting players who are all seniors.
“It was an accident, man,” Evan says. “Nothing you could have done.”
I nod slowly.
“Though…” Evan continues, sliding his eyes to Cole. “It was a pretty shitty play Matt made.”
Cole remains silent, obviously feeling some solidarity with his fellow defenseman, but I see the way his gray eyes harden along with his jaw. A sure sign he agrees with Evan’s sentiment.
“Hey!” I hear Reid say behind us as he catches up in a jog. “We discussing the obvious?”
“Just making sure the team is okay,” I say.
“Oh fuck that. We all saw what happened.”
“Reid,” I say in a warning tone, casting a quick glance at Cole.
“What? At best it was a dumb-ass play when he coulda just passed. At worst, he had it in for you. I can’t believe I’m the only one to say it.”
“Reid, don’t,” I say, even though I agree with him. Accusing another player of something like that does nothing for morale. Especially since I’m partially responsible for Matt being pissed at me in the first place.
“No, Reid is right,” Cole says with a sigh. “I didn’t want to say it because I only saw part of it, but after looking at the replay, there’s only one obvious conclusion.”
I stop and turn to them, causing the three of them to stop as well. “Okay, let’s just stop
this right now. Whatever your thoughts on the matter, and whether I agree or not, we keep this shit to ourselves. We’re seniors and part of the starting lineup. The rest of the team looks up to us, which means no gossip, rumors, or speculation, especially about another teammate, no matter how likely it is. All the more so since Matt isn’t here to defend himself. The fact is, I came out of it unscathed, he didn’t. We’ll leave it at that and move on.”
I give the three of them a hard look, Evan and Cole especially. “We all need to perform our best this season so let’s focus on that.”
They all nod, their expressions telling me they’ll drop it.
“Okay, let’s get to practice.”
After getting changed and heading out to the ice, Coach Egler lines us all up to give a similar pep talk to the team.
“I know you’re all wondering what happened to Parks last night.” He sighs before continuing. “It was a patella dislocation. He’s going to be out of commission for at least the next six weeks. He may not finish the season.”
A murmur ripples through the team lined up in front of him, a mixture of surprise, disappointment, and sympathy.
“Hell,” Evan says next to me. “That sucks.”
“Yeah,” I say, really feeling sorry for the guy, even if it was his own damn fault.
“What happened was an accident.” I note the quick but guilty look Coach shoots my way before moving on. “Just be grateful more of your teammates didn’t get injured.
“But at the same time, let it be a lesson on playing the game right. Just because you’re at a D1 school, and at least a few of you have hopes of going pro, that’s no excuse to hog the puck or get cocky on the ice. We’re a team, we play like one.”
So he’s chucking it up to Matt wanting the glory instead of something more malicious. I’m fine with that. Hell, it is a good lesson on working as a team. If Matt had just passed the puck, he’d be right here with us.
