Page 68 of Penalty Box
His tone was casual, but I felt the meaning hidden in his innocent statement. I used to skate with this guy on Saturdays until the lights shut off. Now he looked at me like I was some far-off version of the kid he used to know. Like I’d turned into something else.
“How’s it feel?” He left that there, didn’t specify or clarify.
“How does what feel?”
He scoffed. “They’re talking about you like you’re the next big thing in hockey. I don’t know whether they’re right or not. Never seen a game.”
Of course he had to slide that in there. Make sure I knew he couldn’t give two shits about my game either way. It was weird. I didn’t remember Luke to be a giant dickhead.
I didn’t remember the rest of the conversation with Luke. I just said whatever sounded right until he walked away.
“Back to the house?” My dad asked when I got back to the truck where they waited.
I looked around, saw the guys I used to hang with filing into pickups. They’d probably all be at the Landry house to pay last respects, which meant I’d likely go through similar conversations like the one I had with Luke just now.
“Let’s head home,” I said, climbing into the back of the truck after Cass.
Thankfully, the drive back was comfortably quiet, with even Hallie giving the moment the space it deserved. The world was one amazing coach poorer, and I still couldn’t make heads or tails of this unsettled feeling twisting my insides. It was as if coming face-to-face with my past in the midst of tragedy made the future I was hurtling toward look a lot harder around the edges. Back then, it was the game and nothing else. Good, clean, fun.
“Wow, this is… interesting.” Cass’ eyes went wide when she walked into my bedroom, scanning every inch of the walls, nooks, crannies. Every detail told a story and she was hungry for it. “Didn’t take you for the shrine type.”
“I love hockey,” I shrugged, and sagged down onto my childhood bed. The covers were a faded tribute to the 2005Dallas Stars roster, with Modano’s face staring back at me from the pillowcase.
“Feels like I’ve time-traveled into a hockey-obsessed middle schooler’s wet dream.”
“You’re not too far off the mark,” I said with a laugh, and she joined in, coming to sit beside me.
For a while, we didn’t talk. Just sat there, side by side on my creaky single bed. Her fingers brushed the edge of an old Marty Turco poster tacked to the wall.
“You really were all in, huh?”
“Still am,” I replied.
I turned my head and found her watching me. Not judging or teasing, but actually seeing me.
“Cass…” Her gaze stayed on mine. “Thanks for being here. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this on my own.”
She gave a small, sad smile. “You’re not on your own. You have your dad and Hallie.”
“You know what I mean. Having you here… it’s what Ineeded.”
The words came out quiet. Barely there. But I saw the way they hit her, the way her expression softened.
She reached up and touched my cheek. Her fingers were cool. Gentle. Like she was trying to press comfort right into my skin.
I covered her hand with my own, and leaned in. I wasn’t planning it. I’d meant what I said about this being a platonic trip.
But she met me halfway.
It was a soft kiss, slower than I expected. No heat, no rush. Nothing but a quiet ache pressed between us, and Cass soothing it with her lips, her tongue. Just what I needed.
I whispered her name again, but whatever I was about to say fell flat when my bedroom door creaked open. We jumped apart, staring at Hallie in my doorway.
“Hey, just friends,” she said with a wry smile. “Dad said to call you guys down for dinner. Or should I tell him you’re busy?”
I grabbed the pillow from my bed and tossed it at her hard. But her reflexes were too sharp and it went bouncing around the hallway instead, her laughter floating down the stairs.
Later that night, the four of us gathered around the living room TV with popcorn and beer. Cass kept checking on me, and it was getting harder and harder to tell her I was fine missing the game.
