My Brother's Hockey Teammate

Sophie

As the crowd begins to fill the seats in the arena, I’m far more interested in distributing pamphlets for my brother’s hockey team.

If the Boston Hawks win this semifinal, they’ll be only one victory away from the national championship. While everyone in the arena cheers for the Hawks, I’m cheering the loudest. 

As Jake’s proud sister, I’m confident and more than a little excited to see him and his team take the ice.

I probably would’ve known nothing about hockey if Jake hadn’t turned it into the main topic of every family dinner and Thanksgiving gathering. Our conversations are never truly over until hockey becomes the headline event.

“Cheer for the Boston Hawks!” I hand a flyer to a passing student, only to realize he’s from Jake’s rival team. My smile fades instantly.

“Do you come free with supporting the Boston Hawks?” he asks with a smug grin.

I roll my eyes, about to respond when he adds, “If yes, I’d gladly follow you to hell.”

His friends burst into laughter. The sound irritates me, but I keep my expression perfectly calm.

Gritting my teeth, I step closer and deliver a sharp knee to his groin. A bright smile spreads across my face.

“Don’t worry about that, Tyler,” I say sweetly. “I can bring hell to you right here.”

He grunts and drops to his knees. The laughter dies instantly, leaving a stunned silence hanging in the air. With a flip of my hair, I turn and walk away, leaving him to whimper behind me.

As I head toward the grass, my gaze lands on my brother’s infuriatingly strange best friend.

Grayson Miller.

He stands with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, tall, broad-shouldered, and far too composed. His cold, hunter-like eyes settle directly on me, and something uneasy twists inside my chest.

Not in a good way, of course. Every instinct I have tells me to stay away from him. We’ve never really spoken beyond a few polite hellos at family gatherings, and that’s exactly how I’d like to keep it.

There’s an unspoken rule about your brother’s best friend: off-limits. Besides, Grayson is nothing like my type. He’s far too distant, far too intimidating, and completely out of my league.

As I pass him, his low voice stops me. “You should’ve stayed away from perverts like him.”

I pause and turn. “You’re right. I should have.” The hint of mockery in my tone is impossible to miss as I throw him a pointed glare—clear enough for him to understand that, in my opinion, he belongs in the same category.

“Grayson!”

A sugary voice cuts through the tension. I glance over my shoulder to see the meanest girl on campus striding toward him in a tiny skirt and enough confidence to fill the entire arena.

She reaches him, throws herself into his arms, and kisses him without hesitation.

The worst part? Grayson keeps his eyes on me while he kisses her back.

Then he pulls away and gives me the faintest smirk and my lips press into a thin line. Without another word, I turn and walk away.

The sound of the announcer echoes through the arena, pulling everyone’s attention toward the rink.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your Boston Hawks!”

The arena cheers. One by one, the players skate through the tunnel, tapping their sticks against the boards while the crowd chants their names. I cup my hands around my mouth and scream louder than anyone around me the moment Jake skates onto the ice.

“That’s my brother!”

He glances toward the stands, spots me immediately, and points his stick in my direction before shaking his head with an embarrassed smile. I wave both arms anyway, refusing to spare him the humiliation.

Grayson, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jake at center ice, notices the exchange and looks up at me. My smile instantly fades. I roll my eyes and deliberately turn my attention back to Jake, pretending the irritating hockey star doesn’t exist.

The referee skates to center ice while both teams line up for the opening faceoff. The atmosphere changes in an instant. The laughter disappears, replaced by nervous anticipation as thousands of spectators hold their breath.

The puck drops.

Players race across the ice with unbelievable speed, skates carving sharp lines into the freshly resurfaced rink. Sticks clash, bodies collide against the boards, and the crowd reacts to every pass as though the championship already depends on it.

Jake looks completely at home on the ice. Wearing the captain’s “C” across his chest, he controls the game with quiet confidence, barking instructions to his teammates while setting up one attack after another.

Grayson isn’t far behind him.

The two of them move as though they’ve played together their entire lives. Jake seems to know exactly where Grayson will be before he gets there, and Grayson never hesitates when Jake calls for the puck. Watching them is almost effortless. They don’t need to speak. They simply understand each other.

“They’re unbelievable together,” the woman sitting beside me says.

I can’t help smiling.

“They’ve been practicing that connection since high school.”

The first period flies by with neither team able to find the back of the net. By the second, Boston finally scores, sending the entire arena into another frenzy. I jump to my feet with everyone else, clapping until my hands sting.

“Let’s go, Hawks!”

The third period begins with the score tied once again. Every second feels heavier than the last. Coach Carter calls a timeout with less than three minutes remaining, gathering the players around him.

I watch Jake lean toward Grayson, the two of them exchanging a few quick words before nodding at each other.

Whatever they’re planning, they’ve practiced it before.

The whistle blows and they are back into their places. 

Grayson steals the puck near center ice and accelerates down the rink. Two defenders chase him, forcing him toward the boards.

“Pass it!” someone yells behind me.

At the last possible second, Grayson sends a perfect pass across the ice. Jake charges toward the net.

Everything happens in the space of a heartbeat.

A defender lunges to intercept.

Jake reaches for the puck and his shoulder slams into the boards with a sickening crack before his helmet flies from his head.

The arena falls silent.

My heart stops. “Jake…”

He doesn’t move.

Players from both teams slowly back away as the referee’s whistle pierces the silence again and again. Within seconds, the medical staff rushes onto the ice carrying equipment while Coach Carter hurries after them.

I don’t remember leaving my seat.

One moment I’m in the stands… the next I’m racing toward the glass.

“Jake!” My voice disappears beneath the growing commotion.

The paramedics kneel beside him, speaking calmly while checking his neck and shoulder. Jake winces the moment they try to move his arm, a sharp cry escaping his lips that makes my stomach twist.

Mom reaches the tunnel just as security opens the gate. Her face has gone completely pale.

“What happened?” she asks breathlessly.

Coach Carter places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but the concern in his eyes says more than his words ever could.

The paramedics carefully lift Jake onto a stretcher, securing his injured shoulder before wheeling him toward the waiting ambulance.

Grayson follows only a few steps behind, his face drained of color. He doesn’t say a word.

He doesn’t have to… the guilt is written all over him.

As the stretcher is loaded into the ambulance, Mom turns toward me. I can see the fear she’s trying so hard to hide.

“I’m going with Jake.”

“I know,” I whisper, fighting back tears. “I’m coming with you.” 

She cups my face for a brief second before looking over my shoulder.

“Grayson.” He steps forward immediately.

“Can you take Sophie home for me?”

His eyes flick briefly toward mine before returning to Mom.

“Of course.”

My heart sinks the moment Mom says the word home. It's not the one place I never want to return to.

Not today. Not alone. 

Not when Jake is being rushed to the hospital and Mom is leaving with him. That means I’ll be the only one left in that house. The thought alone sends a chill racing down my spine. 

“Keep your phone close. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” She says to me before climbing into the ambulance beside Jake. Just before the doors close, Jake manages to lift his head.

His eyes meet Grayson’s. “It’s not your fault,” he says weakly.

Grayson doesn’t answer.

The ambulance doors shut.

The siren blares to life.

I stand frozen as the flashing lights disappear into the distance, feeling as though the noise of the arena has vanished with them.

Only when the parking lot falls quiet does Grayson finally speak. “Come on, Sophie.”

His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it.

“I’ll take you home.”

I turn to him, desperation spilling out before I can stop it. “Can you take me to the hospital instead?”

I search his face, silently begging him to understand. I don’t care if I have to sit in the waiting room for hours. I don’t care if I never get to see Jake. I just… I can’t go home.

Grayson studies me for a brief moment before shaking his head. “Your mom asked me to take you home. She’ll keep us updated.”

His words shatter the tiny bit of hope I’d been clinging to.

“Please, Grayson…” My voice cracks, and I hate myself for it. I hate that my eyes sting, that tears slip free before I can blink them away. I refuse to let myself fall apart in front of him, but my body has other plans.

He probably thinks I’m terrified because of Jake.

Maybe part of me is.

But there’s another fear clawing at my chest, one I can’t bring myself to confess. With Jake in the hospital and Mom staying by his side, I’ll be the only one left in that house.

And right now, there is nowhere I want to go less.