Page 14 of Breakaway Goal

About four strides into my run, I completely lost my balance, tumbled forward, and whacked the side of my head against the bumper of one of their parents’ cars as I went down.

I shake my head as a nostalgic smile warms my face. Yeah, not quite a bar fight.

When I get back home, the house is empty, which isn’t common. I’m not complaining, though. I love living with my teammates, but when you’re used to sharing a house with four other guys, a moment of solitude is something to treasure.

In my room, I strip out of my dirty clothes and pull on a pair of athletic shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt. I’m about to fall onto my bed and zone out for a little while to recover from the strenuous shift at Paul’s garage, when something catches my eye.

There’s something leaning against my record player that I could swear wasn’t there when I left earlier today.

I approach it to see that it’s a vinyl of Chutes Too Narrow by The Shins. My brows draw together, because I know I never owned this album in vinyl even though it’s one of my favorite to listen to.

Then I see the note.

If you can sneak into my room, I can sneak into yours.

The words are written in Maddie’s unmistakable flowery handwriting, and underneath it, she’s sketched a cartoon face winking at me.

My lips pull up.

I put the record on, and the notes of the music weave through me, buoying my mood as I sink into my mattress. The fact that this is a gift from Maddie only makes the music sound even sweeter to my ears.

I close my eyes, Maddie’s note resting on my chest. As I zone out and listen to the music I never would have gotten into if Maddie hadn’t introduced me to it, my main thought is how I’m looking forward to the next time I see her on campus.

Probably way too much.

7

MADDIE

My face is scrunched up in contemplation as I stand in front of my favorite food truck on campus, pondering the vast menu displayed next to the order window.

I’m in one of the worst positions anyone can be in. I’m starving but have no idea what I want to eat.

My eyes scan some of my favorite selections … but I’m just not in the mood for any of them. Ugh, is there any pain worse than crippling indecision while hunger gnaws at your stomach?

“Hmm,” I muse out loud to myself, “the nachos sound good, but I never finish more than half the portion …”

“Let’s split it, then.”

I give a little start at the unexpected intrusion into my hunger-mad musing. Rhys steps next to me, shoulder to shoulder, and my senses fill with his presence. I turn to see him looking up at the menu. I also see how utterly heart-stopping the sharp cut of his jaw looks at a profile view.

“Chicken nachos with extra cheese and jalapeno,” he says, and suddenly that’s exactly what I’m in the mood for. “You in?”

“Is half a portion going to be enough for you? I mean, I’ve seen you eat before.” The quantity of food I’ve observed Rhysand my brother polish off often defies belief. But I guess those piles of muscle don’t come from nowhere.

“I have practice in a couple hours,” Rhys answers. “Not having too much in my stomach is probably wise.”

“Fair enough,” I answer with a laugh. I place the order and then slide open the plastic case underneath the order window to grab some drinks. “Peach iced tea for you, too?” I ask Rhys.

He winks. “You know me too well.”

Those words sound just a little raspier than I expect. I don’t know why such a simple gesture and such a simple answer has me feeling like there’s a cluster of butterflies gathering in my chest.

I reach into my pocket for my wallet, but Rhys is already handing a twenty-dollar bill to the guy behind the counter.

“Hey!” I cry. “I was gonna pay.”

I know that, unfortunately, money is a lot tighter for Rhys than it is for me. Now, in a couple years that’ll change when he’s signed to a giant pro hockey contract and I’m trying to find a way to make a living as an artist, but for now it’s the truth.