Chapter 13: The Game
1183 Words
After that f*****g night, I woke up the next morning feeling hollow.
I couldn’t reach Lila. Sophie blocked me and said she wasn’t at the dorm. I was so f*****g frustrated, and things only got worse from there.
By nightfall, the game had already begun.
I told myself I could still play normally. But from the second I stepped onto the ice, the cold air burned the inside of my lungs. The familiar scrape of my skates against the surface should’ve grounded me, but it didn’t. Everything felt off. The lights above the rink were too bright, the crowd noise was too loud, and my gear felt heavier than usual.
“Go Eagles!”
The roar only made me feel heavier, like it was trying to drag me down with every step.
I tried. I really f*****g tried.
For the first few shifts, I hit hard. I fought along the boards until my thighs burned every time I pushed off. My stomach kept twisting, but every time the puck touched my stick, I could hear Matty’s voice in my head.
“Capt! Pass it on!” Theo shouted.
I ignored him. I kept stickhandling on my own, trying to push forward, but damn! By the middle of the first period, I was already slipping.
“Jax?! What the f**k are you doing, man?!” Miles growled, clearly frustrated.
I couldn’t even answer him. I just kept skating, trying to stay in the play even though my head was somewhere else. I’d tried my best, but apparently, Matty’s words kept ringing in my head like a f*****g alarm.
“Jax! Catch!”
Theo passed the puck and I picked it up cleanly, gliding forward with it on my stick. But by the time I looked up, I already knew I was too late.
I hesitated for half a second too long and got stripped clean. Westridge took off on a breakaway and buried it top shelf.
3-0.
The crowd started booing. I could hear them yelling my name like it was a curse. My teammates were already losing their s**t on the bench, but I barely heard them. My head was loud enough on its own.
I tried to shake it off on the next shift, but everything felt wrong.
My legs were heavy and my hands were slow. I turned the puck over again in the neutral zone and Westridge capitalized immediately.
Another goal.
4-0.
“Jax, what the f**k is wrong with you?!” Ryan screamed at me as we changed on the fly.
I didn’t answer. Every time I touched the puck, I kept seeing that video of Lila and how Matty threatened to ruin her future. I was trying to fight it. I f*****g tried, but my body was already giving in.
By the middle of the second period, I was playing like complete garbage.
I missed easy hits, whiffed on passes, and took lazy penalties that put us down another goal. The boos were getting louder. Even the guys on my own bench were screaming at me now.
I was in the middle of another bad shift when Matty skated up beside me during a whistle and bumped me hard with his shoulder.
“Having fun, Harlan?” he muttered, smirking behind his visor. “You’re making this way too easy for us.”
I turned to him, breathing hard. “Back the f**k off, Matty!”
He laughed under his breath.
“Or what? You gonna fight me while your team’s getting embarrassed? Come on, man. We both know you’re doing this on purpose.”
I couldn’t stand him anymore. I grabbed him by the front of his jersey and shoved him against the boards.
“You think this is f*****g funny?” I growled, pushing him harder. “You think threatening her makes you any better?”
Matty didn’t fight back. He just smiled wider, like he’d been waiting for this.
“I don’t need to be better, Jax,” he said calmly. “I just need you to lose. And from the looks of it… you’re already doing a pretty good job.”
I dropped my gloves before the ref could even react and pushed him harder. The crowd roared.
The refs finally pulled us apart, but I got five minutes for roughing and a game misconduct. As I skated to the penalty box, I could hear my teammates yelling at me. Coach Martin was screaming from the bench, his face red and veins bulging in his neck.
By the time I stepped back on the ice in the third period, I stopped pretending.
I started throwing the game for real.
I took lazy penalties that gave Westridge power plays. I turned the puck over in our own zone and I missed shots I could’ve buried in my sleep.
Every time the puck came to me, I made the worst possible decision. My own teammates started screaming at me on the ice.
“Are you f*****g serious right now?!” Ryan yelled after I whiffed on a clearing attempt that led to another goal.
We lost 5-2.
The final buzzer sounded and the Westridge side of the arena exploded. Our side went dead quiet, except for the scattered boos coming from our own fans.
I stayed on the ice for a few seconds after the handshake line, staring at the scratched-up surface beneath my skates.
Matty won. And I was a total f*****g joke.
By the time I made it into the locker room, the air was already thick with rage.
Ryan slammed his stall door so hard the metal bent.
“Un-f*****g-believable,” he spat, spinning around to face me. “We had scouts here tonight and you played like a f*****g joke, Jax. What the hell was that?!”
Miles stepped up beside him, still breathing hard from the game. “Some of us were actually trying to win out there,” he said, voice sharp. “While our captain was busy throwing everything away.”
From the back, Leon’s voice cut through the noise. “He wasn’t even trying. We all saw it. He gave up the second the game started.”
I kept my head down, slowly peeling off my gloves. My hands were shaking, but I stayed quiet.
That only made it worse.
Ryan took a step toward me. “You got nothing to say? After the s**t you pulled tonight?”
When I still didn’t answer, he shoved me hard in the chest. My back slammed into the metal stall behind me with a loud clang.
“f*****g answer me, man!”
Before I could react, Leon grabbed Ryan by the front of his jersey and yanked him back. “Back off, Ryan—”
Ryan turned and swung without hesitation. His fist connected with Leon’s jaw, the sound of knuckles hitting bone echoing through the room. Leon stumbled back but didn’t fall. Instead, he lunged forward and tackled Ryan into the row of stalls.
The metal rattled violently as both of them went down, swinging wildly.
The room exploded.
- Writer
