by Lexie Syrah
I can’t reply to any of them. What should I say? Pretty banged up ribs, nasty bruise, oh yeah, and now Al’s a girl. My paranoid brain runs rampant — are any of my other teammates keeping things from me the way Al did?
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. None of them had what Al and I did…that chemistry on and off the ice. My mind flashes back to that insanely hot girl in the hotel room. How could she kiss me like that and then play with me the next day as if nothing had happened?
I try to merge the two people together: Alice and Al.
I just can’t.
“Tremblay, you’re up,” Coach Z says. I stand, about to jump over the bench when Coach puts a hand on my shoulder. “Bell’s going to be all right. Myong’s taking him to the hospital, just as a precaution.”
Hearing Coach talk about Al makes me sick. He has no idea. Al was so damn sly. All his little tricks start to make sense: coming to games in full gear, being allergic to soap, that stupid nasally voice. All part of the lie.
I nod, but Coach doesn’t let go of my shoulder. “I know Fredlund gave Bell a big hit, but the best way to make them pay isn’t to hit back harder.”
I try to move away, but Coach grips my jersey harder. I sigh and turn, until I’m eye to eye with him. Instead of anger, his face is full of concern. He really thinks I’m going to go out and start a fight with Fredlund. Coach doesn’t realize Al isn’t worth it. Why would I defend a liar like that?
“You’re the captain now,” he says. “Show them what that means.”
I give another nod then dash onto the ice. What does it mean? Al was the one who helped me earn the C. We had a plan to make it happen. But none of that meant anything to him at all.
Her. To her at all.
Furious anger rises in me again. I tighten my grip on the stick and concentrate on the roar of the crowd. I skate to center ice, ready to take the faceoff. My whole body burns with violent energy. I need to play.
Fredlund skates across from me. My teeth grit and the image of him knocking into Al flashes across my vision. Somehow, his dirty check passed as legal, but I knew he was trying to hurt her.
My blood boils and I stare him down, daring him to say something. He meets my gaze with pale eyes and that smug look that tells me he knows exactly what he did.
“Crying that your little crony got hurt?” he sneers. “What are you going to do without anyone to feed you goals?”
I breathe in and out, trying to remember Coach’s words, but Fredlund’s voice fills me with sick adrenaline.
He throws his head back. “What a sorry excuse for a captain! You should have seen your face when Bell went down. White as a ghost. Like you’ve never seen a hit before.”
His words course through me, like he’s filling me with toxic fuel. I give him a small smile, daring him to keep going. It’ll only make it worse for you.
He darts his eyes to the ref, who skates toward us with the puck, then whispers just low enough for me to hear. “But that’s not true. You’ve seen a big hit before, when you waved bye-bye to Mommy and Daddy.”
The ref hovers with the puck between us. Fredlund wins the faceoff and scoots off down the ice.
I move without even reading the play. I don’t realize what I’m doing until I’m almost on him. I skate faster. Fredlund passes the puck, and now it’s on the other side of the rink.
It doesn’t matter. He brought my mom and dad into this.
And he hurt Alice.
Fredlund wanted a fight…now he’s going to get it. I slam into him as hard as I can. I’ve never been more ready for a fight in my entire life. But I don’t get a chance. He sails forward and crashes face first onto the ice.
And doesn’t get up.
Alice
“I’m not sitting in that,” I say to Ma. She stands in the doorway of my hospital room, hands on the wheelchair. I shove past it and step into the hallway.
“It’s only a few bruised ribs,” I say. “Nothing’s broken!”
“But the doctor said to be gentle, sweetheart!”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” ‘Be gentle’ in doctor-speak means I’ll be out for the next five games. Madison headed back to the rink to deliver the bad news to Coach. I hope he’s not too upset, or reconsidering his decision to give me the A. Not that I did a single thing to earn it today.
Mom toddles up behind me and forces me to put on my winter jacket: a bright pink one with a faux fur trim that she bought me two Christmases ago. If I include today, this will make a grand total of one time that I’ve worn it.
I look at my mother. She scurried over here as fast as she could once I texted her I was in the hospital. Mascara is splotched around her eyes.
Oh no, her tears were not from seeing my pain or my bruised ribs.
It’s from when she walked into the hospital room and saw my choppy bob.
Yes, my mother cried because I cut my hair. The only bright side of this entire day is knowing I’ll never have to wear fake hair extensions ever again.
Still, Ma came as soon as she heard I was in the hospital.
“Hey, Mom,” I say quietly. “Thanks.”
Her eyes dart up and her body is stiller than I’ve ever seen it.
“I know I don’t always make things easy on you,” I say, looking down, “and I don’t tell you enough how much I appreciate you. You work so hard to make sure Xander and I can keep doing what we love.” I meet her eyes. “I love you, Ma.”
Her bottom lip pops out and trembles like a nervous Chihuahua. “Alice,” she says and takes my hand. “Maybe I won’t ever understand why you love hockey. But I do understand that I love you so much…even with that haircut.”
I laugh and pull her close for a hug. “I’m still not sitting in that wheelchair.”
Mom relents and we walk down to the lobby. Mom lines up at the reception desk to complete my discharge papers. “Where’s Xander?” I ask.
“He was at the theater for rehearsal. I gave him a call but his phone was off. “
So I don’t have to face Xander quite yet. I take in a deep breath. It hurts, but less than earlier, thanks to the drugs I’m on.
“ALICE!”
I turn. Sitting in the lobby, a bag of ice pressed up against his face, is Freddy.
The first thing I do is put the hood up on my fluffy pink coat. In my mind, I begrudgingly thank my mother for this perfect disguise. Next, I walk as far away from Mom as I can. If Freddy mentions anything about Xander playing hockey in front of her, I’m dead.
He gets up and walks over to me. I notice his right hand is bound. Something must have happened after I got knocked down, because I definitely took the worst of that hit. He throws his ice pack down on one of the lobby chairs, revealing a bloody mess of a nose, slanting drastically to one side of his face.
“Alice,” he says again, and wraps his arms around me. I go stiff, not just because he’s pressing against the ribs he bruised two hours ago, but because being this close to Freddy is like being hugged by a giant rat, with his slimy tail slithering around me. I push away from him.
“You do know we broke up, right?” I growl. Typical Freddy, still trying to make me his property.
He laughs, and runs a hand through his blond curls. I notice the ends have a bit of dried blood on them. “Me and your bro had a little run in today.” He shrugs. “How’s he doing?”
“Bruised ribs,” I hiss. “Xander did that to you?” I point toward his bandaged hand.
“Just a couple dislocated fingers.” He sighs and looks off into the distance. I think I know who did it, but I hope I’m wrong. “Falcons have one fucked up captain. Serves him right, though. He’s suspended for five games.” He laughs and my stomach sinks all the way to the floor. Hayden just got captain! He can’t be suspended, not now. The team needs him.
I need him.
“Look, Alice.” Freddy steps forward and I take one back to keep the distance between us. “I was gonna call.”
I can barely look at him, so I stare at Ma,
still at the reception desk. “Freddy,” I mumble, “I don’t care. I gotta go…”
He grabs my arm. “I’m sure Xander’s told you things about me, but they’re not true. He doesn’t know what he saw.”
I feel my arm shaking, like I’m afraid. Afraid of Freddy? No. Afraid of what he’s taken away from me. My pride. The trust between my brother and me. Rage simmers in my pained chest and my breath is hot and heavy with this anger.
“Xander was confused. That girl was my—”
“Freddy. Stop.” I yank my arm away. “I know you purposely hurt my brother today. I know everything you’ve said to him. Everything you’ve said about him.”
Freddy takes a step back now.
“I don’t care if he’s gay or not. It doesn’t matter,” I say, and I don’t care that my voice is so loud, the entire lobby turns to us. “You know what does matter? That damaged hand of yours. You wanna know why?”
He shakes his head, but I go on. “Maybe it will heal. Maybe it won’t. Maybe it’ll just ache a little every time you hold your stick, or maybe your shot will be just an inch off. But that’s a big deal for a mediocre player like you. Maybe now your punches won’t be as hard. Maybe the Ice Wolves will realize they don’t need a conniving, undermining, asshole like you on their team.”
For the first time ever, he’s silent.
“Or maybe not.” I shrug. “But I know I don’t need your conniving, undermining asshole self around me or my brother. Leave us alone and maybe your next trip to Chicago won’t be spent in the ER.”
He backs away, but hits the lobby chair. I can tell he’s trying to think of something to say back to me, but his mind keeps drawing a blank, judging from that stricken look on his face.
A presence comes up from behind me and I feel a hand tighten on my shoulder. “Ready to go, sweetie?”
I turn and smile at Ma. “Yeah.”
“Oh hello, Galen!” My mom beams. “So nice to see you again!”
He nods and stutters, “Hi, R-Rosaline.”
“Oh Galen, look at you! Your handsome face…ruined!” She puts an arm around me and pulls me close. “It’s been a rough night, tonight. Our poor Alice was playing in her women’s league and got knocked against the board and bruised her ribs. She told me it even shattered the glass!”
I stop breathing. I can’t even move.
Freddy doesn’t move either. Not his body anyways. But his eyes come alive, looking me over with a sick understanding.
Mom keeps chattering on about her upcoming Ice Ball, what a cute couple we were, her new charity, but none of it matters. All that matters is the look he’s giving me.
I thought I’d won. I thought I’d gotten the best of him.
But Freddy exploits weaknesses like the shark he is, and he’s just found blood.
I think my mother says good-bye, because Freddy shakes her hand, then smirks at me. “See you around.”
I walk like a statue toward the exit, one stone step at a time, when I hear him call out: “Hey Alice!”
I don’t want to turn around, but I do, seeing his pale eyes and blood-smattered face. “Tell Al I’ll see him on the ice.”
Chapter Sixteen
Hayden
“A five-game suspension.” Kevin draws out each word like its own separate sentence. Like each word is another knife I personally drove into his heart.
I shift uncomfortably on the kitchen chair. The overhead light is fluorescent, making me feel like I’m sitting in an interrogation office.
At the beginning of the night, when Coach Z first handed me the jersey with the C, I thought tonight would be amazing. I’d come home… No, we’d come home. Al and I. Best friends who worked hard together for our letters. I’d hold it out for Kevin to see, and he’d…
Well, I don’t know what he’d do. I don’t even know what I wanted from him.
Not this, that’s for fucking sure. Him standing above me, lecturing me, like he’s my goddamn father.
But Dad was never like this.
Or maybe he never had to be…
Because I was never like this. Not until after the accident.
“Coach Zabinski showed me the replay of that hit, Hayden. What were you thinking, coming up behind him? You’re lucky he just hurt his hand. You could have seriously injured him. You know better. I know you do.” He runs a hand over his beard, then says more softly, “You did that on purpose. You wanted to hurt him.”
My hands tighten on the chair. I don’t have anything to say, because, yes, I wanted to hurt Fredlund. But I can’t tell my brother why.
Kevin turns his back, rests his hand on the edge of the countertop, his knuckle white. I was a fool to think things would be different once we got back from Winnipeg.
“You’ve been…so different this season. For the better. Zabinski told me you made Captain tonight.”
I cross my arms and sink down. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t,” Kevin says, turning around to look at me. “You’ve left the Falcons without a captain for five games.”
I hear the door click open in the hallway, followed by Eleanor’s bright voice. “Goood evening, family!” she chimes. “I’ve brought home Thai food!”
I get up and storm toward my basement suite. I can’t see Eleanor, not right now. I can’t have the two of them look at me, the black spot in their happy family.
I collapse on my ice-cold bed and grab my phone.
Seventeen missed calls from “Al”. Thirty-two text messages. The last one reads: “I’m outside.” That was twenty minutes ago. Why would she be here?
Slowly, I get up. There’s no way she was stupid enough to wait around in the cold. I open my door and look down to see a neon pink heap curled on my stoop.
She’s waiting for me.
…
Alice
The door finally opens. I jump up, heart lurching into gear, then casually try to brush the snow off my jacket so he doesn’t realize how long I’ve been sitting out here. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
He takes a moment to answer, and I realize he’s taking me in, like the witness of an accident. With sudden horror, I realize I’m still wearing the pink jacket with faux fur that Mom brought for me at the hospital. I cross my arms, trying to hide as much of the monstrosity as I can.
My thoughts run rampant as I wait for his silent judgement to end. I know I should be at home resting—and waiting for these painkillers to wear off—but instead I snuck out and drove here. I have to make sure everything is still…
Still what? The same? Because it’s not. And I know it never will be again.
Finally, he meets my gaze. “What are you doing here?”
“I, uh…” I swallow, my voice hoarse from the cold, dry air. “I thought we should talk about…this.”
“I told you before. I won’t tell anyone your secret. Is there anything else?”
I bite my lip. Well, that pretty much sums it up. I needed to know he won’t tell Coach or any of the other players…and I believe him. Yet I stand here fidgeting, while my heart hammers against my sore rib cage.
Finally, when I can’t bare the silence anymore, I say: “Uh, no. That’s it.”
He begins to shut the door. “Okay. Bye.”
My stomach feels heavy. I tilt back my head and groan. “Hayden…look, I’m sorry, okay?”
He pushes the door a bit more closed. “Yeah, okay. See you.”
I throw my hand forward, stopping the door. Dark circles rim his eyes, and he’s pale as the ice. “Are…are we okay?”
He doesn’t release his pressure on the door, and I find myself pushing hard to keep it open. “Are we okay?” he repeats.
“Like friends?”
He laughs, but there’s no joy in it. “Friends?” He spits out the word, as if the sound of it is toxic. “I don’t even know you.”
“B-but,” I stammer.
He puts his face right against the crack in the door. Golden light trickles out ar
ound him, but it makes his face completely black. “Al was my best friend. I shared things with Al I’ve never shared with anyone. He was my friend because of our conversations, our memories. I valued his humor. His honesty. You have none of those things. You, Alice Bell, are a stranger to me.”
My body trembles. I want to tell him that he’s wrong. That it was me—the real me—all those times. Everything I said to him, everything we did, was real. But how can I even know that’s the truth, when all of it was messed up in a tangled lie?
He stares down, cast in shadow, and waits for me to speak.
But I’ve never been very good with words. There’s only one way to show him all of this was real, that despite the lies, my feelings are true. I push against the door, grab his neck, and kiss him.
At first, he does nothing. His body is rigid and straight, and his mouth cold beneath mine. Then he moves. His hands start in my hair, tangling around the back of my head before drifting down my neck to the small of my back. I gasp as he brushes against my ribs, but he steals my breath in a kiss.
I push into him, losing myself in his touch. His lips are crushing, hungry for mine, and I lace my fingers through his curly hair.
Then, in an instant, he pulls away. I lean against the doorframe, my vision spinning. His face is curled in disgust.
Hayden shakes his head and wipes his mouth. “You’re manipulative, Alice Bell, and I’m tired of being your pawn. Leave.”
The shadows and light swirl together as my eyes fill with tears. I want to yell at him. To push him. To tell him he doesn’t understand. But none of it will do any good. I don’t feel like a hockey player. Or a good sister. Or anything at all. I just feel like a girl who got her heart broken.
Chapter Seventeen
Alice
The mascara Madison made me put on runs down my face. The whole audience is in stitches. Even though each bout of laughter makes my bruised ribs ache, I can’t stop howling.
Mom turns to me. “I don’t get it.” At least she’s trying.
Xander’s play was an absolute hit. When he comes out to take his bow, the audience rises to their feet, hooting and hollering. How could I not have realized he was the lead? All these months, I was so concerned about my acting, I didn’t even think once about his.