Page 97 of The Home Grown
I’m not kidding, but since it’s becoming even more enticing, I figure it’s better to share. That way, the dark web can’t tempt me because everyone in the dressing room knows too much.
“Or are you seeing a gap in the market?” Hutch grins. “Because it sounds like there’s money to be made.”
“Well, I guess I could?—”
“Enough,” Johnny says. “Can we focus, guys? Can we get our head in the game and think about the outcome of tonight? Because we’ve worked our asses off all season and the last thing I want is for someone to decide tonight is the night to start aside-hustle.” He pauses, looking around the room. “That can wait for the off-season—though no ‘killer-for-hire’ schemes, please.”
That shuts me up, anyway. Because Johnny’s right, I need to focus.
My head is elsewhere, and it’s got nothing to do with hitmen. It’s Ellie. All about Ellie.
The shit I just rambled was a crap attempt to distract myself because I haven’t heard from her since this morning and I’m worried. And as far as I’m aware, she’s not been in touch with my sister, Kelly, either.
The plan was for her to sit with Kel on the basis that Ellie is in town for work. Just an old friend watching an old friend’s hockey game. Simple. Except, Kelly hasn’t confirmed if she’s here or not and I don’t want to sound keen by texting her to ask, either.
I pull my phone out to check my messages when Coach Adams comes in, followed by Springy. They loiter near the door to the dressing room as they call us to listen in. I fire off a quick text to Ellie before tossing my phone into my cubby.
“How are we feeling?” Coach says, looking around the room and it’s at this moment the gravity of the situation hits me.
This isn’t just a silver cup. This is a demonstration of success. Hard work. Focus. And the unease in my stomach turns up a notch—reminding me I’m human.
“Remember boys, we don’t need to do anything special tonight. We just need to remain focused—keep thinking about the next goal. Stay disciplined … don’t let them get you too excited. You’ve done this before, and you can do it again. Over to you, Koenig,” Coach says.
All heads swivel in Johnny’s direction.
“Well, boys, as Coach said—there’s nothing special here. Another game, another opportunity to prove ourselves. But we don’t have time for silly mistakes. Think about thenext move, think about the next play. Look after each other. Communicate…”
My phone vibrates. I catch it on the edge of my hearing, and that’s all it takes for me to zone out. The intrigue. The curiosity. Has Ellie texted me back? Is she here? Is she about to watch me lose focus—or worse, throw up on the blueline?
The chorus of cheers brings me back into the room, where I snap my attention back to Johnny, who’s beaming around the room at the guys. He takes in the scene before turning away from the crowd, suddenly invested in his tape bag, sitting on the shelf of his cubby.
Ah, shit.
“We’ve got this, Cap,” I say, forcing myself to smile. Forcing myself to set my own anxiety aside. “You know that, right? We know what we’re doing. We’ll be on fire out there.”
He’s still for a moment before he turns towards me, a half-assed attempt at a smile creeping over his face. “Yeah, bud. You’re right.”
Coach claps his hands to regain the attention of the room.
“Right,” he says, holding out a piece of paper to Johnny. “Starters.”
Johnny grabs the paper and unfolds it, skimming over the content before he exhales sharply.
“Let’s hear the energy,” he says. “We’ve got Jonesy and Yatesy starting us on ‘D’.” A roar of applause fills the room. “Preston one and two on wing, and Jani taking the centre spot. Between the pipes—” He pauses for effect, “Ffordey.” The boys go wild, and of course, I join in, acting like I’m not fazed in the slightest. Acting like I’m not about to throw up.
My phone vibrates again. And I turn to grab it, desperate to check it before we leave, but Danny’s quicker, smacking me on the back and steering me towards the door.
“Ready, mate?” he says.
“Yeah, you know me. Born ready,” I say, forcing a grin, and Danny buys it.
I wait right up until the moment he steps ahead of me before mumbling some bullshit about needing to grab my other mouthguard, and because the guys are forming a line in the tunnel ready for the announcement, I know I don’t have long.
I just need to know if it was her.
Chapter Twenty
BETTSY
