Jamie glances up from reviewing practice footage on a tablet. “Ignore them.”
Toby gasps. “Captain leadership has ruined your personality.”
“Somebody here needs one.”
I drop into my locker seat with a sigh. The familiar smells hit immediately: ice, sweat, rubber mats, sports disinfectants. For years this place has felt like home.
Now all I can think about is how Sweet Seasons Bakery smells like cinnamon rolls at dawn.
That realization unsettles me enough I immediately stand again. Toby notices instantly. “Oh no. He’s emotionally pacing.”
“Stop narrating my life.”
“Never.”
Liam tosses his phone aside. “So, what’s the move?”
I shrug one shoulder. “No idea.”
The room quiets slightly, because apparently everyone already knows that answer matters.
Jamie studies me for a long moment before asking quietly: “What are you really afraid of?”
The question lands harder than expected.
Because I already know the answer.
I stare down at my gloves sitting inside my locker.
For years hockey has been the center of everything: schedules, cities, relationships, choices.
You sacrifice enough for professional sports and eventually your entire life starts orbiting the game whether you want it to or not.
And suddenly I don’t know if I want it to anymore, not like before.
I exhale slowly. “I think I found something I don’t want hockey to take away from me.”
Silence. Complete silence.
Even Toby stops joking.
Jamie’s expression softens slightly like he already suspected this.
Liam whistles under his breath. “Oh, you’re gone-gone.”
“I hate that phrase.”
“It’s accurate though.”
Unfortunately, true.
Toby drops heavily onto the bench beside me. “Okay, but serious question.”
“That’s new.”
“When did this happen?”
I think about it honestly. Was it the festival? The school concert? Jillie asleep against my chest? Sadie laughing at my burned cinnamon rolls?
