Page 128 of The Risk

Another guard stands near the visiting team’s locker room. “Hey,” I greet him, holding up my lanyard. “I’m Coach Jensen’s daughter and the team manager.” The second part is a lie, but I’m hoping it aids my case.

It does. The man quickly steps aside.

I open the door in time to hear my father’s voice. It sounds deadly as fuck. “What thehelldid you have to go and do that for, Rhodes?”

I don’t hear Nate’s mumbled response.

I slowly creep toward where the players are gathered. Nobody notices me. Why would they? I’m hidden in a sea of big bodies that all tower over me.

“Well, Davenport’s out. He’s getting x-rays, but the team doc says she doesn’t need the scans to tell her the wrist is broken.”

My stomach drops. Dad doesn’t sound at all happy, and I don’t blame him. Hunter is out of the game.

“And Rhodes, you’ve been ejected for your part in the scrum.”

Holy shit. Nate’s out, too? They’re our best players!

“On their side, we have Jonah Hemley getting ejected. Which is no big loss to them.” Dad sneers. “The kid was filling in for Coby Chilton, who might’ve pulled a hammy. Except he didn’t pull a damn hammy, and now the power line is back in business.”

My God. This is a travesty. Panic weakens my muscles, because…we might actually lose now.

My father doesn’t vocalize my fear, but I know he’s thinking it, too. And he sounds enraged as he addresses his players. “What the hell went on down there?”

There’s a long, fearful silence. Fitz is the one who finds the ballsto speak up. “From what I gathered, Hunter slept with Hemley’s girlfriend. Unknowingly,” Fitz adds.

“Is this a fucking joke? And if you’re going to screw one of their girlfriends, it couldn’t have beenConnelly’s?” Dad growls. “At least then we wouldn’t have to worry about him.”

Even though I’m upset for my team, I have to swallow a wave of laughter—because I don’t think Dad would be endorsing anyone having sex with Connelly’s girlfriend if he knew it wasme.

Not that I’m Jake’s girlfriend, but I am the girl in his life, and—no, I can’t think about this right now. We’re in crisis mode.

“Jesus, Rhodes. What were you thinking!” Dad is clearly livid at his captain.

I’m not too thrilled with him, either. What happened to being the better man? Nate was so adamant about taking the high road after the whipped-cream incident, ordering Wilkes not to retaliate. And now he goes and loses his cool on the ice? Retaliating against Hemley for the attack on Hunter? It’s completely unlike him.

Nate’s tone tells me that he’s as angry and disgusted with himself as my father is. “I snapped,” he says shamefully. “That asshole broke Hunter’s wrist, Coach. And then he had the balls to say Hunterdeservedit. It was the most sickening thing I’d heard, and…I snapped,” he repeats. “I’m sorry, Coach.”

“I hear you, kid. But an apology ain’t gonna put you back in this game.”

AKA, we’re utterly screwed.

I edge backward and leave the locker room. “Doesn’t sound good in there,” the security man says sympathetically.

“It’s not.”

I hurry back to our seats, where I file a report with Summer and the others. “Looks like Hunter is out, and so is Nate.”

Summer gasps.

So does Rupi, who as usual is dressed like a walking J. Crew ad.Or a super-prissy American Girl doll. I wonder how many girlie, collared dresses she actually owns. Thousands, probably.

“This is a disaster!” Summer moans.

“Yup,” I say morosely, and we’re not wrong.

When the second period gets underway, you can see the difference in Briar’s game almost immediately. It’s like watching an Olympic sprinter crush the first heat of the 100-meter dash, only to come out for the next heat to find that there are spikes on the track. Without Nate, the captain of the team, and Hunter, our best forward, we’re struggling right out of the gate. Fitz and Hollis can’t carry the entire team. Our younger players aren’t fully developed yet, and the best ones, Matt Anderson and Jesse Wilkes, are physically incapable of keeping up with Connelly.

My eyes track Jake as he scores early in the second. It’s a beautiful shot, a work of art. Now Harvard is leading 2–1. And two minutes before the end of the period, Weston gives Harvard a power play by drawing a penalty from Fitz, who rarely visits the box.

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