Page 42 of Puck Love

Emmett is great company.He’shilarious, especially when Van is on the ice. I’ve never spent time with anyone who has Down syndrome before this. I hadn’t really given much thought to how different my life is from those with a disability, but after meeting Emmett, I realize he’s just like me. Or, he’s just like his brother. They seem to share the same sense of humor. They say exactly what they mean, and I don’t know why, but I just feel lighter around the two of them. Like all of my drama and the crazy that comes with being a celebrity isn’t so importantanymore.

Sitting here with him, watching Van on the ice, it makes me feel like an idiot for running away, and at the same time, I don’t want to leave. I like this rink, I like spending time with Emmett, and I like watching number sixty-nine—the irony isn’t lost on me, either. I’d like to do just that with him. But what I don’t like is seeing one of the members of Van’s team confront him. I can’t hear what the men are saying, but I can feel the tension from halfway across the rink. The other guy gets closer, and shoves Van with his stick, and then all hell breaksloose.

“What the fuck?” Emmett gets to his feet. He shouts at the men on the ice, but my ears start to ring because Van’s teammate is punching him in the head, and right when it looks as if Van might get his own back, he goes down in a heap. His head smacks off the ice, and the whole rink seems to collectively hold its breath. It all happens so fast. Someone shouts for the medic, and Van is swallowed from my view by several huge bodies crowding around him. I’m on my feet now too, my hand pressed against my mouth, my eyes glued to the scene before us. Another scuffle breaks out, and the teammate who’s been by Van’s side this whole practice punches the brute who took Van down. Emmett and I scurry closer, our noses pressed to the plexiglass, but the wall of hockey players surrounding Van hasn’t moved. A team of people skate across the ice to Van, and block ourview.

“Oh, mygod.”

“He’s okay. Fights happen all the time,” Emmett says, but his palm is flat against the glass, and somehow, I think he’s only remaining calm for mybenefit.

“Theydo?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, but he’s frowning. “He usually gets up quicker than thisthough.”

“Is there something we cando?”

“Nope, just stay out of theway.”

A stretcher is wheeled onto the ice, and after a few minutes, Van is lifted onto it and wheeled down the tunnel. “Where are they takinghim?”

“Hospital,” Emmett replies, his voice grim. The teammate who’d been talking to Van before he got hit skates over to our side of the rink and motions to the penalty box. His face is dripping sweat and blood onto his jersey. Emmett and I movecloser.

“Hey, Em. Van’s hit, prettybad.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, and he glances atme.

“I’m Eli,” he says in a strange half-Frenchaccent.

“Stella.”

Eli blinks a moment and does a double take. His gaze penetrates my ruse, and I swallow, hard. He grins. “That sly dog. No wonder he was socagey.”

“Please don’t sayanything.”

“Secret’s safe with me, sweetheart. Now, what are we going to do with youtwo?”

I frown. “I can drive Van’s Hummer to thehospital.”

“No!” Emmett shakes his head vigorously. “The last time she drove she ended up crashing into ourmountain.”

Eli chuckles, as if Emmett was trying to be funny, but when he sees the expression on my face, he balks. “You can’tdrive?”

“I can,” I protest. “I just haven’t had a whole lot of experience, and that moose came out ofnowhere.”

Eli wipes a hand over his face. It comes away bloody. “Okay, well I’ll take you guys back to the cabin. They won’t let us in the hospital room with him anyway—not until they’ve run a shitload of tests. I’ll bring him back when he gets the all-clear from thedoc.”

“I can drive,” I say, resolutely. I don’t want to go back to the cabin. I want to be with Van. I can’t stand the thought of him being all alone in the hospital. “He’s going to be okay,right?”

“Sure, he is, but Gagnon may not be.” Eli glances across the ice at his teammates and coaches. The guy who hit Van is bleeding profusely from the mouth and head.Good.

“He’s a dick.” I’m filled with hate. I have half a mind to climb over this glass and go beat the crap out of himmyself.

Eli chuckles. “Yes heis.”

“Listen, everyone’s leaving, but sit tight here. You’ll have less chance of being spotted. Once all these people are gone, I’ll meet you at Van’scar.”

“Okay.” I nod, and sit down in the seat closest to me. My legs are a little wobbly. When I glance at Emmett, he’s visibly just as shaken as I am. “Are youokay?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “It happens all the time. Welcome to the world of hockey, StellaHart.”

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