Page 19 of The Pucks We Freeze
“I found this,” I said quietly. “In your hoodie pocket while doing laundry. Thought I’d ask before jumping to conclusions.”
Kade glanced over, brows pinching slightly. “You read it?”
“Enough to know it’s not a grocery list.”
He exhaled through his nose and focused on the road ahead. “It’s how I track irregular plays. Missed shifts. Turnovers. Stuff that doesn’t match the film or playbook.”
The wipers squeaked once across the windshield.
I looked down at the note in my hands, the colored dots and shorthand codes. “So you’ve been watching for a while.”
“It’s not detective work,” he said, voice low. “It’s defense. If someone’s screwing with the game, I want to know before it blows up in our faces.”
He didn’t saybefore it hurts someone, but I could hear it in the way his jaw clenched.
The hockey house came into view then, loud and chaotic, lit with strings of mismatched lights and pulsing music spilling into the street. People crowded the porch, red Solo cups raised in greeting, laughter tumbling out from the kitchen like smoke.
Kade parked at the curb and hopped out. I stayed frozen, still holding the note.
He leaned down to open my door, eyes briefly scanning the paper before gently taking it from me and tucking it into his pocket. His hand brushed the small of my back as we walked inside.
“That’s Talon,” he said as we stepped into the kitchen. The guy by the fridge didn’t move much. Tall, broad, dark-haired, and observant. His presence made people move out of his way without realizing why.
Talon’s eyes landed on me. “Willow, right? You’re friends with Hayes’s girlfriend, Everly.”
I nodded, sensing something behind the question.
“My sister’s Tatum,” he added after a beat.
Tatum Pierce. We both went to Rixton, but we never ran in the same circles. I mostly remembered her in passing, with a bright smile and a quiet confidence. When she transferred to Braysen, though, whispers spread fast through our friend group. No one knew exactly why, but everyone had a theory.
“I know,” I said carefully. “I’ve seen her around campus… but I’d never say anything.”
Talon held my gaze a moment longer before giving a slight, almost imperceptible nod. A silent understanding passed between us, and the tension in the air finally eased.
The bass picked up again, pulsing through the floorboards. That was when I saw her. Cassidy Hill, or Cass as I used to call her. She stood near the hallway with a drink in hand, her braid draped over one shoulder, looking exactly like she had back then.
We hadn’t spoken in over a year, not really. A few likes on social media. A “happy birthday” text that felt more like an obligation than tradition. But when her eyes found mine, something warm flickered. Recognition. Relief. Maybe even regret.
“Willow?” She blinked, then broke into a grin. “Oh my God, I thought that was you!”
We closed the space between us in a few steps and collided in a hug that felt both awkward and familiar, like muscle memory.
“You’re home?” I asked, pulling back.
She laughed. “Spring break. I needed a break from Kolmont before I lost it completely. And you? What are you doing here?”
“I’m helping out at the lodge for a bit. My dad had surgery,” I explained. “Just temporary.”
She tilted her head, giving me a once-over. “You look good. Different, but good.”
I smiled. “You too. More grown up or something.”
Cass let out a soft laugh. “Guess college’ll do that to you.”
I shrugged. “Yeah… or life.”
We stood there for a second, hovering in that space between nostalgia and small talk, both of us silently feeling out whether our friendship still had a pulse.
