Page 6 of Burner Account

Ian:What made her come around?

Nick:Nothing. My brother broke up with her.

Ian:Oh! Yeah, that’s one way to end a standoff.

Nick:Right? LOL I miss the kid, though.

Ian:I bet.

Nick:And don’t get me wrong—she was really nice most of the time. She just got tunnel vision when it came to her kid and everyone else’s lives.

Ian:My sister is the same way. I love her, and we mostly get along. She just gets BIG MAD any time she thinks one of her kids isn’t being prioritized.

Nick:Ugh. I don’t envy you.

We talkedabout families in vague terms, never specifically telling each other where we were from or the names of key players. Still, I felt like I knew him. Really, really knew him. Like I even had a sense of his sister, her kids, his parents.

So what was I missing by keeping this electronic wall between us?

I adjusted the icepack, wincing a little. The local was starting to wear off, letting in a dull ache that would probably be a full-blown throb before too much longer. And I probably looked spectacular. Jack had said there was some bruising on my upper lip and my cheek, and given how many stitches I’d needed, I could imagine I looked like I had a caterpillar wandering below my nose. Yay.

Wouldn’t this be an awesome time for Ian to see my face?

I actually laughed at that. Which hurt. Because, yeah, the feeling was coming back. Ow.

It occurred to me then that Ian was probablyhere. He’d told me earlier he’d be watching the game tonight. In fact, now that the haze of endorphins was clearing and my brain was catching up, I was pretty sure he’d said he had tickets. He was a huge Yellow Jackets fan, and he came to alotof games. He even went to away games sometimes. If he didn’t come to the arena, he watched on TV.

“When the Yellow Jackets are at home, the broadcast is blacked out in Pittsburgh,”he’d said one time.“Shame about my VPN that gets around all that nonsense and lets me watch.”

So, whether from a seat somewhere in the stands or the comfort of his own home, he’d almost certainly watched me try to eat that puck tonight. If nothing else, he’d definitely see the replay sooner or later.

Oh God. How many of my other greatest mistakes had he witnessed without knowing it was me?

Hell. Maybe meeting him was a bad idea after all.

You’re just a coward, Jeffries.

Yeah.

Probably.

Chapter 3

Isaiah

The game went into overtime,but that only lasted forty-two seconds before Pittsburgh scored.

Of course, we all lost our goddamned minds, and not just because overtime always had the adrenaline pumping. They’d beatenSan Diego. The team that had made it all the way to the Cup finals last year, lost in double overtime, and promptly signed four of the Cup winners’ players—including their starting goalie and two of their top six forwards—during the off season. They’d been killing it so far this year.

Beating them felt fucking amazing, and I was just a fan. I could only imagine how elated the Yellow Jackets were, especially as they cleared the bench and piled on their captain and star center, Jett Davis, who’d scored the game winner.

By the time Darren and I left, I was dizzy from adrenaline and cheering my heart out. My throat was raw and my voice was trashed. Tomorrow would be hell—talking over eighth graders was a challenge on agoodday—but it was worth it.

Despite going into OT, the game hadn’t gone too late, and the night wasn’t terribly cold, so we strolled down to the arena’s south entrance. This was where the players usually drove out, and sometimes they’d stop for autographs. Darren and I had both racked up decent collections of signed pucks and photos thanks to shivering out here a few times a season.

There were a bunch of kids waiting this time, too. That was always promising—the players were softies for kids, and they were way more likely to stop if there were kids hanging out here than if it was just adults.

No one was leaving just yet. Not a big surprise—they still had to shower, eat, wade through interviews, and do whatever else hockey players did after a game. Sometimes they’d take off fairly quickly if they had to get to the airport for a late flight, and understandably, they wouldn’t stop for us on those nights. Fortunately, tonight had been game two of a five-game homestand, so maybe they’d stop.

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