Page 132 of Blindside Me
Blake watches me with an expression I can’t read. Ryan’s eyes stay fixed on his skate laces. Easton’s usual smirk has faded to something more serious.
“I’m figuring out why I lost control like that.” This is harder. Vulnerability has never been my strong suit. I glance down at my scarred knuckles and continue, “And how to make sure it never happens again. You deserve better than a teammate who can’t keep his shit together when it matters.”
The locker room remains quiet. Just the hum of the ventilation system and the distant sound of pucks hitting the boards from early arrivals already on the ice, that for once isn’t me.
Easton leans forward, a smirk returning full force. “Bro, we all knew you were holding tension from Hickey Dick. Should’ve just hit the ice with that energy sooner.”
“Excuse me?” I laugh too, short and surprised, but the weight doesn’t lift. Not completely. They don’t know what it costs. And I’m not about to tell them.
“Dude.” He waves a hand dismissively. “You’ve been wound tighter than my grandmother’s girdle since Thanksgiving. Something had to give.”
Blake laughs, and the sound breaks something loose in my chest. “You’re not supposed to bodycheck the entire state of Colorado, Klaas. Just the guys wearing the wrong jersey.”
“So what was it?” Ryan pipes up, finally looking at me. “His fucking attitude or revenge for hickey dick?”
I stare at him, heat climbing my neck. “That bruise didn’t come from his sister.” Not a lie. “I fell wrong.”
“Bullshit!” The entire room responds in perfect unison, followed by more laughter.
I can’t help it. I laugh too, a short, startled sound that feels foreign in my throat. But inside, I’m flinching. No way am I going to drag Jade into this. She’s not some locker room story for these guys to pick apart.
“Mystery Girl for the win.” A voice from the back calls.
“It wasn’t about a girl.”Entirely.I meet their eyes again. “It was about me. Stuff I’ve been holding in too long.”
The guys exchange glances but don’t press further. I’m grateful for that small mercy. What happened between Jade and me is ours, not entertainment for the team.
“For what it’s worth,” Blake says, rising from his spot to approach me, “that right hook was a thing of beauty.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Ryan groans. “Coach will have us doing suicides till graduation.”
Blake claps my shoulder, his hand warm and solid. “Glad you’re back, man. Wasn’t the same without you scowling at everyone’s tape jobs.”
The knot in my chest loosens slightly. I didn’t expect forgiveness to come this easily. Didn’t think I deserved it.
“Just…” Blake’s voice drops so only I can hear. “Whatever’s going on with you and Coach’s niece, and don’t give me that look. I have eyes, so handle it better, yeah?”
I nod once, a tight jerk of my head. “Working on it.”
Easton’s voice cuts through the moment. “You know the rule, Klaas. First guy back from suspension owes everyone wings.”
“Since when is that a rule?” I ask, but my heart isn’t in the argument. The familiar banter feels like home after weeks of tension and silence.
“Since always,” he insists. “It’s in the bylaws, section four, paragraph seven: ‘Thou shalt provide Buffalo Wild Wings upon return from hockey jail.’”
I roll my eyes, but the gesture feels like stepping back into a skin that fits. “Fine. But I’m not ordering for Easton. Guy thinks lemon pepper is a food group.”
This time, the laughter feels earned. Like maybe I haven’t completely fucked everything up after all.
The guys return to their pre-practice routines. And I’ve been welcomed back, for now.
Not because I’m perfect. Not because I didn’t mess up.
But because I owned it, and that’s what teams do. They catch you when you fall.
That’s the first lesson in figuring out who I want to be. Not the guy who never fails. But the guy who owns it when he does.
Country argues with Ryan about some girl from a party last weekend, while Blake methodically wraps his wrists with the same precise movements he’s used since freshman year. The normalcy feels like a gift after weeks of isolation, like I’ve been handed back a piece of myself I’d forgotten was missing.
