Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
It isn’t until we’re in the car on the way back to our place that Brody turns to me. “Dude, you haven’t said a word since the locker room. What’s going on?”
“Alex Waters knows I suck.”
Gage frowns. “What? I was standing beside you the whole time. He didn’t say that."
“Keep it up. He said keep it up. And he knows I had a rough start to the season, and that I’ve been on the ice with Roman.”
“You’ve been on the ice with Hammerstein?” Chase asks.
“Forrest-Hammer,” I correct.
“You know what I mean. Since when have you been on the ice with the most legendary goalie in all of hockey history?” Chase presses. “And why the hell didn’t you tell us?”
“Fee arranged it a while ago. After I had that really shitty game against Windsor.” I clarify the timeline since all of my games were shitty up to that point.
“Well fuck, dude, that’s cool,” Gage shakes his head in amazement.
“You know we would get on the ice and practice with you,” Brody says.
“We’re already on the ice together all the time. I don’t want you to overdo it on my account. Besides, it was a one-time thing, and a surprise, and I didn’t really want to say anything because I’m already sucking the teat and even Alex fucking Waters knows.” I let my head fall back against the seat rest. “What if I never get a spot in the Hockey Academy? I’ll end up being a PT for the hockey team I wanted to play on, but can’t, because I keep choking!”
Brody pulls into the driveway and turns to look at me. “Bro.”
“It’s fucking true and you know it!”
“Take a breath.”
“Don’t tell me to take a breath! You’ll be a top pick when you’re called up.” Oh yeah, I’m legit spiraling. But it’s about more than just the Hockey Academy and what next year will look like. It’s about Fee, too. I love her. I don’t want to lose her, but I don’t want to lose out on hockey opportunities either, and I’m terrified of all the unknowns.
“How about we look at it from a different perspective, Meyers?” Brody says calmly. “Alex Waters noticed how much you’ve improved this year. He saw that the beginning of the season was rocky, and he also sees your dedication and willingness to push through, even when it’s hard.” He sighs. “There is no way I’ll go through a whole season without having a string of bad games somewhere along the way, and when I do, I hope like hell I have the same damn perseverance you do. Stop spiraling. It’s unnecessary.”
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “No more spiraling.”
Gage claps me on the shoulder. “I’m manifesting that we’ll have the best summer together at the Hockey Academy."
“Amen to that.” Brody gets out of the car. “Now let’s go have a beer and enjoy the fact that we’re all on Alex Waters’ radar.”
CHAPTER 35
FEE
Ispin around in Mac’s computer chair, smiling as I catch the wall of posters across the room. Mac has added to it since I shared that I’m the creator. Together we arranged all the pieces in a wall-style scrapbook. We included the doodles I leave on Post-its for him, random sketches I draw when we’re hanging out or watching TV, and a few Polaroid photos he’s taken recently. It’s inspired parts of my piece for the art show. I’m excited to finally merge the me everyone knows with the secret one that isn’t quite a secret anymore.
“Do you have blank paper handy?” I could tear a piece from my sketchbook, but I prefer not to.
“Lined, graph, or unlined?” Mac doesn’t look up from his textbook. He has a test tomorrow.
“Anything is fine,” I reply.
“There should be lots of letter sized in the printer tray.” He points to the device, which is half hidden under a stack of textbooks and miscellaneous folders.
I roll the computer chair to the printer—he insisted I take the workstation while he sits in the beanbag chair with his lap pad.
“You might have to jiggle the tray. It’s sticky sometimes,” he warns.
I knock a file folder to the floor when I have to pull harder than anticipated, and a few sheets of paper flutter out on the floor. I bend to gather them, and my mouth goes dry as I scan the letterhead that reads: ELITE HOCKEY INSTITUTE STOCKHOLM.
“Everything okay?” Mac looks up from his textbook and zones in on the logo. “Shit.”
His lap pad clatters to the floor. “Fee.”
The application is dated early January, before we started fake-dating, turned-real-dating. My chest tightens and my voice breaks. “Are you going to Sweden for the summer?”
He raises his hands. “Sweetheart.”
“Please don’t sweetheart me right now.” My stomach twists as real panic takes hold. “And please explain why I’m only finding out now because I knocked some papers off your desk by accident.” He’s kept this from me the entire time. I fell in love with him and he let me and now he might be going to fucking Sweden. “Have you been accepted?”