Page 16 of Checking All Her Notes
I wake up still smiling, my lips tingling from that kiss. Our kiss. The memory plays on repeat while I brush my teeth, make coffee, get ready for my morning lessons. Even when I’m trying to focus on scales and finger positioning, my mind keeps drifting back to the tunnel. To his hand on my cheek. To the way he said my name like it meant something.
My students notice immediately.
“Miss Kessler, you’re happy today,” Emma announces during group lesson.
“I’m always happy,” I say, but I’m grinning.
“Extra happy,” Lily clarifies. Or maybe it’s Kayla. They’re both in their color-coded shirts but I’m too distracted to check which is which.
“Did you win a game too?” Rusty asks.
The question makes me laugh. “Something like that.”
I tell myself I’ll see Jude later. That maybe we’ll grab coffee or he’ll text. Something. Anything. But when the day drags by in silence, the glow starts to fade.
By three o’clock, I’ve checked my phone approximately seven hundred times.
By four, I’m trying to convince myself that hockey players are just busy. That he’s probably in meetings or film review or whatever it is they do between games.
By five, I’m driving to the rink.
I tell myself I’m just dropping off the event flyers for the fundraiser. Dad asked me to bring them by anyway. It’s a perfectly legitimate reason to be here. Not pathetic at all.
The lie tastes bitter.
I want to see him.
I push through the main doors and immediately hear the sounds of practice. Skates on ice. Pucks hitting boards. The sharp blast of a whistle. Practice should be over by now, but someone’s running extra drills.
I make my way to the rink windows and spot them immediately. Finn and Jett are racing down the ice, showing off. Dax is working on slap shots. And Jude is out there too, helmet off, talking to Finn about something.
He laughs at whatever Finn says.
But it doesn’t reach his eyes.
I tap on the glass, a small knock that shouldn’t carry but somehow does. Jude’s head turns. He sees me.
The laughter stops.
I wave, trying to look casual. Breezy. Like my heart isn’t suddenly hammering.
He gives a nod. That’s all. One single nod.
Finn says something to him, gesturing in my direction. Jude shakes his head and skates away toward the bench, putting distance between us even through a wall of glass.
My stomach drops.
I wait in the hallway, trying not to look pathetic. Trying not to count the minutes. Other players filter out, heading to thelocker room. Finn gives me a sympathetic look as he passes. Jett mutters something about extra conditioning.
When Jude finally walks off the ice, he looks tired. Like someone who didn’t sleep. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and there are shadows under his eyes.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
“Fine.” He doesn’t meet my eyes.
That single word hurts more than it should. More than it has any right to.
I fall into step beside him as he walks down the hall, his skates replaced with sneakers, his equipment bag slung over one shoulder. “You disappeared today.”
