Page 30 of Heart Check
But after a few minutes, I have to admit it’s not working, and I start feeling silly. I slowly lower my fists to my side, my throat hoarse.
“Feel better?”
I whirl to look at Harper. Everything from her full, pursed lips to her expressive, raised eyebrows seems designed to taunt me.
My face gets hot. “Not really. I can’t believe you got us trapped in here.” I’m already shivering, trying not to think about how long it’ll take for hypothermia to set in.
“Me?” Harper takes a step forward. “You’re the one who came in behind me. For ice? What, for one of your parties for the frat bros in training? If I die because of thehockey team, I swear toGod—”
“At least we know how to have fun,” I cut in. Arguing with Harper distracts me from the creeping numbness in my fingers and toes. “And with the way this season’s going, I think we deserve to blow off some steam. Sabotage can get a guy down.”
Her mouth twists, eyes widening in something like hurt. I feel a little bad, but I’m too frustrated to fully regret what I said. I don’t really think it’s her who got Coach fired anymore, but she’s been snippy with me all night and I can’t resist firing back.
“You want to talk about sabotage?” She straightens up to her full height, though if she tried to punch me I’m not evensure she could reach my face. “Someone’sbeen review bombing my website. This job is nice and all, but it’s not going to come close to covering my college tuition, okay?”
“Someone’s been review bombing you?” I frown. “Wait, why?”
She squints at me. “Why do youthink? Anyone come to mind who’s convinced I’ve ruined their life this year?”
Silence stretches between us for a moment while she narrows her eyes meaningfully. And then it hits me. “What the fuck? I’d never do something like that!”
“Really?” She squints at me. “This team is your life, Dawson. You’re telling me you wouldn’t do anything to defend it?”
“No!” My face is hot. “I promised I’d leave you alone. And I know we can save our team on our own merits, okay? I’d much rather spend my time training than backstabbing you.”
Harper studies me intently. “And it’s just a coincidence that all the negative reviews appeared right after I showed you my site?”
My stomach drops. Shit. The timing is definitely suspicious. “I swear, Harper. I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’t me.”
Harper’s narrowed eyes stare into my soul, and I hold my breath. I really, really want this girl to believe me. She must see the genuine shock on my face, though, because she says, “I believe you. I guess I didn’t actually thinkyouwere that soulless.” I relax slightly. Until she adds, “But what about the rest of your team?”
“They wouldn’t do anything like that either.” Defending my team is an instinct, same as I would on the ice. But… would they?
I did mention the website to the team. Remembering the look on Noah’s face makes me frown.
Harper crosses her arms, not buying it. Maybe picking up on my own uncertainty. “I don’t expect you to take this seriously. Everyone in this school gives you everything you want. But some of us have to figure out our own path, okay? I have a lot riding on this business.”
My cheeks flame despite the freezing temperature in here. “Maybe I’ve had it easier than some people, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t worked my ass off. If I knew anything, I’d tell you, okay? No one deserves for their hard work to get messed up like that.”
Harper hesitates for a second before nodding, seeming to believe the defensive heat in my voice. “Yeah,” she says. “Exactly.”
Harper crosses her arms across her chest. Suddenly I’m very aware of how little her totally normal polo covers. There’s all that clavicle, her bare arms—practical for a shift in a warm restaurant when you’re on your feet, but that’s a lot of frostbite potential when you’re locked in a walk-in.
“What?” she asks. “Is there something on my face? Ketchup on my shirt?”
I avert my eyes, staring intently at the tubs of sour cream stacked behind Harper’s left ear. “You’re cold,” I say to the square foot of space over her shoulder.
“Obviously I’m cold. We’re in afridge.” Her teeth chatter. “You can just sayyou’recold, you know. You don’t have to do the strong jock thing.”
“Maybe you aren’t aware, but hockey’s played on ice. This is nothing.” But I’m not gonna lie, I’m really wishing I’d grabbed my sweatshirt before heading into the back.
Silence stretches between us for one long beat. The fridge ticks in the quiet, pumping out more cold air. My toes passed tingling and went all the way to numb a long time ago, and tucking my fingers under my armpits is a poor substitute for gloves. It’s so cold, it almost feels hot. Can you still skate if you lose a toe to frostbite?
Harper lets out a frustrated sigh, and her breath turns into a puffy cloud. I try not to think about what that means for the temperature in this place. “What’re we going to do?” she asks, voice smaller than I’ve ever heard it.
The freezing air must be penetrating my brain stem, because I blurt out, “We could… keep each other warm.”
Her head whips up, eyes widening. For a minute, I get caught in their irises—the green, the gold, the caramel.
