Apollo
“Hey, Apollo.” It’s rare for Ares to call to me directly from his crease during warmup. He’s always focused. All focus, all the time. It’s a goalie thing.
I watched a video of him playing pee wee where he stood in the crease, mic’d up, telling himself to focus over and over and over.If you don’t focus, you’ll let everyone down and you’ll lose, Ares. Don’t lose your focus.
Of course, he was so busy focusing on staying focused, he had his ass handed to him. Talk about a lot of pressure to put on yourself at nine years old. But there’s a reason the NHL will court him soon. He’s pushed himself to be the best. And as his big brother, I’m proud to say he is.
Fuck.
I have no time to get emotional or reminisce about old times. It’s me who needs to fucking focus.
Artemis skates up beside me and taps me on the ass with his twig. “Eleven o’clock, at the glass.”
I want to punch him. He knows I have no time for bunnies, I’m with Edi—
Oh my god, she’s here. Like, right there, in the stands, staring back at me. She’s sitting at the plexi. Her long, golden hair is pulled into a high ponytail on top of her head, and she has giant satin black and green hair ties holding it up.
She has face paint on her cheeks, a brilliant smile on her face, and my last season’s game worn Raccoon’s jersey on her back.
She stands up, sways a little as the blood rushes to her still-casted leg, and holds up a sign that says,#17 you give me that end of the third, tied game, powerplay hattrick kind of feeling.
I almost fall over from laughing. My funny, sassy girl is right there at the plexi, watching me chase my dreams while her own are murky and uncertain.
I’m a strong-ass man, but that almost undoes me on the spot. Fuck. I swallow, trying to clear the lump in my throat.
Artemis nudges me again. “Go see your girl,hermano.”
I skate around the edge of the ice until I come to a stop in front of her. She drops her sign and covers her heart with both palms. “I’m so proud of you, Pollo,” she calls over the glass before blowing me a kiss.
If I were never to play hockey again for the rest of my life, I’ve peaked. This moment of support and solidarity, this moment of love, and encouragement with my girl has me so in my feels that it takes everything I have not to cry right here on the ice.
“Te amo, princesa.”
“Yo también te amo, príncipe de las tinieblas.”
I love when my girl brings the Spanish. And the hockey. I’ve gone from ball of weepy emotions, to wanting to rail her against the plexi in under thirty seconds.
She jerks her head to the warmups behind me. “Go get ’em.”
I salute, glove to forehead and as I head back to where my team is preparing for battle, I’m ready.
CHAPTER35
Edith
When Apollo hits the ice for the game, he looks more relaxed than I’ve seen him in, well, I guess forever. He skates my direction, cracking his stick off the plexi right in front of us. I blow him another kiss, toss back some pain meds with a slug of pop, and I’m ready to watch our boys win the championship.
Except Alabama wins the face off.
Assholes.
It’s fine. It’s totally okay. It’s the first puck drop, not the final one of the game with only seconds to go.
“Easy, tiger.” Athena pats me like that’ll magically wash away all the stress in my muscles. My leg throbs inside my cast, but other than the anthem, I’ve sat on my ass with my leg slung over Tori’s knees the whole time.
I’m really past this whole thing. Looking forward to the dumb boot, and then physical therapy in a few weeks. That’s my light at the end of the tunnel.
For a couple months after the accident, the light at the end of the tunnel was dancing again. I’ve had to rethink my entire life, not simply lower my expectations.
