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Coach freezes the video on a failed defensive-zone exit and spends another two minutes explaining exactly how many people managed to make the wrong decision at the same time. Then, finally, he puts the remote down.

“All right.”

Chairs shift. Water bottles disappear into bags. Sawyer gets halfway to his feet.

“Sit down, Stockton. We’re not finished.”

Sawyer drops back into his chair. “Of course we’re not.”

Coach waits for the room to settle.

“There’s one more thing we need to address before you leave.”

I look at the clock. 11:45. Fifteen minutes. He can address almost anything in ten minutes.

Coach steps into the center of the room, folding his arms over his chest. “When we named Campbell captain and gave Ty an A, I told you we weren’t going to rush the rest of the leadership group.”

Well, that did it. Every thought about traffic disappears. No one moves.

“We wanted to see how this team handled adversity. We wanted to see who stepped up when things weren’t going well, who took responsibility, or in some cases”—he looks at me, then Tripp—“accountability, as well as who made the players around them better.”

My pulse changes. This is it. The announcement I’ve been waiting for since training camp.

Longer than that, if I’m honest. I’ve spent most of my life believing a letter on my sweater would prove something—maybe to myself most of all.

Coach looks around the room, his eyes sliding across each of us until they stop and land on me.

“Starting next game, Snyder, you will join Ty as an alternate.”

For half a second, I don’t react. I’m not sure I breathe.

Then someone slams a hand against the wall. Owen lets out a shout, and Sawyer reaches over to hit the back of my shoulder. The room fills with applause, whistles, and someone chanting my name.

Coach stares at me. “You hear me, Snyder?”

“Yeah.” My voice comes out rough. I clear it. “Yes, Coach.”

“You understand this isn’t a reward?”

“I do, sir.”

“It’s a responsibility. You don’t get the letter because you want it. You get it because the room needs you to carry it.”

The words strike somewhere behind my ribs.

“You’ve spent a lot of time trying to prove you’re better than the others on the ice, but,” Coach continues, “I noticed that lately, you’ve been more interested in making sure the guys on the ice with you are better too. That’s leadership. Keep it up.”

I nod once. “I will.”

Ty reaches across the space between us, and I clasp his hand.

“Congratulations,” he says. “Now people can interrupt both of us with their problems.”

“Looking forward to it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t.” That draws a laugh from the room.

Coach raises his hand, quieting everyone again. “We also said we would have three of you as alternates, but we’re not doing that right now. Ty and Snyder will wear the As. I’m satisfied with the leadership group as it stands, but that doesn’t mean the door is closed. We’ll continue watching. If someone else earns a place in that rotation, we’ll make the decision when we’re ready––so, if anyone wants to know, yes. Another alternate spot could open in the future.”