I frown as the site of the Utica Utonagans opens up, my eyes scanning the most recent Tweet. My body catches on before my brain, fingers shaking as I reread the short text congratulating my twin brother on making it to the next stage of the tournament and wishing their rookie good luck for the upcoming games.
The Utonagans.
A farm team.
Signing Nate?
“What the fuck,” I breathe as I hectically try to return to our family conversation, my head suddenly swimming with a thousand unanswered questions.
***
“What. The. Fuck?!”
I burst into Nate’s dorm room like a hurricane. The door flings open with so much force it bounces off the wall. I’m so angry, I forgot to pretend to be my brother when I stormed past Marv.
Nate is sitting at his desk in front of his laptop, eyes wide when he takes me in. His damp hair is unstyled and wavy, a sign that he probably just stepped out of the showers. He’s also wearing his glasses. We must actually look alike right now, and the irony isn’t lost on me.
For a moment neither of us is saying a word, and then Nate springs into motion as he catches on to why I’m here. He’s making a careful step toward me while holding out both hands like he’s trying to calm a gunman.
“Nicky, Iet me explain–”
His words are interrupted by my high-pitched laugh. It sounds manic to my own ears, mirroring my jittery insides.
“Explain?Explain?!Damn right you’re going to explain! Fuck!”
“Nicko? Is that you?” Xander’s voice calls out from behind me. Instinctively, I turn toward it and find him exiting the bathroom, with a towel slung around his hips and wet hair dripping onto his naked shoulders. There’s a smile on his face that shatters as soon as he takes in the fury and hurt I’m so obviously wearing right now.
“Hey,” he says, his voice so soft, it makes me want to put my hands over Nate’s ears so I can pretend he’s using that tone just for me. “What happened?”
It’s right there, on the tip of my tongue, about to break out of me. All the confusion and fear and anger that smashed into me once I understood—reallyunderstood—that damned Tweet, with all its implications and consequences: Nate isn’t going to play for the New Jersey Pioneers next season.
He’s not going to go to the NHL. We won’t meet on the ice again. Instead, he’s going to be an extra hundred miles away from me. And maybe no Van der Hoff will ever play in the NHL again. So many awful possibilities, and I can’t decide which one I hate most.
But then something in Xander’s features shifts. His eyes dart toward Nate, a glint of understanding and guilt sparking up in them.
All those words get pushed back down when rage takes over me.
“Did you know?!” I yell at him. Xander flinches, making him look small all of a sudden. I instantly regret my tone, but similar to a bulldozer on the roll, my overspilling emotions are not easy to stop.
“I–” he starts, but I’m already shaking my head at him.
“Stupid question.Of course, you knew!”
“Just...calm down for a second and listen, okay?” Nate has made another step toward me, hands still raised.
“Fuck being fucking calm, Nate!” I curse as I retreat to Xander’s side of the room so I don’t have to stand close to either of them. “When did you negotiate with the fucking Utonagans? Why didn’t you tell me? What happened with the Pioneers?!”
Nate lets out a deep sigh as he presses the heels of both his hands against his eyes. “This will sound bad, but we discussed contracts in fall and–”
My mouth drops open, and I pray that I misheard. “Infall?!Like the fall we hadhalf a year ago?!”
Instead of correcting himself and telling me that he didn’t keep this kind of information for months, Nate winces as he buries his hands into his hair. “I was going to tell you, Nicky! Just...just not yet! Not before the end of the season. Fuck, I didn’t know they were going to put out that Tweet and now–”
“I thought you had Pioneer Scouts coming to your games! Yousaidthey were happy with your performance!”
“Oh, I’m sure they would have been happy with your performance, Nicky,” Nate snorts, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
“Stop calling me that when I’m angry at you!” I know exactly what he’s trying to do—butter me up and make it sound entirely reasonable that he lied to me. “You told me that we had to switch identities because there were Pioneer Scouts coming to see you play. AndnowI’m hearing that you had already decided against the NHL at that point?!”
