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A sort of melancholy followed Coach Murray’s departure. He had thanked us many more times for our devotion and once again credited our success to our unity. In the wake of his announcement and his words, I wondered about the unity he spoke of. For the most part, I felt like an outsider, even though I had arrived here knowing Beckett and Jordan, and then getting to know Caden and the rest of them very well over time. Phoenix, for example, had come here with zero previous connections, but he had blended in and became a crucial part of the team.
“Who do you think is gonna coach us next year?” I asked him as we all left the oddly silent locker room.
“No idea,” Phoenix said. “I don’t think anyone knows yet. Coach Murray would have said something if he knew, right?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t nervous. Not quite. It was the prospect of the unknown that made my stomach just a little uneasy. If the next one was a total psycho, we’d all be screwed. But what were the odds of that?
I decided to put that out of my mind. It wasn’t something I had any power over. It would have been nice to have one strong connection within the team now that we were heading into the unknown. It would have been good to have an ally. Then again, I had never had allies on my teams. The closest to that was George on the night I had come out to Mom. Aside from that one moment, I couldn’t remember anyone ever sticking up for me.
Again, I glanced at Jordan. My stepbrother could have played that role. Had he forged a friendship with me, maybe I wouldn’t feel as lost as I did right now.
It didn’t matter. Another summer break meant we wouldn’t see each other for a while. He was going with Beckett while Caden visited his family, and then the three were supposed to spend a week together. If Jordan visited us at the lake house, it would be for the shortest time ever because he planned to return to Northwood and use the opportunity to prepare for his senior year.
I hadn’t decided yet what to do with myself this summer. Mid-August would see me back here for conditioning and warmups, but what I was supposed to do all of June and July was still a mystery. So, I forced all thoughts of Jordan out of my head. I would see him again at the end of July or in August. Until then, all kinds of things could happen. Nothing was off the table. There was even a chance I would return to Northwood and not hurt every time he entered the room I was in.
There was a chance I would get over him once and for all.
It was a hopeful thought. Was it likely? I didn’t know. I wanted to believe so. No matter how hard I had tried, the proximity to him in the team house reshuffled all of my feelings this year. The low-burning hatred blazed whenever he acted like an ass, but the attraction had never been stronger.
He simultaneously pushed me away and pulled me in. And the worst part was that he had no goddamn idea he was doing it. In one moment, he would chide me for copying his technique on the ice, which fit his physique much better than mine; in the next, he clasped my shoulder and told me I was right about the team dynamics and the necessity for our captain and our best player to get along. That had been ages ago — before Beckett and Caden discovered a way to reconcile their differences — but the praise remained etched into my heart and memory like it had happened this morning.
I attended the party after our final game, but only for a short while. It was hard to watch Caden and Beckett bicker while never missing a chance for physical contact. Their hands kept brushing one another’s hair or face or arms. They kept glancing at one another with an underlying sadness. I knew what pained them. They were going to be apart for a time. It would be the first time since they got together. They dreaded it.
On the other side of the joined tables, Sawyer and Noah acted like newlyweds. It kept reminding me of all the things I didn’t have.
Later, when I lay in my room alone because my roommate, Phoenix, had stayed out late, I told myself that some distance from college would help. I would have to suffer through Mom and George’s flirting, but that was easier than watching my teammates fulfill all of their romantic dreams while I sulked. Besides, Mom and George had passed the honeymoon phase long ago. Their flirting was nowhere near as obnoxious as it had been three or four years ago.
As soon as the morning came, I got up, brushed my teeth, had a cup of filter coffee, and began packing. I was leaving the next day, but I wanted to be packed and ready. I might cave in tonight and install an app or two for the sake of a long, dry summer that awaited me. I might go out with someone. I wasn’t sure.
Midway through packing my suitcase, my stomach rumbled, and I left the room to make myself a grilled cheese. Downstairs, in the kitchen of our team house, Beckett was sitting at the kitchen island with Caden holding his shoulder, frowning. They were alone and saw me as I came down, so I couldn’t sneak back and give them privacy. But whatever was going on had to be bad because Beckett’s frown was twice as deep as Caden’s, his phone pressed hard against his ear, his head shaking. “…understand. How could that happen? And how bad is it?”
Caden nodded at me not to worry about intruding. I walked over to the fridge, found milk, poured it over a bowl of cereal to spend as little time as possible in the middle of their private moment, and searched for a spoon when Beckett startled me.
“Goddamn son of a bitch!” His pained voice made me spin around and he slammed his open hand against the counter. He set his phone on the kitchen island next to a full bowl of cereal and shook his head desperately.
Caden squeezed his shoulder harder. “Tell me.”
Beckett’s eyes were blurring with tears before he shut them. “It’s Uncle Nate…”
Caden’s breath hitched. “What happened?”
An endless moment passed before Beckett inhaled again. I stood, stunned, and watched Beckett Partridge search for words. “Last night…” He paused and shook his head. “…they were playing a friendly game when someone checked him. But it was rough. And I mean rough. He slammed my uncle against the boards so hard that it broke his collarbone.”
Caden and I both sucked a sharp breath of air. I could feel the pain flash in my collarbone.
“Gave him a concussion, too,” Beckett said in a tight voice. “That goddamn motherfucker.”
“Babe,” Caden whispered, pulling Beckett in for a tight hug.
Our captain sobbed into his boyfriend’s chest, his back and shoulders shaking. Caden glanced at me half-sympathetically and half-apologetically as if it was an inconvenience for me. But my heart broke for the poor guys. All of them. I’d never found a lot of love for Beckett Partridge and his cocky antics, but I respected his captaincy. And Caden was a friend to me when nobody else was. Nate Partridge, though, was a superstar and an inspiration to many of the guys who lived in this house. If he was hurt, we all felt it.
“I’m so sorry,” I said lamely, not sure what else to say. As if words could make anything better. “Will he be alright?”
Beckett straightened, pulling himself together and shrugging while shaking his head. “Thanks.” He sniffed. “I don’t know. His life’s not in danger.”
We all knew what was left unsaid. Being alive wasn’t the same as being alright. How well would he heal? And would he ever play again? I nodded with sympathy for Beckett and his uncle, then carried my breakfast to my room.
It haunted me, this phantom pain in my collarbone. I feared a thing like that happening to anyone. Even the thought of it made me roll my shoulders and make sure my collarbones were intact. It was hard to finish packing and my mood for anything more than going to bed early disappeared completely after the news.
