The rink was louder than I'd ever heard it.
Every seat filled. Standing room packed three deep along the glass. The student section a wall of noise – painted faces, painted bodies, homemade signs, the kind of energy that vibrated through the building like a heartbeat. This wasn't a regular game. This was the championship first round and Thornfield hadn't made it this far in six years and the entire campus had shown up to watch.
I was in the fourth row. His jersey on my back. MADDOX across my shoulders. Sienna on my left, Zara on my right, both of them pretending to understand hockey and failing beautifully.
"Which one is Rhys?" Zara asked.
"Number seventeen. The one who looks like he wants to kill everyone on the ice."
"That narrows it down to about half the team."
"The tall one."
"
