Todos los capítulos de The Collision : Capítulo 131 - Capítulo 140

Jace's POVI opened the door with the bottle still in my fist.Mike looked at my bare chest, then at the sleeve hanging off my right arm, then at my hand. He didn't say anything about any of it. He just held out his palm."Give it to me.""It's one pill.""It's three, Jace. I can see the empty spaces in the cap from here."I stared at his hand for a long time. Then I put the bottle in it, because my arm hurt too much to keep fighting the rest of me."Dinner's canceled," he said. "I told them you had food poisoning. Nobody's going to ask for details.""You didn't have to lie for me.""Yeah, I did." He slid the bottle into his jacket pocket and zipped it shut. "Be at the rink at seven tomorrow. Wear something you can get your arm out of."He left without slamming the door. I stood in the bathroom for another ten minutes, listening to the boiler knock in the walls, before I got back into bed.Mike was waiting outside my building at seven the next morning. He held out a coffee and a set o

Ariana's POVThe pharmacy line at the student health center moved one person at a time, and the man at the counter was taking his time.Behind me, a girl with a cough kept sniffing into her sleeve. A cooking show played on the TV in the corner with the sound off, a woman folding dough on a wooden table. The whole room smelled like antiseptic and warm plastic chairs.I almost didn't look up. Then I saw the hand. His left hand was gripping a blue pen like it might roll away, dragging a shaky line across a clipboard. The right sleeve of his jacket hung loose, and I could see the edge of white tape at his wrist.Jace.He hadn't noticed me yet. The pharmacist was saying something about a signature line, and he kept nodding at her, his jaw tight, while the pen skidded off the paper."Sorry," he said. "My hand's being difficult.""You can use the other one," the pharmacist said. "Or I can have someone bring you a chair.""I'm fine."He wasn't. I could see that from three people back.I stepp

Jace's POVThe puck was skidding into the corner, and I was already moving.I didn't think about it. My legs went, my left hand slapped the stick forward, and the blade bit the ice in front of the boards. The puck came off the glass and stopped against my skate. Two Kingsport forwards turned toward me at the same time.I pulled it in with my left hand alone. The shaft felt wrong, like I was holding somebody else's stick."Carter, get it out!" Mike yelled from the point.I flipped the puck to the boards. It bounced off the wall and came straight back at me, and I had to lunge for it. My right arm swung behind me like a sack of wet laundry. Pain shot up into my neck. I bit down on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.Coach's whistle cut through the noise."Timeout!"We skated to the bench in a bunch. The arena was still on its feet, a roar that didn't belong to anyone in particular. Coach didn't sit. He stood in front of the bench with his hands on his hips and looked at each of

Jace's POVThe puck was on my blade before I knew I'd reached for it.I wheeled toward the boards, my left hand doing all the work. Brantford's center was on me before I'd made two strides. I shielded the puck with my body, and the defense came up the wall to take it."Carter, move it!" Mike yelled from the top of the circle.I looked for him. He was open a few feet inside the blue line, his stick held low and flat. Exactly where he'd been in overtime.I swung my left arm through the pass. My hand felt slow, like it was wrapped in wet tape.The puck hit the wrong side of my blade. It skipped off the heel, bounced sideways off the boards, and rolled straight onto Brantford's center stick.He didn't hesitate. He turned, took two long strides, and fired.The goalie got a piece of it. Not enough. The puck slid under his pad and into the net, and the red light came on.The Brantford bench came over the boards in a wave. Their fans went up like a sheet being shaken out.I stopped skating. I

Jace's POVBrantford won the draw clean and fired on the first rush. Our goalie got a glove on it, but the rebound slid to their winger, and the red light came on before I'd finished turning around.0–1.Two minutes later the same winger was in front of the net again. A cross-ice pass, a tap-in, and the goalie didn't have time to move. The bench groaned behind me.0–2.Coach didn't call a timeout. He stood at the boards with his arms crossed and his eyes on the ice."Pick it up," he said to nobody in particular.I picked it up. I skated the left wing, I forechecked, and I took the puck off a defenseman at the blue line. I got two shots off in the first period, and neither one beat the goalie. My right arm stayed tucked against my ribs the whole time. Every time I reached for the puck, the muscle under my shoulder caught, and I had to lean my weight onto my left side to finish the play.Between shifts I looked up once. Row four, behind the home bench, a man in a gray coat sat with a cl