“Don’t bet against hockey.”
“Please don’t bet any money,” I beg.
“Too late—already got my retirement check on the game.” He grins at me.
“Well,” I tell him, “at the very least, I broke up with Fletcher. So that’s one less thing you have to worry about.”
“Your mom’s going to be upset to hear that—she’s already started sewing baby gear. Besides”—Nate smiles at me—“you might want to rethink that. I think you’re going to want him on the team.”
“He won’t respond to me—he disconnected his phone number.”
“The way he played hockey? He loves the sport. I’ve been in the NHL—trust me, he’s not done with hockey.” My dad pauses in the doorway. “And I saw the way he looked at you. He’s not done with you either. He’ll be back.”
34
FLETCHER
“Well, well, well. Look what the Zamboni dragged in,” Zayne rasps, swirling a bottle in his hand.
I drop my bag on the floor and climb up to sit in the stands next to him. “We have a game tonight. Where else would I be?”
Zayne picks up the bottle, doesn’t drink it, just looks at it—the bright high bay lights reflecting off the bronze liquid inside. “Why’d you come back?”
I shrug. “It’s the NHL. It’s hockey. This is my team.”
“Huh. So not for Ellie?”
The name punches through my chest. “No,” I snap.
I think about Eddie on the TV. Eddie who we’re going to play tonight. I’m going to break Eddie’s face. And I’m not losing another hockey game.
“Ah, hockey.”
“Hockey is everything,” I remind him. “It’s all I have. I want to be like you.” I sigh. “Always did—play in the NHL, get paid to play, to dedicate my life to being the best. Your whole life is just pure hockey, and it’s perfect. Winning cups, the endorsements,everyone worships you.” I wrap my arms around my knees. “If the team is moving, this is it. This is all the hockey I have left.”
“You know,” Zayne says after a moment, “I was engaged once. A long time ago. Was supposed to get married, have a family.”
“Oh yeah?” I squint. “I vaguely remember that. It was a while ago, right?”
“She wanted to get married immediately. I kept putting it off. There was another Stanley Cup to chase, the Olympics, Worlds. She waited and waited. I kept promising her I’d retire. We’d start a family when I retired—that’s what I said.” He takes another swig from the bottle. “But every year, I thought, what’s one more season? I’ll quit when I win four cups, when I win a second gold medal, just one more playoff.” He trails off.
“I wasn’t ready to quit. And now it’s all I have.” He swirls the bottle. “She finally left me. I didn’t even realize it for a week.” He laughs bitterly. “Now she’s with another guy. Pregnant with their second child. They go to Disney for family vacations. Cute kids. Throw big holiday parties… You don’t want to be like me, Fletch. I promise.” He lifts the bottle to his lips. “Don’t sacrifice your life for hockey. Hockey doesn’t keep you warm at night.”
“Maybe you should take your own advice.” I reach out gently and take the bottle from him.
I throw it. It lands in the trash can. Nothing but net.
“You have to find happiness where you can get it, when you can get it.” Zayne slaps me on the shoulder.
I think of Ellie. Think of the team, how this is it—not just the end but the epilogue. “I’m not sure I can get it anywhere. Might have blown it,” I admit.
Zayne gives me a knowing smile. “When you’re young, you think love just shows up when it’s convenient. But then you wake up, and you’re old. Don’t just give it up when you find it.”
“You’re not old. You’re not even forty,” I remind him.
“I’m an eldritch terror in hockey years.”
I sling my arm around his shoulders and haul him up. He’s surprisingly steady. “Come on, let’s find the boys.”
