Page 28 of Habits

Before the game, I went to Lia’s house, where I knew I’d find them. Since Lia and Derek started dating, she hasn’t missed any of his games, so I knew she wouldn’t miss this one, either. I apologized for my behavior the other day, and being the girl she is, she accepted it before I was even done.

“How can there be no fouls?! The guy practically broke half of his bones with how hard he pushed him into the glass. I’m surprised it didn’t shatter!”

“Everything is fair game until the gloves come off.” I shrug, my eyes following the game.

The score has been tied for two periods, and now, with just a few minutes left on the clock, the tension in the rink is high.

My eyes follow Max as he intercepts the player from the rival team, his stick effectively taking control of the puck and sending it to Derek.

It’s like the guy has known all along that Max would manage to snatch the puck, and he rushed to be there, close and ready. The connection these two have on the ice is incredible. I’ve been cheering on Max for years, and there has never been a team he meshed so well with until now. Max and Derek are so in sync, you’d never guess they can’t stand each other in real life. Or maybe they can, now that Derek is dating Amelia and all that.

Derek takes control of the puck and starts skating like the devil’s at his feet. Defensive players clear the path for him, and just when I think he’ll do it, just when I can taste the sweet victory, I hear Amelia’s loud gasp on the other side of me. She jumps to her feet, her hands clenching hard against her chest just as I see a player bulldoze into Derek, making him fall face first.

An audible gasp followed by utter silence spreads through the rink as we wait for him to get up.

Everybody excepthim.

Andrew, the last part of the trio, throws his gloves on the ice and launches at the guy still on the floor next to Derek. Andrew lifts him in the air, like the guy weighs nothing, and shoves him into the Plexiglas so hard, the whole rink echoes with the force of the impact. I kid you not.

Nibbling at my lower lip, I suppress the wince when I see his fist connecting with the guy’s face without mercy.

You can hear flesh hit flesh, followed by the sound of bone cracking. The rink is that silent.

Through the entire game, you could see that he’s been on edge, anger radiating off of him in waves. No matter how hard I tried to ignore it, ignorehim, I simply couldn’t. My eyes still found him in the mass of players scattered over the ice.

He called to me, almost as strong as the call of a warm fire in the middle of a winter blizzard.

Andrew’s movements have been faster, his shots harder. Even the slightest misstep of the opposite team irritated him, and he was already thrown in the sin bin twice for hard game.

Well, harder game than usual.

Both teams react pretty quickly, pulling Andrew off the guy since the ref was too busy helping Derek get on his feet.

Amelia sighs in relief, her squeeze on my hand—when did she even get a hold of it anyway–loosening.

The poor girl is so pale, the freckles on her skin look even darker than usual.

“He’s okay.” I return her squeeze reassuringly. “It’s just a bad hit. He’ll be okay.”

Amelia nods her head, not uttering a word. I’m not sure she believes me.

Together, we watch as Derek gets on his feet, and after a quick discussion with the ref, his eyes scan the stands. When he finds Amelia, he lifts his hand in a wave, smiling. It’s weak at best, but I can feel Amelia relax next to me a little.

The team doctor comes to the ice, helping Derek off. His body is stiff as he skates away, but he’s standing, so I guess things can’t be that bad. He’ll most likely have one nasty bruise for a while, probably a concussion, too, but that’s it.

The ref turns his attention back to the players on the ice and starts barking orders.

“Do you think they will let us see him?”

Brook and I exchange a knowing look over her head. “We can try.”

* * *

ANDREW

Looking as my teammate fills my glass full of brown liquid, I tilt my head back and down it all in one go, letting the Scotch burn my throat. Once I’m done, I put it down violently.

“It’s time to paaaaarty, assholes!”

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