Logan POVThe locker room after practice smells like sweat, tape, and bad decisions.Pretty standard.Guys are scattered around the benches—some still half-dressed, others already in the showers, the constant noise of chirping and locker doors slamming bouncing off the tile.Normally I’d be right in the middle of it.Today I’m just… listening.Cole drops onto the bench next to me, pulling off his shoulder pads.“You’re still flying out there,” he says casually.“Practice was good.”“That’s one way to put it,” he snorts. “You were skating like someone insulted your mother.”I shrug, unlacing my skates.Maybe someone did.Just not my mother.“Seriously though,” he continues, lowering his voice, “whatever mental hurricane you had going on last week? Keep channeling it like that.”I chuckle faintly.“Noted.”Across the locker room Marco tosses a towel at someone.“Yo Shaw!” he shouts. “Five thousand dollars, man! You planning on auctioning off your truck next?”A few guys laugh.Another v
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