Page 130 of Stick It
Coach goes over strategies for the second half, his voice steady, but the energy in the room is electric. We know NSU won’t go down easily, but we’ve got them on their heels.
When we return to the ice, the roar of the crowd is deafening. I glance up, taking in the smiling faces, the blue-and-silver flags and scarves being waved. My own smile makes an appearance. Typically, I’m so focused on the game that I pay little to no attention to those here to cheer us on, but for a moment, I allow myself to bask in their support. But then?—
The deafening thump of the music cuts off.
An eerie quiet settles over the arena, spectators turning to one another as cheers turn into whispers and looks of confusion. Someone points toward the jumbotron hanging above the ice, and I glance up.
My stomach drops.
I blink at the screen, unsure if what I’m seeing is actually real.
I’m looking at myself, standing on this very rink, except the lights are dim, the seats in the audience vacant. And taking up the brunt of the screen is me…and Griffin. My helmet dangles from one hand, Griffin’s mask discarded on the ground, but what has my insides shriveling is the fact his hand is in my hair, mine fisting the front of his practice jersey, while our lips are interlocked.
Our kiss is hot and passionate, the way it always is between us.
Before I can wrap my mind around the scene unfolding before me, it changes. Instead of Griffin I’m kissing, it’s Finn. The background is dark, but it looks like the back hallway of The Stanley.
The clip changes again. I recognize the team’s physio room. Finn’s body becomes Ethan’s, and for a moment, I’m back in that room, Ethan’s lips on mine, my hands tangled in his shirt.
A final transition, and I already know what’s coming before it materializes. Me and Jax in the hot tub, his fingers tangled in my hair, his mouth moving over mine. I can feel the heat in my cheeks, the stares directed my way, and fingers being pointed. I don’t dare look away from the jumbotron even though it makes me sick to my stomach to continue watching.
Expecting that to be the end of it, I wrench my gaze away. It clashes with Kyle’s across the ice, and the sourness in my gut boils into fury. Even without the dark smirk curling his lips, I know this is his doing.
A flicker from the jumbotron has me glancing back, and I suck in a breath. This time, I’m entwined with someone wearing a white-and-glacial-blue jersey—NSU colors. Lucas.
More clips play out. I recognize the moments, remember them with unease, but the face in each of them has been altered. Each of these moments are private ones I shared with Lucas, but the clips have been doctored to make it seem as though I was intimate with most of the NSU team.
A montage of faked moments spliced in with real ones, painting a picture that isn’t real but looks damningly convincing.
Image after image blends together in a sickening display until acid burns in my mouth and my muscles scream at me to run.
The crowd gasps, murmurs turning into a deafening roar. NSU fans jeer and laughter echoes from their bench.
I can’t move. Can’t breathe. My entire body feels numb as I stare up at the screen, watching my humiliation play out in front of thousands of people.
Slowly, I turn to the guys, both dreading and hoping…
Ethan’s face is unreadable.
Jax grips his stick so tight his knuckles go white, but still, I can’t get a read on his thoughts.
Finn’s face is a blank slate.
And Griffin—Griffin looks as though he’s contemplating murder, but whether it’s whoever did this or mine, I can’t be sure.
When the vile, incriminating video is finished, the screen returns to the typical Steelhawks promo. I’m not sure if the arena goes quiet or if the rushing of my pulse in my ears drowns out all other noise. Only the high-pitched blow of the ref’s whistle jolts me back into the present. The reality that I am now left to rise or crumble in.
Despite the interruption, a game is in progress, and we are expected to continue on as if nothing happened.
I swallow hard, my hands shaking as I grip my stick.
A hand comes to rest on my shoulder, and I flinch.
“Dyl—” Bear’s worried tone has me sucking in a grounding breath.
Before he can say anything else, I shake my head. “I’m fine.”
I’m anything but, but I refuse to let Kyle and Lucas see any hint of weakness. I will play. I will fight. And I will win. Even if they’ve won the war, I will win this battle.
