I look back at Lucy and nod. “Okay. I’ll go.”
Mila squeezes my shoulders.
The girls exhale, and the room feels lighter. Lucy and Gianna offer gentle smiles. Penelope is nodding softly. Mara is looking at Mila. My heart squeezes at the thought of going to one of his games. I haven’t been to one in years.
“Tomorrow,” Mila whispers.
I nod. “Tomorrow.”
Chapter 14
Blue
Thetapeisthewrong color again.
I’m halfway through the second wrap when I notice the black tape on the blade because Benson moved the white roll to his own stall and didn’t put it back. I’m not going to ask for the white roll. I am also not going to get up and walk across the locker room and get it myself, because the way this room is right now, if I stand up, Stanley is going to remember I exist, and I don’t need that right now.
It’s ninety minutes to puck drop.
The room is loud. Walker is across from me on his fourth roll of tape because Walker tapes his stick like a man taping a Christmas package. Tate is doing his hip stretches on the rubber mat in the middle of the room with his AirPods in. Rowan is athis stall buckling his pads in. Percy is in the far corner with his mask off, staring at the floor, doing his pre-game thing.
I have slept maybe four hours. My mind won’t stop replaying the house meeting. I’m having a hard time believing that she broke up with her boyfriend, but they said that she said it. I can’t sit alone with the thought that she told my teammates, but she didn’t tell me.
I’m not going to think about any of it. I’m going to play hockey.
Benson and Stanley arrive together. I hear them before I see them — Stanley mid-rant in the hallway, Benson laughing, and then the door bangs open and Stanley says, loud enough that the whole room turns, “— and she literally swiped on me, Benson, like literally with her finger, on the screen, what is wrong with women —”
Benson, behind him, choking a laugh. Walker barks a laugh. Tate pulls one AirPod out. Stanley drops onto the bench across from me. His pad bag thumps. He’s grinning like a maniac.
“Baby Blue.”
“Sterm.”
That makes Walker cackle.
Stan side eyes him. “How we feeling tonight, buddy?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Just fine.”
He leans forward. “I’m asking how my favorite second-line winger is feeling about his home game.”
“I am feeling like you should tape your stick and leave me alone.”
“That’s not a great attitude, Goldie.” He turns to Benson. “That’s not the attitude of a winner, my brother.”
Benson, from his stall two down, drops a glove on the floor and reaches for it. Without looking up, he says, “Let the man tape his stick.”
“I am letting him tape his stick. I’m asking him about his feelings while he tapes his stick. This is a normal pre-game conversation. This is what supportive teammates do.”
I keep taping, and Stanley watches me for a second. He leans back. He folds his hands behind his head. “Just one question, Blue.”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what the question is.”
