I skate back to center feeling lighter than I have since before we left for Toronto.
Practice continuesand all I can think about is Juliette watching from the stands. It should make me nervous, but instead it makes me play better. Sharper. More focused.
I make the passes I’m supposed to make, hit my marks, run the plays exactly how Barrett wants them.
But I also catch Luca in goal getting increasingly agitated.
It starts small. Muttering to himself after letting in a goal, slamming his stick on the crossbar after a save he should have made. Nothing unusual. Luca’s always been intense.
But today it feels different. Darker.
“You good, man?” I ask during a water break.
He doesn’t look at me. “Great.”
“You sure? You seem?—”
“I said I’m great.” He skates away before I can push further.
Almardon slides up next to me. “He’s getting worse.”
“I know.”
“Someone needs to talk to him.”
“He won’t talk to anyone.”
“Then someone needs to make him talk.” Almardon’s watching Luca. “He’s going to snap, Rodriguez. And when he does, it’s going to be bad.”
I follow his gaze. Luca’s at the other end, circling his crease over and over, his movements jerky and aggressive. Even from here I can see his jaw working.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“I don’t know. But we need to figure something out before next week. We can’t go into a game with our starting goalie on the edge of a breakdown.”
Barrett’s whistle blows again. “Line drills! Let’s go!”
We get back to work but I can’t shake the feeling that Almardon’s right. Something’s going to give with Luca. And when it does, it’s going to take all of us down with him.
During the next drill, I watch Luca more closely. He makes a routine save and immediately slams his blocker against the post. Once, twice, three times. Hard enough that the sound echoes. Barrett doesn’t say anything but I see him and Anderson exchange a look.
I skate one last lap,catching Juliette’s eye through the glass. She waves before heading toward the medical offices, and I head to the locker room feeling like I just won something.
Practice ends at noon and my legs are jelly, but the good kind, thekind that means I left everything on the ice. I’m halfway out of my shoulder pads, dripping sweat onto the rubber mat, when my phone lights up.
JuJu
You were flying out there today. Also, you were 100% showing off and we both know it.
Guilty. Did it at least look cool?
JuJu
It looked like you were trying to impress a certain someone
Mission accomplished then. You smiled every time I looked up.
What are you doing now?
