Lahat ng Kabanata ng Romance In The Hockey Pitch: Kabanata 111 - Kabanata 120

When the alarm went off at 4:00 PM, we both groaned. Jax looked better, but his eyes were still a little puffy."You ready?" I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed."No," Jax said. He ran a hand through his messy hair. "I feel like everyone is going to be staring at us. Those jokes from this morning ... they’re going to keep going, aren't they?""Maybe," I said. "But we just have to act like they don't bother us. If we get angry or shy, it looks like we have something to hide. Just laugh it off. Pretend you’re still a bit sick if you have to."Jax nodded. He stood up and stretched. "I’ll head to my place now. I checked the peephole. It was clear. I opened the door a few inches and squeezed his hand one last time. "See you at the rink.""See you, Liam," he whispered, and then he was gone.When I walked into the locker room an hour later, the noise was already at a high level. Guys were shouting across the room, throwing tape at each other, and complaining about the late hour.I saw Sw

Every time my skates cut into the surface, I was trying to outrun the memory of that meeting in Room 302. I was playing like a man possessed. During the drills, I was hitting the pads too hard. I was taking shots at the net that were fast enough to break the goalie's glove. The team could feel it. Coach Mike was standing on the bench, his whistle in his mouth, but he wasn't saying much. "Line change!" Mike yelled.I skated toward the bench, my breathing heavy and ragged. As I crossed center ice, I collided with Davis. It Davis was the one who had been making the comments. Davis was the one who complained about favoritism. In my mind, he was the only person who could have sent that letter hence all these trouble."Watch where you’re going, Davis," I snapped, my voice sharp.Davis stopped. He turned around, his face turning red under his helmet. "It’s a big rink, Liam. Maybe you should stop acting like you own it.""Maybe you should stop acting like a coward and say what you want to sa

The walk to the security office felt like walking toward a cliff. I reached the small, brick building at the edge of campus. This was the Security Headquarters. It was a boring looking place, but it held the keys to everything. Inside those walls were the servers that recorded every move made on this campus. If I could just get a name or a face from that hallway, the nightmare would be over.I pushed open the heavy glass door. A small television on the wall was showing a local news channel, but the sound was turned down.At the front desk sat a man I knew well. His name was Dave. Dave had been working security at Northwood for ten years. He was a big guy with a friendly face and a mustache that always had a bit of donut sugar on it. He loved the hockey team. He never missed a home game, and he always wore a Northwood jersey under his uniform."Well, if it isn't the Captain!" Dave said, his face lighting up. He stood up and offered his hand. "Great win on Saturday, Liam. That goal in t

A recording started to play. It was Marcus’s voice from ten seconds ago: "I’m working for the man who owns this school... Your father pays my tuition... I have the photo."Marcus’s eyes widened."That’s a confession of blackmail, Marcus," I said. "In this state, that’s a felony. And since you’re a student, it means immediate expulsion and jail time. I don't think my father is going to keep paying for a lawyer once you’re useless to him. He doesn't like losers.""You wouldn't," Marcus whispered. "You’d have to show the photo to prove what I was blackmailing you with. You’d ruin yourself just to get me?""I’ve spent my whole life being afraid of what people think," I said, stepping right into his face. I could smell the fear on him now. "But I’m more afraid of being a puppet. If I have to go down to take you and my father’s plan with me, I’ll do it. I have nothing left to lose. But you? You lose everything."I grabbed the phone out of his hand. "Now, you're going to tell me exactly what

The next morning, I walked into the building with my head down, my gear bag hanging heavy on my shoulder. I had deleted that recording. It was gone. The only proof that Marcus was a paid spy was sitting in a trash folder in my brain, and I couldn't get it back. All we had now was the USB drive .Usually, Marcus would be the first person I saw whenever I entered the locker room. He’d be sitting by the skate sharpener, the sparks flying, or he’d be throwing clean towels at the guys as they walked in.Today, the sharpening station was empty. The towels were still in the big plastic bags. "Yo, has anyone seen Marcus?" Toby asked. He was sitting at his stall, holding one of his skates. He looked at the dull blade and frowned. "I left my skates here last night for him to sharpen, but they look exactly the same. He’s usually done with these by 7:00 AM."I sat down at my stall and started unzipping my bag. I didn't look up. "Maybe he's sick," I said. My voice sounded flat, even to my own ear