Page 25 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

The cage helmets make things a bit more difficult, although they usually come flying off soon after the guys engage. There’s no good reason to break your knuckles trying to hit through the cage.

The horn blows, and I let out a loud sigh. The score is 0-0.

“I’m going to see your father,” Perri says. “Want to join me?”

“Nah, I’ll just hang here.”

Although that doesn’t feel safe either. As soon as she’s gone, I get up and speed to the women’s restroom. I wait in line, grateful to be sandwiched by the opposing team’s fans. I tap my foot as the line moves, until I’m up next. As soon as a stall is free, I lock myself in.

I sit on the toilet and check my phone, hunting for a text from the person I’ve been having random conversations with. I don’t trust them, not entirely, but their conversation makes me feel… better.

Still, I find myself picturing a million different faces on the other side of the text thread. Boy, girl, young, old. It could be someone at SJU or FSU, or a complete stranger with a bucket of empathy.

The not knowing is going to kill me, although I’ve been trying to stay patient. People have a way of revealing themselves…

The restroom eventually goes quiet. It’s my sign, maybe, that the game is about to start again. I finish my business and tuck my phone in my pocket, flipping the lock on the door.

Leaning against one of the far sinks is the girl from my writing class.

The one who called me a slut… Andi, I think?

Miranda Summers, another girl from the writing class, stands in the doorway with her arms crossed. Of the two, she looks decidedly uncomfortable.

“Is this an ambush?” I ask.

Andi smiles.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” I say under my breath.

eight

sydney

Andi Sharpe seems, for all intents and purposes, to be a good student. But she has a serious grudge against me, so much so that she showed up to class yesterday and glared daggers at me the whole time. But she didn’t call me any names, which probably would’ve made our professor excuse her from class again.

Miranda is bright. She speaks up when she has something to say, and the two girls don’t sit next to each other. Which is why I’m surprised that she’s here with Andi.

“Oliver asked me to send you a message.” Andi tips her head. “Ambush is what you did to us, snitch. This is a warning.”

I hold up my hands. “I should probably wash before you do whatever you’ve got planned. You know, hygiene.”

She glowers at me but waves me to the sink. It gives me time to try and think of a fucking solution, but… I’ve got nothing.

I glance over at Miranda. “Why are you here?”

“What?”

I make a face. “You’re not the bullying type.”

Andi’s scowl deepens. “Don’t talk to her.”

“Uh-huh.” I eye her. “What are you going to do, pour water over my head? Or beer? That shit’s expensive, but you’re welcome to do it if it makes you feel better.” I shake the water droplets off my hands. “Or, hmm… public humiliation? Or just humiliation in general?”

Andi’s gaze flicks over my shoulder. Someone grabs me from behind, manipulating my arms until my shoulders torque. Pain spikes down to my fingers, and I wince.

I didn’t even have a chance to freaking struggle.

“Public humiliation sounds great,” Andi murmurs.