Page 119 of Falling

We all laugh at that, and I force myself to bury those feelings down for a time when I can actually process them. Competition season qualifiers are coming up soon, and I need to work on perfecting my routine with Darcy.

We watch the team go through their drills, Miles taking the lead once again. I can’t tell if he just enjoys telling people what to do or if it’s actually part of his role.

They start to play a quick game, zipping up and down the ice. It’s hard to keep track of who is who with the amount of gear they have on, so I’m only guessing. Kennedy has finally put down her iPad, and Scar is doing the thing where she’s pretending that she doesn’t care, but I can hear her muttering under her breath every time Miles’s team misses the shot.

When Miles gains control of the puck at one end of the ice, he hardly looks up as he dodges the opposite team, moving quickly and efficiently. He looks so fucking hot as he does it. The other team has basically given up at this point, not even trying to defend his shot. But right before he has the perfect opportunity to get the puck into the goal, he maneuvers closer to where we are sitting and picks up his stick, pointing it right at me, and he winks.

He fucking winks at me.

Dimples popping out and all.

I almost die.

“This one’s for you, baby,” he says before regaining control of the puck again and hitting it straight into the net, right past Harry.

Half of me wants to scream in embarrassment as the rest of the team laughs, and the other half of me wants to get down onto the ice and kiss that stupid grin off his face. Instead, I sit there and smile at him, feeling on top of the world.

When they go back to playing, Scarlett leans into me, whispering, “Whether he did that for show or not, that boy is head over heels for you, babe.”

In some weird way, I think she might be right, and I’m right there with him.

38

MILES

WHATEVER IT TAKES

Mom

Good luck with your game, baby! I miss you. Hope we can catch up soon.

Sleepingthe night before a game is the same as trying to go to sleep the night before Christmas. I haven’t had this feeling in such a long time. Last season, it was exhilarating, but nowhere near as much as this.

Since we came back from Palm Springs, I’ve been training like crazy to get back into shape for this season, and the games we’ve played so far have been going well. I know we’ve got to keep working hard to make our way through the tournaments to the regional championships, but I’m more than happy to put in the work. Our game tonight is the first of the critical February matchups, and I’m committed to putting in my all like I have been these past few weeks.

There’s a certain type of rush in the crowd, and having the first years’ experience for the first time makes this more thrilling. Weirdly, my mom’s message has been comforting. Her birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks, so I know I’ll have to speak to her again at some point. Knowing that she’s keeping track of my games and has been looking out for me has been nice since I saw her over Christmas. It’s good to have her back in my corner even if talking to her is still hard.

We all huddle in the tunnel, psyching ourselves up to play. Most of the team rough each other up a little, bumping their chests together and howling. Others take a moment to pray to their god to guide them through the game. Gray, Harry, Xavier, and I stand in a huddle, working out the logistics of the game. We had a team meeting earlier in the sports classroom to work on tactics, in which we looked at game tapes to plan how to improve.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I know how important my position is on the team, and I can’t afford to mess it up. The last few games have been perfect, and we’re getting closer to the regional semi-finals. If I mess this up, they’re going to blame me because they know how in my head I’ve been. I'm the weakest link right now according to them. I have to lead us to victory. For myself. For Wren. And for Carter. He’s the only reason I’m back out here doing what I love.

“Don’t fuck this up, Davis,” Jake mumbles as he walks past our huddle, jabbing his stick into my side. Since the fight at the playoff game, he’s gone back to his usual self, annoying me at any chance he can get. I ignore his stupidity and turn back to the guys.

“As long as we play our best, that’s all that matters, right?” Harry asks, looking between us. He’s got the most worried look on his face like he does before every game. I don’t know why he gets so nervous. He’s the best goalie our team has ever had. Xavier bumps him in the shoulder playfully.

“Drayton is an easy beat,” Xavier says. “Out hustle, out work, out think, out play, and out last.”

We all nod, chanting along with him. We’ve been doing these rituals for as long as I can remember. Just saying encouraging words and affirmations helps us get our heads in the game. It works like magic. That, and my pre-game playlist that helps me when I sit in the locker room with my head down and try to focus on something else.

“Whatever it takes,” Grayson shouts at the top of his lungs; this time, all the guys join in with the chant.

“Whatever it takes!”

I recite lyrics in my head to keep me relaxed as we stand in the tunnel. Everybody cheers and chants over the commentator as they introduce the line-up for the visitors’ team. We start to make our way out of the tunnel as they call out our names, and we take our positions on the ice.

I stand in the right wing, trying to focus on my breathing as they play the national anthem. I attempt to ignore the tightness in my chest and close my eyes. Flashes of our last game with Carter cross my mind. I can see him skating around the ice in celebration after everyone left. “We fucking did it, Davis!” he shouted, patting me on the back.

My helmet suffocates me, but I keep on breathing. I can do this. Ihaveto do this. For Carter.

---