Page 135 of Jaded

But that’s the thing about the Ice Out—you look away. Respect the shadows. Don’t try to peer too closely through the dark. But Ethan Douglas isn’t a creature of that darkness.

I perch on the chair in front of Coach’s desk to keep myself from pacing. “I won’t deny it.”

“Good. We’re both adults.”

“Don’t like the sound of that.”

“You should.” Coach slides a small blue ticket across the desktop. “Come to the open tryouts. See how you skate with a real team.”

My heart thuds against my ribcage. Sharp, jarring, fierce. It’s like the dreams of my past have woken up inside my chest, but they’re such violent, dangerous creatures, I long ago turned away, before they could hurt Syd.

You know I think you should skate in this too, right?

I know what Syd would want. And Avery. Olli. Charlie.

But I don’t reach for that ticket.

“You and I both know you’re better than the Ice Out,” Coach murmurs.

Do I know that? I know hockey is part of my soul, lives in my bones, beats in my blood. I know I need it like I need air and water, and it holds me hostage the same way the ice does this town.

But I also know Iamthis town. And so is the Ice Out.

Coach sighs. “Look. Taylor. I’m just asking you to show up. That’s all. Show up, take it one day at a time.”

I don’t reach for that ticket.

“I think Olli’s onto something here,” Coach says, and my mind fixates on that name.Olli. “We need players who are gonna stick around, work hard, show up all winter long, in the cold and the snow. Who are gonna treat this team like a destination, not a stopover.”

I nod, my throat too dry to speak. He’s right. All of his words make perfect sense.

“That’s all we are for most of these transfers.” Coach’s jaw flexes as his teeth grit. “And Olli’s no different. That kid’s got talent. He’s going places. Maybe he’ll turn this team around before he goes, but we both know he’s not staying.”

My stomach clenches into a tight knot. A cold, dense little ball of discomfort. Dread, almost. Not that any of this is news to me. Not that it’s not anything I haven’t thought about.

But there’s a difference between spinning through your own anxious thoughts, and hearing someone voice them aloud.

“We need Day River boys.” Coach’s statement is flat, final. “We need someone to be here for the long haul.”

His words make me ill. After the days Olli and I shared . . . They’re the last words I want to hear.

“Right.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “There are a lot of guys in this town who’d kill for the shot.”

“Exactly. And we both know you’re more talented than most of them.”

“Talent isn’t everything.”

“Certainly means a lot in pro sports.” Coach leans back in his chair, lifts his gaze to bore through mine. “Just look at your brother.”

My fingers clench tight into fists. It’s true; Jesse’s got more God-given hockey talent than anyone I’ve ever seen. Enough to overcome his cocky attitude, his poor grades, his partying. No one ever questioned Jesse’s vices, not when his virtues shined so bright.

He’s forty-one and still killing it in the pros.

“He talked to me, you know.” Coach’s voice goes quiet, and his gaze slips sideways, past me. “Asked about the Ice Out.”

“Did he?” My own voice sounds strangled, like someone’s wrapped an oversized set of hands around my throat. He’s trying to weasel his way into the Ice Out–Dingoes tryouts.

“We had a meeting, in fact.” Coach steeples his fingers together. “About this tournament idea of his—he wants me to handle the rosters.”

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