Page 79 of The Overtime Persuasive

“You were getting pulled backward while seventeen tried to take your head off.” He shakes his head. “They wanted blood.”

“I was fine.” I lean my head on the glass. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Yeah.” Tripp picks up the water bottle and takes a drink. “But you’re welcome.”

We sit in punctuated silence, watching as New York scores on the power play. The goal horn remains silent as their bench celebrates. It’s three–two when I get back out, Tripp staying behind to serve for misconduct. Even with two minutes left, and us throwing everything we have at them, we just can’t seem to get traction.

The final horn sounds before we can bring it back. We hand them the game they came here to steal, and I don’t even dare to look toward Coach as I leave the ice. We file back to the locker room, silent. No music, no talking. The only sounds you can hear are tape as it’s torn from shin pads and equipment as it hits the floor.

Tripp stands by his locker, a cut above his eyebrow and a red mark along his jaw. A few moments later, Coach walks into the center of the room and stands there, taking in the room.

His eyes land on me first. “You. You had the penalty.”

I nod and stay quiet.

“Seventeen hit you late. The official’s arm was going up. You retaliated,” Coach says, “and turned our power play into a penalty kill.”

I nod, the weight of my actions laid out in front of me. Nice one, Liam. You helped cost us the game and probably demerits toward the position, but hey, you can always go back to the drawing board. “I know.”

“No, Snyder. Right now, you know we lost. Tomorrow, I want you to figure out why you gave him exactly what he wanted.”

His attention moves to Tripp. “And you. I saw what happened. I knew before you did that you were going to multiply one bad decision into two.”

“Two guys were on Snyder.” Tripp’s jaw tightens. “I wasn’t going to let them jump him.”

“No one is asking you to watch a teammate get hurt. I’m asking you to know the difference between helping him and making the entire situation worse.” Coach turns to the room. “Let it be known, that If you want more responsibility on this team, you will control yourself when someone tries to take that control away from you.”

The words slap me harder than anything number seventeen landed.

“Both of you.” He looks at Tripp, then to me. “My office tomorrow morning.”

And he walks out. Around us, the locker room slowly begins moving again, but no one says anything.

I stare at the floor between my skates as Tripp appears in front of me. “For what it’s worth, I’d do it again.”

I glance at the cut above his eye. “You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I did.”

For most of my life, Tripp has been the guy standing on the other side of the fight. Tonight, he was the first one into it for me.

Tomorrow, we find out what it cost us.

CHAPTER 18

EVA

There are few ways to ruin a perfectly good cup of coffee faster than watching the man you’ve been deliriously kissing at any opportunity get punched in the face on the morning news.

The sports anchor introduced the clip as a “bang-up of a brawl between the Dominion and New York,” which was a terrifyingly cheerful way to describe what I saw. I knew hockey players fought. I understood this on an intellectual level.

But I guess it hits different when one of the men involved recently had his hands beneath your shirt in a supply closet.

The news showed the same footage from three angles. Liam’s helmet hitting the glass, then someone’s gloves hitting the ice, before a cut to Liam’s fist connecting with the other player’s face.

On the first replay, my coffee stopped halfway to my mouth. On the second, my pulse lodged itself in my throat. By the third, I knew he got back up, but my body still hadn’t received the message. Because for one awful second, when his helmet struck the glass, I’d imagined him not getting up. Not walking through the door of Side B again with some super flimsy excuse to hang out with me.

The fear of that was sharp, immediate, and far too real for someone I’m only kissing. I should know, because I’ve spent years making sure no one’s absence could hollow out my life.