Page 5 of Seal the Deal

It’s been a while since I thought about that place, or more specifically, a person I knew from there. Charlie. The summer I spent with her at that camp felt like another life, but the connection we shared was rare. Unfinished. We were just kids, but she was unforgettable.

“Sounds like a good fit,” I say, my mind already shifting back to the ice and the game plan for our next match.

Zoe gives me a quick wave from the stands before hurrying off, and I skate a few more laps to cool down, thinking about what Zoe’s friend must be like. It takes guts to start over somewhere new, to throw yourself into something unfamiliar. That kind of leap feels miles away from the life I’ve poured everything into.

Even as I think that, there’s a restless ache I can’t shake. Most days, I’m satisfied. I love the game, the team, the rush of it all. But lately, it feels like something’s missing. Like I’ve been skating in circles, chasing a future I thought I wanted but can’t quite see anymore.

And sometimes when I least expect it, that ache sharpens into something more. A memory. A question. A fleeting thought about the one thing I never chased. The one thing I let go of.

I shake it off and push harder, burning the edge of the rink like speed alone could drown out the hum of my thoughts. But no matter how fast I go, it always catches up eventually. The nagging sense that the ice, the crowd, the victories—they’re not enough anymore.

The scariest part is, I’m not sure I’m enough for whatever comes next.

As I head off the ice and start peeling off my gear in the locker room, the usual post-practice banter is already in full swing.

Chase Walton is in the middle of recounting some wild night, his grin wide as he exaggerates every detail. “And then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any crazier, she pulls out this—”

“Spare us the details, Walton,” Elijah cuts in, shoving Chase’s shoulder as he passes by. “Some of us don’t need to live vicariously through your escapades.”

Chase just laughs, unfazed. “Not all of us are as boring as you, Eli.”

“Boring is what wins games, remember that,” Elijah replies as he drops onto his bench and starts unlacing his skates.

Ryan, our captain, chuckles from his spot by the lockers. “We should let Walton lead the next strategy meeting. See how far hisinteresting ideasget us.”

“I’m full of brilliant ideas,” Chase says, puffing up in mock pride. “For one, we should definitely be doing more fan events. Preferably in Vegas.”

“You just want another excuse to see that stripper,” I say, tossing gear into my locker.

“And your point is?” he counters. “Come on Brooks, you could use a little fun. You’re too serious these days.”

I shrug. “Serious is what gets us to the playoffs.”

Coach walks in, clapping his hands to get our attention. “Alright, listen up. Good work today, but we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. Stay sharp. We’ve got a tough schedule, but if we keep this up, we’ll have a real shot at the playoffs.”

A murmur of agreement sweeps through the room. We’ve got a strong team this year, a mix of seasoned veterans and hungry rookies, and something big feels just within reach.

Coach nods, satisfied, and turns to me. “Brooks, keep leading by example. The rookies look up to you.”

I nod, feeling a familiar mix of pride and pressure. “Will do, Coach.”

As Coach leaves, the conversation shifts to lighter topics: weekend plans, league gossip, and Chase’s endless string of women. The guys are loud and full of energy, like they always are after a solid practice, and I should be right there with them. Instead, I feel a hollow place beneath all the noise, like I’m circling something I can’t quite figure out.

“Brooks, you spacing out?” Chase drops onto the bench beside me with a grin. “You thinking about that sick deke today, or are you just planning your retirement?”

I roll my eyes, chucking my gloves into my locker. “Don’t get your hopes up, Walton. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Ryan calls over. “We need you out there, old man.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not in my grave just yet.” As if in response, my shoulder twinges, a reminder that my body’s not as forgiving as it used to be.

Turning towards the showers, I catch one of the rookies, Logan, watching me with that wide-eyed look of someone who’s still getting used to being here.

“Nice hustle out there today, Pooks,” I say, clapping him on the shoulder.

He’s just a kid, barely out of high school, and the team immediately dubbed him ‘Pookie’ because of his baby face. He grins tentatively, and it reminds me of that feeling of trying to prove myself. Hell, maybe that’s all I’ve ever done. Prove I belong. Show that I’m enough.

Stepping into the scalding hot shower, Zoe’s words resurface in my mind about her colleague from New Zealand. Just the name of that country thrusts me back into my memories. I try not to dwell on the past much, but a part of me has always held onto my summer at camp. Held onto my memory of Charlie.

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