Page 37 of My Brother's Enemy
Through the rest of the period, Sunny shot six more times. He got one more goal. Third period was a repeat, except there was a new energy coming from the team. Sunny shot. Tyler shot. They went head to head, and Tyler was grinning wide. The energy was addicting, and soon Ray was matching them, as if it was only the three of them on the ice. The other team folded under the constant barrage.
The Grays won six to three.
I heaved a breath when the siren blared at the end of the game, and Coach Hines made sure to meet my gaze. He dipped his chin in acknowledgement.
I’d passed my first test. Now I had to keep building on it.
25
TYLER
After the game, the locker room was lit. Some of the younger guys were dancing. Sunny was just grinning at everyone. Bruge scowled, but when Meester clapped him on the shoulder, some of that faded. He looked a little sheepish before bending his head and focusing on getting changed.
Coach came in and said a few words, and I noticed Rain lingering in the hallway. As soon as he was done, he motioned for her to follow him and the rest of the coaches into his office. They liked to have their own meeting after each game. She looked up as she turned to go, meeting my gaze for a second before ducking inside.
I couldn’t read her.
I didn’t like that.
We didn’t talk much at the rink except for that one midnight skate. And I knew she was focused more on other players, but I didn’t like that I couldn’t talk to her. She’d had some hand in our win tonight. I wanted to tell her that.
Everyone had seen how she pulled Sunny aside, and after that he’d played with a new mission in life. He loved it. I loved it. Ray had joined in, and the whole team was infected. Meesterhad complained that there was only so much he could do as the second goalie.
And speaking of, Meester moseyed over now, his hips doing some sort of bounce to the music blasting through the locker room. “Hey, man.”
I continued undressing. “Not going to take anything you say seriously while you’re doing a bad impersonation of Shakira.”
His hips stopped. “Who?”
Jesse had just come back from the shower, holding a towel around his waist. He promptly bent over in laughter. “Shakira! Meester, your hips don’t lie.”
Meester’s eyebrows shot up. “My hips don’t what?” He seemed offended on behalf of his hips. “I am no liar.”
Brick snorted in laughter.
Bruge walked past, shaking his head. “It’s a song, dumbass.”
Meester put his hands on his hips, continuing to frown as a faint flush came to his cheeks. “I knew that.”
Bruge called over his shoulder. “No, you didn’t.”
“No, he didn’t,” Jesse agreed, starting to get dressed. “But he’s going to come in for practice tomorrow singing that damn song.”
One of the younger guys came over. “I like Shakira. She seems feisty.”
“She’s from Argentina, right?” Brick called.
Bruge shook his head. “She’s from Spain.”
I had ceased undressing since this conversation was occurring in front of my locker.
“Anyway.” Meester focused on me. “We’re going to Halbrechts. You should come. Tonight’s game was epic. We need to celebrate.”
I glanced around, noting that most of the side conversations had ceased. Even Bruge had stopped to look at me.
They’d invited me before, but I hadn’t gone. I’d always gone to the hospital.
I stood up. “Uh, yeah. My niece isn’t in a coma anymore.”
