Page 67 of The Breakaway

“I’m going to head home,” Rob said. “I can give you a ride.”

I thought about walking out with him. Climbing in his truck. Riding with him in silence. Walking into our house together— “I'll probably stay out with Crystal and Maddie. She’s our DD. Wouldn’t want her to sacrifice for nothing."

Rob's nostrils flared. “How long are you going to stay out?”

I shrugged, folding my arms over my chest. “As long as Crystal and Maddie want to stay.”

Rob clenched his jaw. “You’re not a partier.”

That set my teeth on edge. “Maybe I am.”

He steered me to the side of the room, his hand wrapped around my upper arm. “Do you need attention? Is that it?”

My eyes flashed, and I poked a finger into his chest. “I’m allowed to have a night out. To let loose. I just finished finals, and I’ve only had a little to drink.” I brandished my beer bottle.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but then he just shook his head, his lips twisting into a wry smile. "Whatever you say."

“Yeah. It is whatever I say.”

Rob held my gaze long enough that my insides started to liquefy, then turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of sweaty, drunken bodies. I watched him go, my heart still racing and my mind whirling with questions.

What the hell was that all about?

When he disappeared down the hall, I pushed my way through the crowd, searching for Crystal and Maddie. The air was thick with the scent of humans and alcohol. I found themnear the makeshift bar, laughing and flirting with a group of guys who were probably friends with number twelve.

Crystal caught my eye and waved me over, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright with excitement. "Shar! There you are! We were just about to do a round of shots. You in?"

I hesitated, the rational part of my brain telling me to slow down, to be careful. But the alcohol coursing through my veins made everything seem fuzzy and distant.

"Sure, why not?" I heard myself say, grabbing a shot from the table. We clinked glasses and tossed back the liquid, the burn of the alcohol making me cough and sputter. Crystal laughed and slapped me on the back.

The rest of the party passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and increasingly drunken antics. I spotted two guys shotgunning beers on the porch while a group of girls played a sloppy game of strip poker in the living room. Someone turned on a karaoke machine at one point, but I was definitely not drunk enough to take a turn at the mic.

By the time Maddie, Crystal, and I stumbled out the door at four in the morning, I had a throbbing headache and a rip in my shirt. Zero idea how that happened. We piled into Maddie’s car, and she didn’t bother driving us home.

We crashed at her place, and I didn't wake until well past noon, my head pounding and my mouth dry as a desert. Groaning, I pried my eyes open to find Maddie already up and dressed, holding out a bottle of water and some ibuprofen.

"Rise and shine," she said with a grin. "Let's get you home so you can finish packing. We need to head to the rink soon."

The rink? I blinked, pressing the tips of my fingers to my temples.

Maddie read my thoughts. “The championship game, babe. Just go pee. We can discuss glitter eye shadow and body paint on the way over.”

Chapter

Twenty-Three

"Maddie, focus!"I nudged her shoulder at puck drop for the third period. She’d been distracted all night, not just because of the wolf mascot. She would’ve blamed it on that, but I saw her sneaking looks at the Outlaws bench. Specifically the end with the coaching staff.

The energy in the building was electric, every inch of the stands brimming with fans decked out in school colours. Signs waved frantically in the air, and the pounding of feet against the metal bleachers became a thunderous rhythm that reverberated in my chest.

Crystal leaned over with a grin, adjusting her maroon toque emblazoned with the Outlaws’ logo. "Tie game, ladies!”

I squirmed in my seat. Normally, I loved a tight game, but this was the invitational championship. The Outlaws and the Wolves were locked at ones heading into the third period, and I already felt nauseous. With Logan away at World Juniors, the team had been forced to step up, and they had. But Clearwater wasn’t backing down.

The puck dropped, and the tension in the rink ratcheted up a notch. Tim, our goalie, crouched low in the crease, his eyestracking the play like a hawk. Rob took control in the defensive zone, skating backward with precision as he kept the Wolves’ star forward at bay.

"Come on," I muttered under my breath as a slapshot sailed toward the net. Tim reacted with lightning speed, deflecting the puck with his blocker, and the crowd roared its approval.

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