Page 152 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

Why didn’t I think of that?

The oxygen in the room is instantly sucked away. My heart leaps into a sprint, and my throat closes.

I slide from my seat to the floor. My name floats toward me, like someone’s calling it. Calling me. But I can’t quite hear through the rushing noise in my ears. I bury my face in my arms, tucking myself into as small a ball as possible.

I pinch the insides of my biceps as hard as I can, twisting the skin. I release and do it again and again, in rapid succession. I need it to filter out some of the noise, but the panic is nowhere near done with me.

Perri is talking. Not to me. Her words are directed overhead. “I don’t know?—”

“We can call paramedics,” a stranger suggests.

My lungs scream for air. I barely resist the urge to claw at the rope tightening around my throat, instead pinching my arm again. I dig my nails in and finally get the right hit of pain.

Panic attack, my brain supplies. Not all panic attacks are created equal. This one has me up against a wall in my mind, flickering evil sensations at me. The rope. Hands. Blade. Choking.

Helplessness.

“You’re okay,” Perri soothes. She rubs my back. “They want to call the paramedics, but we just need to get you breathing. Can you look at me?”

I turn my head slightly. One eye takes her in.

“Like this, okay? Follow me.” She exaggerates her breathing. A long inhale, an even longer exhale.

I watch her chest rising and falling and feel my lungs respond, subconsciously mimicking her. The rope around my throat loosens inch by inch, and I finally uncurl. I lean back against the seat and wipe my eyes, then the rest of my face.

“Something happened,” she guesses. “With someone on the team?”

I hesitate, then nod.

“Who?”

My lips press together. That’s one thing I can’t admit to her. If she knows everything that happened with Penn and Oliver, Dad would punish them. Maybe even kick them off the team. And everyone would blame me.

I won’t be a snitch again. I can’t.

I don’t think I could survive the school turning against me for a second time.

forty-six

sydney

I am more or less back to normal by the time Dad arrives at the gate. He’s accompanied by some guys on the team, but neither Penn or Oliver are with him.

He kisses Perri, then hugs me and plants a kiss on the top of my head.

“Glad you two are with us,” he says.

Perri gives him a look.

The we need to talk look.

My face heats. “I’m going to use the restroom.”

I move away before either of them can stop me, weaving through the rows of seats. I think I spot some hockey players coming from my right, so I head in the opposite direction.

It takes some time to find a restroom. I lock myself in a stall and plant my foot on the edge of the seat, carefully peeling down my sock and up the legging. The bandage is next, although I’m more gentle with it. I have some extras in my suitcase, but none on me.

The three lines are still very new. The skin around them is bright and angry, and there’s some dried blood smeared across them. They’re not going to truly scab over for another day, maybe.