Page 170 of Like a Power Play
Just say it, I think.
Then I nudge myself forward, hesitating for a split second before the edge of the hill gives way beneath me.
Thirty Five
Darcy
There’s something Peyton said in the cabin at Pineview that I’ll never forget.
I just don’t enjoy the anticipation of the sting.
It was such a throwaway line. Just a few words that slipped out of her in a moment of fear. But now, I can’t stop thinking about it, because lately, that’s exactly how I’ve been feeling too.
Every morning this cold February, I’ve woken up another day closer to the surgery. And to be completely honest, it terrifies me.
Thankfully, I’ve had a lot of distractions. Physical therapy isn’t nearly as bad as I had thought. Thanks to my job, I get free PT through the university. So three times a week I go to the big room across from Kaiser’s office, and do various exercises and stretches with Dr. Ramirez. Sometimes, she sends her assistant Aniyah—a junior in my chemistry class—with me to the indoor pool, and I get to swim.
I won’t lie and say that swimming is comparable to being on the ice, but it’s not terrible, and it does help. The wrist brace (which I’ve been playing off as a sprain) and increase in my medication have been helping too. My morning stiffness isn’t nearly as brutal as it was a month ago, and I’ve had a lot more energy. Which is a relief, because there’s beena lotgoing on.
Finals are coming up in two months, and even though I’m still not entirely sure what I want to do with my degree, I know that finishing it is important. I’ve started attending study sessions with Peyton and Cleo, which have moved to the library now that Zayda and Kai are joining in too.
Speaking of the library, when I’m not in PT, class, or coaching, I’m practically living there. It’s a haven. The mahogany shelves stretch toward the ceiling, lined with thousands of books, and sliding ladders that glide along the walls. Large arched windows look over the courtyard pond, and it always smells like coffee and nutmeg. It’s not all textbooks either. As it turns out, the library has an impressive collection of queer literature. The librarian, Robyn (a forty-year-old non-binary demisexual, who is loud in their belief that “the library is humanity’s prevailing resistance” has become my new favorite source for recommendations.
And of course, there’s the team. Since break ended, we’ve played ten season games. We’ve won eight of them, and lost the other two. The LNHLs kicked off this week, and we were the first team to notch two wins, which put us ahead and into the semifinals. Next weekend, we’ll face the Cougars, while the Giants will go up against the Warhogs in the other bracket. It’s single elimination now. If we lose, that’s it.
But if we win? We move on to the final round.
And if we winthat? We get an automatic bid to the NCAA championship.
It stings a little, knowing that if wedomake it to the championship, I won’t be there to see it. Surgery’s scheduled for the same week that they start. But if any team deserves to be on that ice, it’s this one.
I try to push the thought out of my head as I step through the door of Professor Palit’s class and into the hallway, Bailey trailing beside me. I hear the quick shuffle of her boots and the jingle of keychains bouncing against her bright pink Hello Kitty backpack.
“Is it just me, or is Palit like,four times hotter with his beard grown out,” Bailey whispers, albeit loudly. We get a few judgy glances from nearby students, but Bailey either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. She’s kind of…whimsical. Not just in a quirky, fairy way, but also like she is who she is, and whoever doesn’t like it can, kindly, fuck off. I think I kind of admire that.
“Strangely,” I say, remembering his clean-shaven face before winter break, “I agree.”
She boasts a perfect, Barbie-like grin. “It reminds me ofInfinity WarCaptain America!” She presses the back of her hand to her forehead, pretending to swoon. “He could be my Indiana Jones-slash-Steve Rogers.”
My laugh echoes off the forest green lockers. “I see that for him, actually.”
“Right? Hey, are you busy tonight?”
Caught off guard, my feet slow. I clear a tickle high in my chest, studying her face. “No,” I answer hesitantly. “Why?”
“Well,” she starts, voice soft but picking up speed. “I was going to ask again, but seriously,onlyif you want to. Tobias dropped out of our campaign. He said he needs to focus more on school.” She rolls her eyes and lets out a disgruntled huff. “I meanI get it, but we’re in the middle of adisaster. I’m scared it’s going to end in a TPK. We couldreallyuse another frontliner.”
I stare at her, puzzled, until finally, it clicks.
“Your D&D campaign?” I ask.
She nods, a blush creeping over her alabaster cheeks. “Yeah,” she says, then rushes to explain. “I mean, a lot of people think it’s dumb or whatever, so if it’s not your thing, that’s totally okay.”
I shake my head. “I don’t… really know how to play.”
Bailey nods, disappointment flickering in her eyes. “Yeah. Right. No worries.”
“But,” I add, feathering a hand through my hair. “If you don’t mind a rookie, I’m all in. You said it’sLord of the Ringsthemed, right?”
