Page 66 of No Rhyme or Roughing
I threw my hands up. “I had to do something. Sydney told me if we could get some attention online, it would help.”
Teddy bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands. We all knew what selling the team could mean. Relocation. But it wasn’t just about not wanting to move. This team had meant something to us since we were kids, begging our parents to take us to games.
And Mr. Mac? He meant something to us too.
All the chatter in the locker room died off. I looked up to see the man himself standing in the doorway. Mr. Mac had a gentle face, one barely capable of a scowl, yet he didn’t look happy now. He pointed one finger at me.
“Uh oh,” Teddy teased, laughing under his breath.
Mr. Mac apparently wasn’t in the mood for our shenanigans. “Valentine, you just worry about trying to hit the net tonight. For once.”
There was sparse laughter as I stood and followed Mr. Mac into the hallway.
He shut the door behind us and turned to face me, arms crossed. “It working yet?”
“Um… I’m sorry?”
He sighed, his arms falling to his sides. “I want this to work out the way you want it to, kid, but I’m worried about you, that you’re setting yourself up for a letdown.” He sounded like he’d already reconciled with the fact he had to sell.
“We just need time.”
“I wish that was all this team needed.” He looked tired, worn out.
“Look, Ryder, I enjoyed your little stunt. It was entertaining. But—and I’ve said this before—you need to think about your future. Don’t tarnish your reputation for little old me. Or even for this team. You’re the captain. Remember that.”
I was quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. The old man had always cared for me like I was his own son, but it was time I returned the favor.
“You really think I care about my reputation?” I asked. “I’m not stupid, sir. I know I’m nearing the end of my hockey career. But even if I wasn’t, loyalty is important. You’re right. I’m the captain. I may not know exactly what that entails yet, but I know it means I can’t let this team fall apart without even trying to save it. If you tell me to stop, I will. But I’m asking you—please don’t do that.”
He blew out a long breath, looking suddenly unstable on his feet. His eyes shimmered as they met mine. “They sure broke the mold when they made you.” His head bobbed down and then up. “I won’t keep you from doing what you think you have to do.”
“Thank you, sir.” My lips spread into a grin.
He chuckled. “I’ve got to say, it’s good to see you smiling again, son.”
It was good to have reasons to.
When I re-entered the locker room, Teddy and Rowan were deep in conversation with Sullivan. My brother was the only one to look my way, his brow furrowing before he gave me a little wave.
I pushed away the longing. I missed being close to Sullivan, missed him being my brother in every sense of the word, but I couldn’t dwell on it now. Not tonight.
I grabbed my gear and got ready for another night of playing the game I loved.
Every tickof the clock on the Jumbotron overhead was another move toward showtime. Technically, the game itselfwas showtime, and we were determined to make it a good one tonight.
Gonzo was on his game, stopping every weird-angle shot, every unpredictable bounce. He skated out of the crease with the puck after gloving a long shot and dropped it to the ice. Teddy raced the Dallas winger back toward him, but Gonzo slid the puck right past them to where Jules and I waited at the other end of the ice.
I gathered it, flipping it from backside to front as I charged toward the net, veering away from a defender to round it. A quick pass to Jules. One-timer. Goal.
Teddy’s favorite part of the game—the post-goal celebration hugs.
He sped toward us and launched himself into the air, colliding into our group hug and shoving the rest of usback against the boards. It was impossible to be mad or annoyed after a sweet goal like that, especially when it put us up three to nothing.
We skated to the bench, slapping our teammates’ hands, then headed to center ice for a new face-off. Each shift, each play, was a new moment in time, and we had to shake off the previous goal to focus.
Teddy lost the face-off, and the Dallas centerman passed back to one of his wingers. The three of them pushed toward our net, where Gonzo stood alone like a fortress.
I tried to catch up. Teddy yelled at all of us to pick it up, to stop them. Coach Griff’s screams echoed in my ears.
