Practice makes perfect, and when you're fighting to be the best in your sport that is especially true. Ryder and Francesca are no exception. They are dedicated to their sport and refuse to let anything distracted. But when a scheduling conflict forc...
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The locker room is dead silent as we all pile in. We are up 3 goals but Coach still looks unexplainably pissed at us all. "Do you know you are all trending on twitter? The team and some of you specifically?"
"Sweet," Lawler cheers but Coach turns to him with a look that could make anyone wet their pants.
"Not sweet. Alex, do we want to try this again? What happened to your face?"
Stan's bruises are still pretty noticeable from Wednesday's fight and naturally when we got to the arena Thursday morning Coach asked a ton of questions. I had prepped everyone before hand on the lie about Stan falling down the stairs, choosing to handle Pmans discipline internally as a house instead of letting it fuck up our last few games. Everyones eyes get wide as Coach stares down Stan specifically.
"I slipped," Stan mumbles not making eye contact and instead looking down at his skates like something insanely fascinating is happening with them.
Collectively we all stop breathing. This is about the definition of worse case scenario. I want to pull out my phone and see what is being said about us and which of us are trending but I already know one of those people is me. Which means my parents will see this. My chest suddenly feels like a school bus is parked on top of it.
Coach continues to scold us all and get the full story about the fight but I can't concentrate at all on what he is saying. I can already hear my parents droning on and on about what a fuck up I am, what an embarrassment.
I know this is pretty much a death wish but I grab my phone and leave the locker room. Coach is screaming my name as I stumble to get away. I wonder around the unfamiliar arena until I find my way outside. I sit myself on the ground against the wall and pull my phone out. I have 100s of texts from guys I used to play with, my parents, people from school, and even numbers I don't know but I ignore them all and click on the only contact that hasn't texted me.
"Ry," she answers on the first ring. "Where are you? I thought Coach banned phones from being used between periods."
"Outside," I tell her. "I needed air."
I can hear her saying something to someone, probably Luna, before she replies to me, "Where outside? I am coming to find you."
I do my best to explain where I am and somehow Francesca manages to find me.
"They aren't saying anything bad about you," she assures me as she kneels in front of me. It is rare she gets to see me without a hat so she takes full advantage and runs her fingers through my sweaty hair.
"They won't see it that way." I don't need to clarify who they is.
"Fuck them," she says strongly with a level of conviction that causes me to shiver. "They can go fuck themselves honestly. You are fucking incredible and if the Islanders don't care why should they? Besides who can fault you for breaking up a fight? For being a good, decent guy?"
