Page 81 of If You Love Me

“She shoved him and pinned him to the ice when he went down.”

“Oh my gosh. Why would she do that?”

“He was chirping her. He absolutely said things that weren’t acceptable, and he’s been removed from practice today, too. But if we hadn’t pulled her off, we were worried she would have hit him.”

“I’m so sorry.” Callie is a lot of things, but violent isn’t usually one of them.

“Me, too. I wish we would have caught things sooner, and I feel awful. I know how important hockey is to Callie, but we have zero tolerance for physical violence.”

“I get it. How long is she out?” It’s her one escape, and I worry about how she’ll deal—and how I’ll manage without an after-school program for any length of time.

“Three practices.”

“Is she allowed to watch?” I ask.

“We’re asking the other player to stay home for the next twopractices, and we’d ask that Callie do the same, just for some cool-off and reflection time. But after that, she can support the team by sitting in the stands if she wants.”

At least Fee will be home to help manage, so there’s that. “Okay. I understand. I’m sorry about this. I’ll have a talk with her.”

“I know you have a lot on your plate. This can’t be easy for your family.”

“I appreciate your compassion, but it certainly doesn’t excuse Callie’s behavior. I’ll impress upon her the importance of handling interactions like these with words instead of aggression.”

I return to the rink to gather Callie and her equipment, and we go out to the car.

Unlike Fee, she doesn’t give me sass. She follows along, side-eyeing me as I stride through the parking lot. I just need to get them home, dole out punishments, and have a private emotional breakdown of my own.

Fee is in the front seat, trying to use makeup to hide the fact that her eyes are puffy. “I was just coming in.” She frowns. “Practice isn’t over yet.”

“It is for Callie.” I direct her into the back seat and round the driver’s side.

“What happened?” Fee asks as I close the door behind me.

“Callie got into a fight, so she has a few days off from hockey practice.”

“But he?—”

I hold up my hand. “Not now. Let’s get home, and then we can deal.”

Callie bites her lips together.

I turn the engine over and focus on getting us back to the condo. I’m so out of my depth. I have no idea how to deal with a teenager who was caught vaping and an eight-year-old who’s picking fights with her teammates.

The drive home is tense. Every part of me feels like it’ssparking. My dad won’t be any help. He basically moved to New York when I was a toddler, and I only saw him on holidays and for a month in the summer. He had me in hockey camp out there, and I spent almost all my time on the ice when I visited him. He didn’t have to parent me. I was too busy to find trouble.

Callie is crying as silently as she can by the time we get home, and Fee isn’t much better. She helps Callie out of the back seat, I grab Callie’s hockey equipment, and we pile into the elevator. I’m choking on the silence, on the certainty that I’m messing these girls up. That I can’t hack it. That I’ll crack under the pressure.

My phone buzzes with new messages. “Fuck.” I still have to finish the strategy plans for Vander Zee tonight.

Callie’s head snaps in my direction.

I don’t apologize for the swear. I’m exhausted, overwhelmed, and terrified that I’m headed for a cliff with no brakes. I pull my phone from my pocket. There are new messages in the Babe Brigade chat, which is normal, but I also have new messages from Roman—one from more than an hour ago, and one recent.

Roman

Hope everything is okay. Message when you can.

Followed by the recent one:

---