I look down. I’m not in my underwear. I’m in my compression shirt and my goalie pants and one pad is hanging off my leg like a broken wing.
“Close enough,” I say.
Roman leans back and closes his eyes again. “The nobody backup goalie part was rude, though.”
“I’m getting that put on a t-shirt,” Rodriguez says.
“Make sure you get a knot underneath. Probably one made with skate laces, right Zach?” Dex asks.
I feel my entire face turn red, and I can’t help but laugh.
38
MACKIE
I buythe plane ticket at 2 AM sitting on the floor of my bathroom with the shower running so my mom doesn’t hear me talking to myself. It’s a habit I fall into when I’m making decisions that straddle the line between brilliant and catastrophically stupid. The jury’s still out on this one.
A last-minute round trip to Miami is nine hundred and forty-seven dollars, but my fingers don’t even pause as I type in my mom’s credit card number, hit confirm, and watch the email drop into my inbox. My dad was explicit about banning me fromthearena. He didn’t, however, specify which city’s arena.
It’s pure lawyer logic. It’s the kind of loophole reasoning that would make Kara call me an absolute genius, but I don’t call her. Speaking the plan aloud makes it real, and if it’s real, I might realize how insane it is and talk myself out of it. I can’t let that happen. Not tonight.
Packing takes less than ten minutes: a change of clothes, a phone charger, a toothbrush, and the faded baseball cap I stole from Zach’s apartment months ago. The only other thing goes in last. The box has been buried in the back of my closet for twodays, hidden under a blanket so my mom wouldn’t ask questions. Barrett had slipped it to me just before the team left for Game 3, fixing me with a look that clearly said,don’t make me regret this.
I leave a note on the kitchen island—staying at Kara’s tonight—and hate myself a little for the lie. But I’ve spent the last four days slowly losing my mind on my parents’ couch, watching the man I love play the worst series of his career. I physically cannot sit there for one more game.
By 4:30 AM I’m at the airport, and by 6:00 I’ve cleared security. The TSA agent gave the box a long look through the X-ray machine before shrugging and pushing it through. Now I’m curled up at the gate, knees pulled to my chest, Zach’s cap pulled low over my eyes as I finally text him. It’s 9 AM in Miami which means he’s either at breakfast or warming up.
Me
what’s your hotel room number
Zach
319
why
Me
no reason
question
if someone were to show up at room 319 around noon today
hypothetically
would the door be open
Zach
Mackie
are you at the airport
Me
I’m at a gate
