The Falcon's Show

The bathroom smelled like cheap soap and steam. The mirror was fogging at the edges, blurring the reflection staring back at Riley Woods. Her fingers tightened around the rusted kitchen scissors in her hand while water dripped slowly from the faucet into the sink below. The sound echoed too loudly in the cramped room. Behind her, Ryan leaned against the bathroom doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. "You're actually going to do it." Riley did not look at him. She kept her eyes fixed on the mirror because she knew if she looked away now, she might lose her nerve. "Shut up, Ryan." "It's literally identity theft," he muttered. "That has to be illegal. You could probably go to prison." "It's hockey," Riley replied flatly. Ryan let out a nervous laugh, but it sounded forced. "Pretty sure prison inmates say stuff like that before they get arrested too." Riley ignored him and grabbed a fistful of her dark hair. It fell past her shoulders in soft waves, and for a second, her chest tightened painfully. She had spent years growing it out. Their mother loved brushing it whenever Riley sat between her knees on the couch after showering. Sarah used to joke that Riley looked like a movie star whenever the wind caught it the right way. Now it only looked inconvenient. Now it looked dangerous. Ryan watched her carefully. "You don't have to do this." Riley finally glanced at him through the mirror. "Easy for you to say when you're the one who quit." Ryan's jaw tightened instantly. "I didn't quit." "You walked away from the Falcons two weeks before the season started." "I had my reasons." Riley laughed bitterly. "And none of those reasons were important enough to tell anybody?" Ryan looked away first. That silence answered enough. The Falcons were not just another hockey team. Everybody knew their name. State champions three years in a row. Scouts attended nearly every game. Players from their program ended up with scholarships, contracts, and careers. Ryan had spent years working toward that opportunity. Then he destroyed it overnight. No explanation. No warning. Nothing. Riley had spent the last two weeks trying not to hate him for it. She failed every single day. "You don't understand what it's like there," Ryan said quietly. Riley rolled her eyes. "Please. You suddenly started acting like hockey was torture." Ryan pushed himself off the doorway. "Because maybe it was." The anger in his voice surprised her. For a second, the room went silent except for the dripping faucet. Ryan rubbed both hands over his face tiredly. Dark shadows sat beneath his eyes like bruises, and Riley noticed again how exhausted he looked lately. He barely slept anymore. He barely ate. Half the time he looked like he was waiting for something terrible to happen. But every time she asked what was wrong, he shut down completely. Riley swallowed hard and lifted the scissors. The first cut sounded violent. The dull blades tore through her hair unevenly, making a harsh ripping noise that filled the bathroom. Thick strands slid into the sink and landed near the drain. Ryan cursed under his breath. Riley stared silently at the dark clump of hair lying there. It looked strangely separated from her body. Dead somehow. Something twisted in her stomach. "Jesus, Riley." She ignored him and grabbed another section. The scissors snagged halfway through, forcing her to yank the strands loose painfully. Riley hissed quietly under her breath before continuing. More hair fell into the sink. Ryan stepped forward quickly. "Wait, stop. At least let me help before you butcher it completely." "No." "It looks terrible." "Good." Riley hacked at the other side again until uneven strands brushed against her jawline. The cut was messy. Crooked. Nothing about it looked feminine anymore. That was the point. Ryan stared at her reflection with growing disbelief. "You're actually serious." Riley met his eyes in the mirror again. "Somebody has to be." Ryan looked like the words hit harder than she intended. Good. No. Not good. Everything between them felt sharp lately. Every conversation turned into an argument before either of them realized it. Ryan folded his arms tightly across his chest. "You really think this is going to work?" "I know how you talk." "No, you don't." "I know how you walk." "You walk like you have somewhere to be. I walk like I hate everyone." Riley snorted quietly despite herself. Ryan continued before she could respond. "And Jax is there." At the mention of the name, Riley rolled her eyes. "You keep talking about him like he's some serial killer." Ryan did not laugh. That made her pause. "He notices everything," Ryan said carefully. "The way people move. The way they talk. He gets inside people's heads for fun." Riley turned toward him fully now. With her hair unevenly cut around her face, the resemblance between them looked unsettling. "So what?" she asked. "I'll avoid him." Ryan barked out a humorless laugh. "You can't avoid Jax Carter. Trust me." Riley crossed her arms. "You're exaggerating." "I'm not." The seriousness in his voice made unease creep slowly into her stomach. She knew about Jax, obviously. Everyone did. Falcons defenseman. Campus nightmare. Hockey prodigy with a temper problem. Half the girls at school were obsessed with him while the other half actively avoided him in hallways. Ryan hated him. Jax hated Ryan even more. Nobody knew why. Every game between them looked one punch away from disaster. "They'll see through you," Ryan said quietly. "Especially him." Riley stared at herself in the mirror again. Without the long hair softening her face, she looked sharper somehow. Colder. More like Ryan. "Let them try," she whispered. Ryan ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Riley, you don't understand what you're walking into. You're going to live with them. Practice with them. Shower with them." The reality of that settled heavily in her chest. Locker rooms. Communal showers. Dorms. No privacy. No space to breathe. Fear flickered through her briefly, but she crushed it immediately. "I can handle it." Ryan shook his head slowly. "You're saying that now." Riley threw the scissors into the sink with a loud clatter. "What exactly do you want me to do, Ryan? Sit here while you destroy your future? Pretend I don't care?" "I never asked you to fix this." "You didn't have to." Ryan looked exhausted suddenly. Older than eighteen. "You love hockey that much?" Riley almost laughed. Love was too small a word for it. Hockey was the only thing that had ever made sense to her. Not school. Not parties. Not trying to fit into the version of femininity everyone expected from her. But on the ice, none of that mattered. Only speed. Only instinct. Only freedom. She was not giving that up. Not because Ryan quit. Not because the Falcons only wanted boys. Not because life decided she couldn't have something. "Yes," she answered softly. "I do." Ryan stared at her for a long moment before sighing quietly. "You still don't sound like me." Riley lowered her voice mockingly. "Sup, bro." Ryan groaned immediately. "Please never say that again." A small smile tugged briefly at Riley's lips before disappearing again. The adrenaline from earlier was fading now, leaving fear behind in its place. Her hands suddenly felt cold. What if this failed immediately? What if someone recognized her? What if Jax noticed? Ryan must have seen something on her face because his expression softened slightly. "You can still stop." Riley looked back at the mirror. The girl she recognized was disappearing. A stranger stared back instead. Not completely Ryan. Not completely herself either. Something in between. Her stomach twisted violently. This was insane. Actually insane. Tomorrow she would pretend to be her brother in front of an entire hockey program. Tomorrow she would lie to coaches, teammates, roommates. Tomorrow she would meet Jax Carter. The thought made nervous heat spread across her chest. Riley swallowed hard before speaking again. "Find me a binder." Ryan blinked. "What?" "The compression kind." His face changed immediately. "No." "I need one." "Riley, those things are dangerous if you wear them too long." "So is getting caught." Ryan rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "You won't even be able to breathe properly." "I'll survive." His jaw tightened. "You're taking this too far." Riley stepped closer until barely any space remained between them. "No," she said quietly. "You didn't take it far enough." The words landed like a slap. Ryan flinched visibly. Guilt stabbed through Riley immediately, but she ignored it. She had to. If she softened now, she would fall apart completely. Ryan looked down at the floor. "Mom is going to notice." "Tell her I'm staying with Sarah." "For months?" "Tell her we're fighting." "She'll call." "I'll text her." Ryan laughed quietly, but there was no humor in it. "You really planned this out." "Somebody had to." Again, Ryan looked wounded. Again, guilt twisted painfully in her chest. But beneath the guilt was anger. Because Ryan still would not tell her why he quit. He still looked terrified every time hockey came up. And Riley was starting to realize it was not fear of failure haunting him. It was fear of something else entirely. Ryan glanced toward the hallway before looking back at her again. "If Jax starts asking questions," he said slowly, "don't answer them." Riley frowned. "Why are you acting like he's obsessed with you?" Ryan laughed under his breath. "Maybe he is." Something cold slid down Riley's spine at the expression on his face. Before she could ask another question, Ryan turned and walked out of the bathroom. The silence afterward felt suffocating. Hair covered the sink and floor around her feet. The mirror reflected someone she barely recognized anymore. Slowly, Riley stepped closer to her reflection. A boy stared back at her. Not Ryan. Not Riley. Something dangerous sitting somewhere in between. She reached up and touched the back of her neck. The short strands felt unfamiliar beneath her fingers, and the exposed skin made her shiver slightly. Tomorrow everything would change. She took a slow breath, but it already felt shallow. She supposed she would have to get used to that.