Page 170 of Pucking Them
The Bay Rebels players are exhausted.
The ice is gouged with scars. The boards are wounded with the marks where the players, especially D’Angelo, have been smashed into them by repeated collisions.
These last minutes are about survival.
I catch my twin’s eye again.
Survive, I will him to understand.
It’s what we both know.
What we do best.
I ignore the cameras and the press. I’m becoming better at that.
I still vibrate with tension.
I wince at the roar of the crowd. The noise and chanting in the Penguins’ arena are louder than in the Bay Rebels’.
My temples are throbbing.
I squint against the bright lights and flashing replays across the vast, dominating video board.
I scrunch my nose up against the scent of cold ice, rubber, and sweat-soaked gear.
It’s the scent of my lost childhood dreams.
But I have a new dream now.
Should I wish that I was out there by my twin’s side? Skating with him to fight for a chance to raise the Stanley Cup?
Only months ago, I’d have given anything not to have been injured. But now, I have a new career, which I’m good at. I’m no longerthe less talented hockey Prince twin.
I’m D’Angelo’s fucking PA.
I’m Robyn’s boyfriend.
I’m D’Angelo’s apprentice dom.
And I’m the most talented prince twin at those.
My eyes glint. My shoulders straighten.
I insisted that I travel to this game. I couldn’t miss another one.
My family need me to be here.
Cody and Noah are milling around close to coach, dressed in their staff uniforms. Cody keeps casting anxious glances over to me, as if he expects me to dramatically collapse, and he’s hyping himself up to dive over and catch me.
I would crush him.
I allow my best friend the delusion.
Shay once told me, when he was training to prepare me for college, that friends don’t hurt each other’s egos.
He said that it was called tellingwhite lies.
I’d been confused.
