Page 10 of Heart Check
Alex is the only one who snorts, but he straightens his face immediately when Ryan throws him an elbow to the ribs.
“What I want to know is how Principal Castillo even found out,” Noah says, eyes narrowing.
Ryan nods. “Someone must’ve ratted Red out, right? Found some incriminating information and passed it along?”
“A hero to society,” I mutter.
All eyes turn back to me. The air above the table practically crackles with tension.
“Hang on a second,” Noah says, lips pressing into a thin line. “The only person who would narc on Coach is someone who hates the team he’s built. Someone who doesn’t care if we bomb this year. Maybe someone who would evenloveit if that happened.”
My neck prickles, and for a moment, time slows. The din in the restaurant quiets around me, and all my other tables fade into a blurry mist.
Voice cold, Noah asks, “Are you the one who got Red fired?”
For the first time in my life, I know what it must be like to play hockey. Because it feels like there’s a full team bearing down on me and I’m about to get crushed into the boards.
5.DAWSON
Harper’s cheeks flush with somethingthat could either be shame at getting caught or insult at a false accusation. It’s impossible to tell.
I narrow my eyes. I forget all about Alex and Ryan and Noah crammed into this booth alongside me as I lock in on Harper. She tucks her hair behind her ear, taking a deep breath as if to steady herself. I’ve never seen her at a loss for words like this.
Is the pulse fluttering in her throat a sign of guilt? The bracelet she’s always wearing dances on her wrist, as if she’s trembling.
I frown. She’s annoying as hell, but would she really get someone fired?
“I know you’d love to think we all care enough about you to scheme behind your back,” she says when she regains the power of speech, each word clear and clipped. “But frankly I don’t have the time or energy. If you find whoever busted him, though, tell them their onion rings are on the house.”
She whirls away. Ryan snorts his approval, muttering something about free onion rings being a pretty good incentive totake up fighting crime, but he shuts up when Noah shoots him a look.
“I know she did it.” He stabs an emphatic finger after her. His voice rises above the chatter inside the diner, and I have to fight the urge to tell him to quiet down. He clearly doesn’t care who overhears. “She’s always bitching about how hockey gets all the school’s money instead of her book club or whatever—”
“Young Entrepreneurs Program,” I correct.
Noah waves a hand. “Sure. But it wouldn’t be like that if they did anything worth funding. We were league champs last year!”
“Thanks to Coach Red,” Ryan mumbles. When we all shoot him a glance, he holds up his hands. “Sorry! Pointing out the obvious! I’m just saying, I’m going to double down on training for baseball. Or maybe I’ll get Tyler to teach me how to throw a football in time for next fall’s season. Not putting all the pucks in one net, or whatever.”
I nod as my own stomach dips. I get it. I only wish I had anything other than hockey to bet on for myself.
The noise of the Lakeside roars in my ears, clattering plates and shouted-out order numbers from the line cooks and the jukebox in the corner playing old Norah Jones songs. As if it’s all reminding me what’s on the line this year. If I’m ever going to get out of Hamilton Lakes, this is the only way. It’s sure not going to be my grades.
Noah’s barely listening to Ryan. He’s too busy narrowing his eyes at Harper as she takes orders across the diner, like he suspects her of using her notepad to plan a smear campaign.
“Listen,” he says. “It makes sense. Who else has it out forus?” He spreads his arms wide to encompass the entire diner, and maybe all of Hamilton Lakes. “Everyone loves us!”
We all nod. It’s not even about being cocky. They justdo. This town lives for its sports, and it’s basically a coming-of-age ritual to either pledge your devotion to hockey or football.
“She has to have something to do with it. Even if Coach did steal the funding”—Alex flinches, and Ryan shakes his head—“someone wanted to get him fired. Who has the motivation to sabotage the program? Besides,” Noah says, leaning forward over the table, “I saw her and her friend going in to talk to the principal the other day and figured it was more of their usual complaining. But what if it was about this?”
I go cold all over. I’d forgotten until now, but Harperdidtell me outside the new rink that she was going to talk to the principal about the school’s use of funding. I’d thought she was just making a bad joke, but what if she was evil-villain taunting me, about to drop a bomb on Castillo, waiting for our team to find out the truth?
I watch Harper, for once not even caring if I get caught. She’s smiling at her customers—an expression I never get to see, warm and friendly and considerate. Which face is real?
She’s always been annoying, but I’ve never seen her as a narc before. But Noah’s right: she’s the only one we know who has a motive. What was it she said the other day?A bunch of bullies on skates who have maybe ten good years left before they’re washed up and dreaming of their glory days.
The memory of her staring up at me outside the rink makes the blood rise in my cheeks. You don’t see me going around mocking her jewelry hobby.
