“No. I don’t think I will.”
“She called me a couple weeks ago,” he continues.
I turn towards him. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t know how to. She wanted money.”
“Did she ask about me?”
He sighs, “No.”
“It’s okay, Jay,” I say, turning back toward the ice. “I have everything I need. I don’t need her. Someone told me recently that I’m not alone in the world, and I’m finally starting to believe that.”
He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.
“Well, whoever it was, they’re right.” He grins. “You’re not in this alone.”
forty-five
Zeke
We’re so close,” Brooks says as we finish getting on our gear.
“Hey, asshole, don’t jinx us.” I spray water into my mouth. “The last thing we need is to be overly cocky on the ice.”
“I’m sorry, did Mr. Cocky himself just tell me not to be too cocky?” Brooks zips up his bag.
“Trust me, Brooks, I know we’re winning this game. I just want us to go out there and play like this was our last game.”
I told Avalon last night that we were going to win this game. I know we are. We’ve been on fire all season, and we’ve been playing great during the playoffs. Hopefully, Declan will wise up and play in this game instead of using his stupid injury as an excuse because the win won’t feel the same if he’s not on the ice with us.
If I’m lucky, Ember’s in the stands because our conversation got through to her. This means that Declan will have no choice but to play.
“We’re definitely winning this game,” Fletcher interjects. “Or I’ll owe Tate $100 bucks.”
“I’m sorry, Tate’s betting against us?” Jaxon scowls.
“Not technically,” Fletcher continues. “She just knows how competitive I am, so it just amped it up,you know?”
“You’re a weird man, Fletch.” Jeremy chuckles. “But whatever gets us that win.”
Declan walks into the locker room, and the tension increases. Since Cam swung at him during practice, everyone just waits for the shoe to drop. Like at any moment, Cam could go after him again, and no one knows which side to be on.
“Hey, Golden-Boy,” I begin, “you playing tonight? Or are you still too hurt to play?”
We all know he’s not in pain. Or at least not enough to keep him off the ice. I remember when we were thirteen, Declan got hit hard during a game, so hard that they broke his wrist. He played the rest of the game without telling anyone.
So, whatever “injury” he has would never be enough to keep him away from the game.
“I don’t know. I’ll see how I feel once we’re closer to game time.”
“We’re pretty much there now,” I respond.
He shrugs, pulling his phone out of his locker and staring at the screen. Then he throws it back in.
“No word from her?” I step toward him, and he shakes his head.
“Can I talk to you?” Cam walks over to us, and everyone’s eyes are on him and Declan.