Page 97 of Cross Check Hearts

She clearly recognizes me, which is both flattering and nerve-wracking. If the school staff knows who I am, the students definitely will too, which means higher expectations.

“Go ahead and sign in on the form there for me, and I’ll get you a visitor’s badge,” she tells me, pointing at a piece of paper on a clipboard on the counter in front of me. I pick up the pen beside it and scribble my name and signature on it, and by the time I’m done, she’s holding a badge out for me. It’s nothing special, just something I can wear to let other staff know I’m supposed to be here.

“All done?” the secretary asks as she leans over the counter to check my work. I nod and slip the badge over my head. “Great. Follow me. Principal Cyprus wants to meet you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Mrs. Cyprus is the one I’ve been communicating with to organize this whole thing, so that makes sense. The secretary steps out from behind the counter and leads me farther down the hall beyond it until we stop outside a closed office door with the wordsPrincipal Julia Cyprusetched into it. The secretary knocks politely.

“Come in,” Mrs. Cyprus calls, so the secretary opens the door and waves me in.

“Mr. Murray is here to see you,” she tells the principal.

Mrs. Cyprus immediately stands to hurry around her desk and shake my hand. She holds it tight, her warm brown eyes sparkling as she smiles at me. “It’s wonderful to meet you! Thank you so much for coming to do this. I can’t tell you how much it means to me, or how much the kids are going to appreciate it.”

I nod, but all I can focus on is the way my blood seems to be rushing in my ears. I can’t remember the last time I felt this anxious. It wasn’t even this bad when I tried out for the Aces, and that was probably the most high-stakes thing I’ve ever done in my life.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Thanks for inviting me,” I say. She releases my hand, and I shove it in my pocket. “Sorry. I’m a little nervous.”

Mrs. Cyprus’s warm smile broadens, revealing perfectly straight white teeth. “Totally understandable. There’s nothing more menacing than a crowd of teenagers.”

I can’t help laughing along with her despite my nerves, because she’s right. I was a teenager once, so I know exactly how ruthless they can be.

But it’s not just the content of my speech I’m worried about. I’ve had my dyslexia under control for a long time and learned a lot of skills to manage it over the years, but I’ve never been asked to read in front of a giant crowd like this before. So I don’t know what’s going to happen. I have the speech memorized just in case I have trouble reading it, but I’m worried my nerves and the lingering symptoms from my concussion might make that difficult too.

“I’ve already called all the students to the auditorium for the assembly. Are you ready, or do you need a few minutes?” Mrs. Cyprus asks.

Despite the lump in my throat, I shrug. “Nope, I’m ready now.”

She must sense my lingering nerves, because she puts a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, I’ve seen you play. I don’t think you have anything to worry about with these kids. And I’ll be there to keep them in line if they get too rowdy.”

“Thanks. I’ll take all the emotional support I can get. I’m a hockey player, not a motivational speaker.”

Mrs. Cyprus chuckles and pats my arm. “I’d give you the age-old advice to just pretend everyone is in their underwear, but that would be kind of weird, wouldn’t it?”

That pulls another laugh out of me, and when she smiles again, I realize what she’s up to with all the joking because I feel way more comfortable now.

“Alright. Let’s go knock their socks off,” she says with a wink.

She leads me through the school and into the auditorium where hundreds of students are already packed into the theater-style seats. The school must be well resourced because everything looks new and well maintained, which is saying something when a bunch of teenagers are using the equipment.

A hush ripples through the audience when they see me walk in and start striding down the aisle toward the stage, no doubt because they all recognize me, but it only makes the nerves I thought I’d gotten rid of come rushing back.

Because this is real now. This is happening. Now that I’m in the auditorium, I can’t leave until I’ve gotten through my speech or dashed off the stage in embarrassment. But Mrs. Cyprus was right—there’s nothing quite as terrifying as having hundreds of students’ eyes on you at once. Not even the most packed hockey game I’ve played with the Aces comes close.

Just be yourself, Murray. That’s what they wanted when they asked you to come here. Everything else will fall into place.

Despite the way my heart is lodged in my throat, making it difficult to breathe and swallow, I take a few quick, deep breaths to steady myself and run through some of my lines one more time in my head. When I glance over at Mrs. Cyprus, she’s smiling slightly, and she nods at me.

“You’ve got this,” she mouths as she gestures toward the stage.

My eyes follow her hand, but I can’t seem to make my feet move. I just stand there, frozen, knowing that everyone in the auditorium is watching me and waiting for me to get up there and say something. I blink a few times, then imagine Hannah standing on the stage steps, beckoning me up toward her.

That’s all it takes. With a new sense of confidence, I stride forward with my head held high and my shoulders back. I’m not just going to give this speech, I’m going to crush it to make Hannah proud. And to hopefully show Dunaway and the rest of the world that there’s so much more to me than just my skills on the ice.

I take the stairs two at a time, then turn to walk toward the podium where there’s already a live mic mounted and waiting for me. It takes a few minutes for all the chatter to die down after I step in front of the podium with Mrs. Cyprus right behind me, but when it does, she steps up and taps the mic a few times to make sure it’s working.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming,” she says, her voice booming throughout the auditorium. For some reason, I didn’t take into account that I’d be hearing my own voice while I was speaking. That makes me flinch a little, but I’ll get through it. No one likes the sound of their own voice.