Page 89 of Face Me Off

Mom reaches out, her hand trembling slightly as she touches my arm. “We’ve been so focused on what we thought was best for you we didn’t notice your incredible talent.”

“We didn’t recognize the artist in you,” Dad adds, his eyes filled with regret and pride. “And for that, we’re truly sorry.”

My mouth gapes as I try to find my voice. It’s like I’m standing at center ice, the crowd roaring, but I can’t hear a thing. “You really mean that?”

Mom nods. “We do, sweetheart. Your art... it’s opened our eyes to who you really are.”

Without thinking, I throw my arms around them both and pull them close.

“I was so scared if I showed you the real me, I’d lose you.” My voice is muffled against Dad’s shoulder, but he must hear me. His arms tighten around me.

“Never, Maddy. We might not have always understood, but we’ll always love you.”

“So,” I say, pulling back slightly to look at them both, “does this mean you’re okay with me ditching the dental floss for paintbrushes?”

They laugh, and the sound is like music to my ears. For the first time in forever, I feel like I can truly be myself—the artist, the dreamer, the wild spirit I’ve always been underneath. As Ilook around at my artwork and at my parents’ proud faces, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I’ve finally found my place.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

RYAN

Cheers eruptin the front room as Madison texts me. Massachusetts must have scored. Good. I’m still bitter. Half the hockey team sits in our living room, all eyes glued to the TV. The Frozen Four is on, and every soul here is invested.

Maddy: We’ll be there in about ten.

Me: Hurry up and get your cute ass here. It’s the third period.

She was supposed to be here by now but wanted to wait until Amanda finished. I believe her exact words were, “There’s too much testosterone for my liking.”

Fair enough.

But I’d rather have her with me.

“Yo, Sorenson, grab a beer and get your ass over here,” Easton calls out. “Colorado’s about to get smoked; just watch.”

I nod, snagging a cold one from the fridge before joining the guys. As the puck drops, a collective cheer erupts but dies a sudden death when Colorado’s forward steals the puck.

Fucking Colorado.

We were so close this year, so damn close to being the ones on that screen. I can still feel the sting of our early exit. The taste of bitterness from unfinished business hasn’t diminished. But that’s the thing about hockey. It’s not just a game, it’s a promise. A vow to come back stronger, faster, hungrier. And next year? Next year, we’ll be the ones leaving it all on the ice.

I take a swig of my beer as I sink into the couch, my eyes never leaving the screen. The Colorado players are good; I’ll give them that. But they’re not unbeatable. We proved that point when we beat them the first time we played them.

But they got the last laugh when they eliminated us from the playoffs. And the more I watch, the more a fire ignites within me. I’m determined to prove the Cessna U Wildcats aren’t just a team but a force to be reckoned with.

“Did you see that save? Unreal.” Andrew jabs an elbow into my side.

I lean forward, studying every move. “That’s the kind of play we need to bring next season. No holding back, no second-guessing. Just pure, unadulterated grit.”

“Next year, these fuckers aren’t going to know what hit them,” Jonas says.

“Yeah, I hate the taste of defeat,” Blake says.

“Same. We’ll be ready for them,” Jonas says.

The door swings open, and laughter rolls into the living room. I glance over my shoulder and smile as Maddy and Amanda stumble inside. My girl’s eyes light up the moment they meet mine. My heart does a little flip, and I can’t help but grin back.

“Yo, Maddy! Amanda! Glad you could make it,” Easton calls out, raising his beer in greeting.

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