Page 32 of Faking the Face Off

Inside the box, I slam myself down hard, the cold plastic of the seat doing nothing to cool the fire in my veins. The crowd still buzzes, their energy electric. I rub at the sting under my eye, already imagining the bruise that will be there in all of its dark purple gloriousness tomorrow.

Five minutes feels like five hours, but I finally get back on the ice, and the game is moving fast. Too fast. The Renegades are down by one, and every second counts.

Then the whistle blows, halting play, and the team is called over for a huddle by the bench. I skate in, trying to shake the fog from my head as the guys crowd around.

“Let’s go, Renegades!” someone shouts from the stands, and the crowd echoes back, the noise like a physical force.

“Hey.” Noah’s voice cut through the chaos, low but firm. He grabs my elbow and pulls me aside. “You need to snap out of it.”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, avoiding his gaze.

“Bull,” he snaps sharply. His eyes scan my face, lingering on the bruise under my eye. “What’s going on, Ollie? That’s not you out there.”

“I said I’m fine,” I fire back at him, but I don’t even believe it.

Noah sighs, crossing his arms. “Look, I don’t know what’s eating at you, but I’ve been around long enough to know when a player’s head isn’t in the game. And right now? Yours isn’t.”

My jaw tightens, but I don’t respond.

“You see those signs up there?” He nods toward the stands, and I glance up at a cluster of signs; some have my name on them, others are being waved that say #Ollieanna. “Your fans, Ollie. They believe in you. Your team believes in you. Are you really gonna let whatever’s in your head or what your dad said to you mess that up?”

I glance up again, catching sight of a group of fans waving their signs wildly. The letters stand out in bold, almost mocking me. But their enthusiasm isn’t mocking—it’s hope. Excitement. They believed in me more than I believe in myself right now.

Noah leans in closer, his voice dropping. “I don’t know what he said to you.”

I stiffen, my stomach twisting. The fact I’ve let my dad sneak into this part of me, something that is mine and only mine, is not only embarrassing but disappointing.

“But he doesn’t matter,” Noah continues. “What matters is right here.” He taps his chest. “Your heart, Ollie. Your team. That’s why you’re here. Not for him. For Ben. For you. Forus.”

I swallow hard, his words hitting me in a way I don’t want to admit.

“Now get back out there and play like you mean it,” he says, giving me a shove toward the ice.

The whistle blows again, signaling the start of play. I take a deep breath, the noise of the arena settling into a steady hum around me. This is my moment, my ice.

Time to make it count.

CHAPTER 12

ANNA

The arena feels strange when it’s quiet, like a sleeping giant. Sunlight streams through the high windows, casting pale streaks across the ice. I lean against the boards, staring at the smooth, untouched surface. The team’s been on the road for a few days, and without them, the building feels empty, like a ghost of itself.

My phone vibrates in my hand and I feel the corners of my lips turning upward. Another text from Ollie; they’ve been almost nonstop since yesterday’s game.

We’re close. Should be there in about ten minutes.

I’m here, printing out a photo of Jimmy so we can tape it to a dart board this week.

I like it. Now I need to get a dart board.

His quick comebacks, and lightning fingers with the texting, are some serious skills.

Seeing that you were solely responsible for the last two goals to win the game, I bet you can afford to treat yourself.

What a game it was. Thankfully, the team in Chicago streams their games, so I was able to catch the last part of it and it was amazing. Wait, I stand corrected: Ollie was amazing. I’m not sure what happened between the last two periods to drop him on the ice on a mission, but it worked.

While I’ve got his attention and he’s stuck on a bus, I pull up some images I’d been meaning to send to him and flick them his way. The mayor’s ball is next week and we need to coordinate our outfits for the night, if nothing else just to make my tiny teenage heart happy.

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