Page 17 of Pucking High School

Cade smiled and waved at the camera as he stood. The crowd cheered as he hugged his parents and sister before giving me a high-five. “It’s you next, D. I can feel it.” He grinned, talking just loud enough that I could hear it over the noise in the stadium. There was no time to say congratulations because Cade was already walking down the stairs to the table filled with cameras and his new manager.

First round.

I couldn’t believe it. I fully expected Cade to get picked high, he was a great defenseman, after all, but in the first round as the tenth pick. Well, that was incredible.

Clapping, I smiled as I watched my best friend’s dreams come true. The same dreams we’d been talking about for nearly eight years now. I wondered what it would feel like to get drafted. To know that you had your future planned out and where you were going to live after you graduated college. It was all things Iwanted, but as the night continued, I was getting nervous that it might not happen for me.

As the excitement died down, I took my seat, along with the rest of Cade’s family. As expected, his mother was crying, and his dad was watching on proudly as Cade was busy on the stage taking photos with his new jersey.

My knees were shaking, so I ran a hand through my hair, then looked at the stage again. I was nervous as hell, and the empty seat next to me wasn’t helping my mood.

“Dash, Honey?” Cade’s mom leaned over so that I could see her. “Do you think your dad will be able to make it?”

“I, uh, doubt it,” I eased out, giving her the best smile I could muster. “There was an emergency at the firehouse. He said he’ll try but I doubt they’ll let him in.”

She pressed her lips together, forcing out a sad smile. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’ll make sure to record every second, so he’ll feel like he was here.”

“Appreciate it.” I stopped short of saying anything else because I didn’t want to get myself worked up. For someone who prided themselves in being calm, I was feeling a lot of things tonight, but none of them were excitement.

What if I didn’t get drafted at all? What would I do? I hadn’t built a plan up other than becoming an NHL goaltender and that fact was starting to make me nervous.

“Excuse me.” A woman dressed in black with a microphone smiled at our row. “Are you Cade Bright’s parents?” When they nodded, she asked, “Would you mind coming down to the stage with me for a few minutes? We’d love to ask you some questions, and also take a few pictures with Cade.”

“Of course. Can my daughter come too?” Cade’s mom asked, pointing to Madison.

Madison raised her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m fine here. I don’t want Dash to be lonely.”

Why the hell did she have to say shit like that and expect me to be fine with it?

Something passe between the Brights, and it was then I realized, she was staying behind because she pitied me. She didn’t want me sitting here on my own while I watched everyone else get picked around me, and although that was a sweet gesture, it made me feel pathetic.

“If you’re sure, Mads?” Her dad squeezed her knee, checking on final time.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Dash is going to get picked next, anyway. Want to make sure I witness it.”

“Good luck, D,” Cade’s dad said before they followed the camera crew.

I leaned back in my chair and rested my hands on my knees, not sure what to do with myself. Madison and I were alone. Something that I made sure wouldn’t happen after I got very close to admitting how much she meant to me. It was a stupid move, one that I would regret forever because I gave her something that felt a lot like hope. Hope that maybe something could happen between us. It couldn’t. I’d solidified that decision in the last two months by avoiding her as much as possible.

“You good, Big Man?” Madison asked, and I grumped out a response because anything else risked sounding like a declaration of love.

I took a sharp breath, taking my time to blow it out as I watched Cade getting his picture taken while his parents proudly watched on. We had at least another five minutes before the next pick was due and I had no idea what to talk about with Madison.

Madison crossed her legs, bringing her heeled toe into my view, and I couldn’t help myself. I followed the line of her shoe all the way up her smooth legs to the hem of her skirt.

Stop looking.

My brain was telling me things I didn’t want to hear. It was only when I realized she was discreetly texting someone that the voice drowned out.

Who was she messaging?

I straightened my back, hoping I could get a glance at her screen, but her perfectly curled hair was blocking my view.

“Who are you texting?” I asked, so intrigued that I couldn’t stop myself.

She jumped when she heard my voice and quickly turned her phone off and stuffed it into her purse before I could see anything. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she gave me a forced, sweet smile. I knew what that meant.

She was texting a guy.

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