Page 69 of The Save

“This is selfish of me.” He tapped my thigh and gently lifted me off him. When I stood, he adjusted himself and took a minute to breathe before standing. “You need to focus on your scholarship, and I?—”

“What?” I straightened my shirt, my eyes stinging. “Don’t tell me what I need to focus on.”

“Don’t change your plans because of me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know where I’m going to be?—”

“But we both have choices. We can decide?—”

“You’ve already decided.”

“Partially.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You asked to tutor because you wanted this scholarship more than anything.”

“Not all of us only want one thing,” I snapped, and instantly regretted it. The sadness returned to Chase’s eyes, but anger welled in me so thick, I couldn’t soften enough to take it back.

Why was he being like this? For all his talk about not wanting, about letting things be what they were going to be, he was the one who emailed me. He obviously wanted something from this.

Chase dropped his eyes. “Well. I want you to get the Rhodes.”

I wet my lips. “And what about for you?”

His jaw tensed and released. “I need to work on some things for Nationals. I’m sorry?—”

I picked up my bag and stormed out of his office before he could finish that sentence.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

We enteredthe commons area of the North Centre and the rich, buttery scent of popcorn hit me first. Someone had dragged in a popcorn machine from the theatre department and set it next to a massive drink cooler labeled “Outlaws Fuel” in red marker. Two hours before puck drop, the place was already half full.

Shar, Crystal, and I had spit-balled a thousand ways to be in person for the Outlaws games at Nationals, but when Douglas announced they'd be playing them on the big screen, we decided to stay put with the rest of the student body.

In the middle of the tables, a mammoth projector unit faced a makeshift screen mounted to the far wall. Someone had hung fleece Outlaws blankets over the windows to darken the space. Brilliant.

"I'm so nervous, my hands are shaking." Crystal clenched her fists as we claimed our spot at the front-left table. She dropped her bag with a thunk and immediately pulled out her scarf. "I want more hockey tournaments."

"Just so you can skip class?" Shar asked.

I grinned. "It's not skipping when the professor okays it." Kowalski let us out early as long as we promised to do an extra problem set and turn them in over the weekend in his drop box.

Shar eased into her seat beside us, tugging her coat off and exposing her barely there baby bump. “I got a full extension on my term paper. I told them I was emotionally compromised. Technically true.”

We waited while one of the more techie staffers at Douglas got the feed going, then focused on the warm-ups. Our bracket was steep. It was double elimination, but we had to win our way through the gauntlet. The Outlaws had drawn one of the strongest BC teams in the first round. Okanagan’s Silverhawks. I was already regretting leaving Chase's office instead of actually looking at the data he had.

The room erupted at puck drop. We only left our seats between periods to use the washroom and grab snacks, and when the final buzzer sounded, there were hugs and congrats all around. Final score: Douglas 3–1.

Game two against the Langley Northstars was tighter. They pressed harder. Rob went bar-down in OT, and the screen flickered just enough that for one heart-stopping second, we weren’t sure if it had gone in.

We were hoarse by game three. The Outlaws took on Red River College, and the game was a grinder from start to finish. No clean plays, no flow. Just grit and persistence. Somehow they pulled out 4-2 by the end of the second. But in the third, Red River scored in the first three minutes, then again on a power play with three minutes left. Blakely pulled Tim at two minutes, but an empty netter from one of the Red River forwards sealed our fate.

The mood on campus was somber until we realized they were still playing for third.

Somehow we managed to turn in our homework and take care of basic living while spending four-plus hours in the North Centre every day. When we showed up for the bronze medal match, we found familiar faces on the big screen.

"Shut up! Interviews!" someone shouted, and we tuned in to Blakely talking about the Douglas offense. I was about to hit the washroom before puck drop when Chase's face filled the screen. My stomach flipped.

"I know that loss in the semis probably still stings. I'm sure you've been making some adjustments,” the reporter said. “What do you think will be the difference tonight?”

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