Chapter 29

Another night, I was again cheering at one of Asher’s hockey games. A sober aura hung among the crowd.

Since the typical second-line right winger was out with injury, they’d brought up someone from the fourth line. That empty fourth line spot was then filled in by an unknown.

Asher hadn’t seemed happy about it. He’d told me on the phone that the team is like a family. It would take time for someone new to fit in among them.

Yet the latest injured player wasn’t the entire reason for the gloomy mood in the arena.

This time, the score had a major part in it. Lunarhaven Academy was down by three goals.

“Did someone steal our playbook?” Nicole asked me between our cheering routines in the stand. None of our cheers seemed to rouse any team spirit today.

I knew what she meant. The opponent seemed to know all of our team’s moves before they made them. Enemy wingers intercepted passes. Defensemen cut into our offensive positions, disrupting any forward momentum made by our team.

When the buzzer blared for first intermission, Asher looked up at me. Even from this distance, I could tell he was shaken, with his stick twisting in his hands.

“You can do it,” I told him. He couldn’t hear me at this distance, but maybe the sentiment would make it across. “Don’t give up.”

Our team returned for the second period like a fire had been lit within them. They pushed harder and faster than they had before.

The other team fought just as fiercely, but it wasn’t enough. Thanks to a couple of well-placed passes from Asher, the gap in the score closed.

By the start of the third period, the teams were tied.

When Asher wasn’t on the ice, he cheered his teammates on from the bench. The team rallied around him. He was like their heart. If he didn’t give up, they wouldn’t either.

The feeling of the crowd had changed too, excitement electric in the air.

I held my hands to my heart as the minutes ticked down. With only a few seconds left to play, the score was still tied.

The puck dropped on the final play. Asher won the faceoff. As a playmaker, he would usually pass off the puck. Now, he did the unexpected and kept it himself.

The seconds ticked down one by one.

Asher drove the puck deep into enemy ice. He flicked his wrist and shot.

The enemy goaltender lifted his gloved hand.

The puck slipped between his glove and shoulder, and straight into the net.

The buzzer blared. The game was over.

Thanks to Asher, we had won.

The other cheerleaders returned to campus, and most of the crowd had cleared away. But I stayed behind, waiting outside of the hockey team’s locker room.

I told myself that I just wanted to congratulate Asher on his victory, but the truth was, I wanted to see him again. I hadn’t since the hospital, and the hug.

He held me until I stopped crying. Then he stepped away and acted like it never happened. I pretended, too.

Some of his teammates said hello as they passed me on their way out.

“Asher’s girl,” they whispered when they thought I couldn’t hear.

I should have corrected them, but I didn’t.

Asher was the last one out. I had thought he’d be satisfied with victory, but his brow was furrowed in anger. His shoulders were so tense, they were bunched up practically to his ears.

He stopped when he saw me.

“Asher?”

“Not here,” he said. “Let me walk you home.”

We walked some of the way in silence, until the number of people around us thinned, and we were alone on the sidewalk.

“Something’s going on with the team,” he said. His voice didn’t sound right. There was a tremor underneath, like a volcano about to erupt.

“First with the injury, and now this. They knew our plays. Coach insisted he had the playbook locked up. No one should know our plays, unless…”

I was pleased he was sharing his worries with me. I felt special, as his confident.

But I worried too. I didn’t want Asher to be in danger. And he just seemed so angry.

“Unless?” I prompted.

“The only people who know the plays are on the team. But I can’t doubt them. If I don’t fully trust them, then everything will fall apart on the ice.”

“Could it be a coincidence?” I asked.

“No. Even if the other team had studied tapes of us, some of those plays were brand new. We’d never tried them in a game before. We should have taken them by surprise.”

As we neared my dorm, he stopped and turned to me.

“Cynthia, please. For my sanity. Stop seeing Joseph.”

“You know I can’t do that, Asher,” I said, confused by the sudden change of topic. Slowly, I pieced it together. “You can’t think Joseph somehow responsible for this?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand down his face. His fingers twitched. His eyes were hazy with agitation, and distant. He was a firework ready to explode. “I need you to be safe. And he’s not… Even if it’s not him…”

I waited for Asher to collect his thoughts.

“The kid who was injured is innocent. He doesn’t have an enemy in the world. But skates don’t fall apart like that. Someone tampered with it.”

He shook his head. “He doesn’t have enemies, but I do. And who hurts worst from morale loss on the team? Me. Keeping morale up is my job.”

A pit in my stomach opened up and worry fully engulfed me. Someone wanted to hurt Asher? Why?

“Just be careful,” he said. “If someone’s messing with me, they might try something with you.”

“Asher, I really don’t think –”

“There you are,” said a voice further up the sidewalk.

Joseph sauntered toward us. “I’ve been waiting for you, Cynthia.”

Asher’s eyes flashed a hint of wild fury. I didn’t know what he would do if Joseph provoked him like this.

“Now isn’t the best time, Joseph,” I told him.

As Asher had protected me before, stepping between me and Joseph, I protected him now, stepping between Joseph and him.

Joseph rolled his eyes. “Send your hockey captain on his way, Cynthia. I want to talk to you, not him. He looks like he needs a cold shower, anyway.”

Asher watched me, eyes burning. He needed to calm down, and I wasn’t sure being alone was going to help him do it.

But if I stayed with him, would I even be able to help him? So many times, we only seemed to bring out the worst in each other.

“I have something really important to talk to you about,” Joseph said. “Please, Cynthia.”

Asher began growling, and I knew I was losing him. Was his wolf taking over?

“Asher,” I said, keeping my voice steady and soft. “Maybe…”

I should tell Asher to go home. I would be fine. I’d hear out Joseph and then go straight to bed. I could even text him after so he would know I was okay.

But I hesitated. I didn’t want him to leave. And I didn’t really want to talk to Joseph either.

I had to do what was best for Asher. What would help him most?

I thought of our hug and his steady heartbeat under my ear.

Looking at me, his hard gaze softened, just a little.

Stay or go.

I had to decide.