Page 171 of On His Team

One is from Ives.

You’re ready. Stop changing the schedule.

I stare at that one. Then laugh. She knows me too well.

By noon, I’m at the rink helping Donovan prep for Ohio State.

Friday night’s game sits over the building all day. The team needs this win. Everybody knows that. They came back from Bowling Green with one win and one loss, which is better than two losses and not enough to make anybody comfortable.

The guys are 17-11-2.

I know that because Benson has said it four times this week. Rowan hasn’t. Rowan has mostly asked whether I remembered to eat.

By five, the clinic materials are stacked in the secondary office. Name tags. Waivers. Printed schedule. Volunteer sheet. Emergency contacts. Extra tape. Three borrowed youth helmets.

I stand in front of it all with my hands on my hips.

Cole comes up behind me. “You done?”

“No.”

“What’s left?” he asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Then you’re done.”

I turn.

He smiles. “Donovan said if you rearrange those packets again he’s taking them away.”

I scoff. “He did not.”

“He did.”

I look toward Donovan’s office. The door is closed. “Traitor.”

Cole laughs and walks away.

The game starts at seven. I watch from the equipment area for most of the first period. Ohio State scores first. Benson ties it. That’s the only Camden goal.

The game never opens up. It stays tight, frustrating, and close enough that every shot feels like it should matter more than it does.

Percy is excellent. Thirty-five saves by the end of it, but it doesn’t matter because Ohio State gets another.

2-1. Final.

The building empties quieter than usual. I stand near the tunnel while the guys come off. Benson goes by first. Then Stanley. Then Blue. Rowan is near the back. His eyes find mine. For one second, I think about saying something.

You played well.

Tomorrow.

It’s okay.

Everything sounds wrong, so I just hold his gaze.

He nods once.