Page 66 of Breakaway

“It’s too bad we can’t stay the whole weekend,” James says as we clap each other on the back. “Coach wants us to get to Texas ahead of time.”

“And I still can’t believe you won’t be here for Thanksgiving,” Mom says with a sigh.

“Someone has to play Dallas,” Dad says. “And it’s a divisional game.”

“Yes, yes,” Mom says, waving her hand. “At least we’ll have Bex. And the cat, right? I can’t wait to meet the cat.”

“The cat is so cute,” Izzy says. “Mom, you’re going to flip.”

Bex smiles as she steps forward to hug me too. “I broke out my McKee hat for this,” she says, kissing me on the cheek. “It’s weird, going back to purple.”

“I got you seats in the front row,” I say as I lead the way across the parking lot. It’s a midafternoon game, the one McKee hockey fans have been waiting for all season—the first home game against UMass. Someone started calling it the Turkey Freeze ages ago, and the name stuck, since it takes place right before Thanksgiving break. There’s even a trophy, a bronze turkey in full hockey gear that we pass back and forth based on who wins. It’s one of the biggest regular season games we play in Hockey East. CBS is broadcasting, and Coach already told me that I’m likely to get an interview at some point, so I need to think about how I want to present myself. My stats have been strong all season, but excellent play during this game will help show that I can buckle down even in big moments. It’s going to be my first time seeing Nikolai on home ice since last season, but I’m not worried about him anymore. I’m locked in, and that means not paying him any mind, no matter what he chirps at me or what cheap shots he tries to get away with. “It’s right across from the benches.”

“Fantastic,” says Mom. “We’re so excited to see you play, sweetie.”

“Wait until you see him in all his gear,” Izzy says slyly. I poke her in the ribs. She squeals, dancing away from me. “Cooper!”

“Not a word,” I warn.

“What?” Dad asks.

“Nothing,” I blurt. “I need to head into the locker room, but I left the tickets at the box office. Evan’s dad and little sister are going to be near you guys, and my friend Penny.”

James gives me a look, which I studiously ignore. Ill-timed realizations aside, it’s not like anything has changed since the day we had lunch with him and Bex. Penny is still just my friend, and if anything, things have been tense between us since the night her father nearly caught me in her room. When I tried to bring up what happened the other day, she looked at me like I’d just stepped on Tangy’s tail. I haven’t tried since.

In the locker room, the energy is high. I’ve always tried to hype up the guys before games—part of the reason I wanted to be captain in the first place, it comes naturally—but now, with the “C” on my chest, I feel the pressure more keenly. Coach Ryder, looking extra-crisp today in a light purple shirt and navy suit, nods at me as I put fresh tape on my stick.

Does he know how much pressure he’s putting on his daughter? Does he know how much she’s still hurting? Something tells me he doesn’t even know she’s writing a book.

“See your parents yet?” Evan asks as he laces up his skates.

I shake myself out of my train of thought. Nothing but the game matters right now, even if whenever I look at Coach Ryder, I just think of his daughter. She’ll be wearing McKee purple, but it won’t be my sweater. “Yeah, I just walked them in. They’re going to sit near your dad and sister.”

“Sweet. Maybe after we can get dinner together.”

“Callahan,” Coach says. “I’d like you to say a few words before we get out there.”

I give him a nod. I expected as much. Across the room, Brandon scowls. When Coach announced he was naming me captain, I worried about him giving me shit, but he’s been quiet, sticking to his crew while I stick to mine. Part of me feels like I should watch my back, in case he tries to trip me up somehow, but that’s just paranoia talking. As long as his feelings don’t impact his play on the ice, I don’t care what they are. He can hate me all he wants, but I earned this.

When we’re suited up, we huddle in the center of the room. There’s a cameraman in the corner; I didn’t notice him until this moment. He’s probably filming a live look into the locker room. I swallow down the rush of nerves and tap my stick against the floor to quiet everyone.

“Guys,” I say. “I know that when we visited UMass a couple weeks ago, we lost. That was tough.”

Murmurs of agreement. That loss sucked; 1–0 is a tough pill to swallow, especially up at UMass. Nikolai jeered at me when the buzzer went off and the student band trumpeted out a victory song; I had to take a deep breath and skate off the ice before I took things in a direction I didn’t want. Something about that asshole’s face is just so punchable.

“But now we have them here, and since then, we’ve been on a winning streak. The Merrimack game was a fucking gem.” I look around the group. Evan’s looking at the floor, rocking back and forth. Remmy looks locked the fuck in, which I love to see. Jean gives me a nod, and so does Mickey. Even Brandon is listening. “We know our strengths. We’re faster than they are. Our passing game is stronger. We have Remmy, who is a fucking wizard in the net. We’re coming back in here after three hard periods of play with a victory.”

“McFucking McKee!” Jean cries. Everyone laughs, banging their sticks on the floor as we repeat his words. Hopefully, the live broadcast has a delay so they can bleep out all the cursing. I wait by the door and tap everyone on the helmet as they pass, a good luck gesture that our captain last year did before every game.

We skate out for introductions. Someone from the school choir is singing the national anthem as the student band plays. It’s a little awkward, honestly. I’m not used to all the pomp and circumstance. James is, I’m sure; he went to the national championship game for college football last season. I hook my stick over my shoulders and bow my head as the UMass guys skate onto the ice next.

When I lift my head, I almost let out an ill-timed curse. Nikolai is standing right across from me... with a “C” on his jersey as well. That hadn’t been there on Halloween.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

His mouth twists into a smile. “Looks like we both got upgrades, Callahan.”

“Go back to the KHL, Volkov.”

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