Page 33 of The Save

As we left the office, Axel turned to me and, without warning, pulled me into a full-body bear hug. “Thanks, Maddie girl.” He squeezed, and I laughed, pushing against his chest.

“You haven’t passed yet.”

He let go, his eyes dancing. “But I feel like I can.” He smoothed my sweatshirt on my shoulders. “Appreciate ya.” He dropped his hands and turned to Chase, clapping him on the back and steering him a few steps down the hall. Their voices dipped low.

My interest was instantly piqued, but I didn’t want to seem like I was eavesdropping. I couldn’t exactly leave since Chase was my ride, so I studied the announcement board like I was doing exam prep and strained to hear what they were saying.

“Thanks again, bud.” Axel’s voice was barely loud enough for me to make out something intelligible. “ . . . money by next Friday.”

My head tilted.Money?Chase said something I couldn’t catch. Axel nodded and clapped him on the shoulder again. I stayed put until Axel walked down the hall in the opposite direction, and Chase turned back to me.

“Ready?”

I spun from the board, doing my best, “Who, me? I completely forgot you were there.” If Chase saw through my acting, he didn’t let on.

Back in the truck, that same warm, minty, familiar scent enveloped me.

“So.” Chase ran his hands over the wheel, and the soft, brushing sound gave me goosebumps. It was like I had a processing disorder. Every piece of clothing or object he touched became an extension of my own body. “We should update Lamont about Axel,” he continued. “Write up the plan and put it out to the committee.”

I nodded. “I’ll include Hennings's breakdown and tweak the academic support schedule for his exam prep.”

We talked through the logistics and ran over the week’s schedule with our study sessions. When there was nothing left to discuss, the cab fell into momentary silence.

Chase exhaled. “Well. Blakely’s going to be thrilled.”

Coach Blakely. Of course he’d be thrilled. He’d get all his players on the ice.

That comment dragged the last game to the forefront of my mind, and a tangle of yarn seemed to lodge behind my ribs. I pulled on the thread that said, “Chase is obviously going through something,” or “He doesn’t owe you anything, you offered to help,” but that only tightened the knots.

No, he didn’t owe me anything, and yes, he was probably emotionally stretched, but weren’t we all? That wasn’t an excuse. I was sick of giving people my answers and watching them ride off into the sunset.

“If you’re free this week, would you want to go over numbers for the next away game?” Chase asked. “Clearwater’s tough. I thought we could get ahead of their penalty kill?—”

I turned to him, my eyes flashing. “Not free this week.” I didn’t expect him to be a mind reader in this moment, but asking me to help meant he was either desperate. Or oblivious. Or both.

Chase pulled up to the curb. “Did I say something?—?”

“No.” I shoved open the door and got out of the truck, that knotted ball starting to strangle me. Even in that moment, I knew the pressure building inside me wasn’t only the numbers. It wasn’t even only Chase. It was years of me feeling taken advantage of. Tiny moments stockpiled over time. Sharing homework, saying yes to favours, doing the group project. Putting forth so much effort a thousand times over, and what did I have to show for it? Good grades? Now I was working my ass off to pad my resume for a scholarship and he wins the hockey game and waltzes into Ranchman’s with Melody Sanchez?

Okay. So maybe it was more about Chase than I realized, which was why I didn’t want to talk about it with him. I pressed a fist to my chest, trying to draw a full breath.

“Maddie, stop.” Chase grabbed my elbow, turning me to face him. I hadn’t realized he’d gotten out of the truck. “What did I say?”

“I really don’t want to talk about this.”

He nodded, his jaw working. “About what?”

Damn it. One sentence and I’d given away that therewassomething to talk about. Was it the discombobulating wake-up? The meeting with Axel? The smell of Chase’s truck? I was the rational one. I didn’t spin out of control and have emotional meltdowns.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m not feeling?—”

“Does this have anything to do with the game? Or Melody? Because?—”

I coughed. “Why would it have anything to do with Melody?”

Chase put his hands on his hips, splitting his jacket and exposing his fitted T-shirt. “You shot out of Ranchman’s after we got there. And you looked pissed.”

My mouth worked. “I—I had an early morning.” I folded my arms, scrambling to get off my proverbial heels. “Why was Axel talking with you about money?” Chase frowned. Ha. Perfect. I doubled down. “He said he’d have the money for you—why? Some playoff bracket bet or something?”

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