Page 98 of Like a Power Play
I nod, shrugging. “Yeah sure, of course mom.”
But the moment I say it, I know I’m going to regret this.
Twenty Two
Peyton
CAPTAIN CLARKE
LNHL Countdown: 15 weeks
Is anyone coming with me to the chess tournament tomorrow?
Also: Prepare for The Hunt.
HAMMIE
Lena Z and I were gonna go
Wait, already????
YERSIE
Fuck yeah
Z
Wtfff I thought you said you picked a good spot last time
BRADY
We did! Kai is a cheater, I swear.
ROSE
Prepare for thewhat?
“It’s gotta be around here somewhere!” Bailey shouts from halfway across the stadium. Her head disappears into the rows of seats like a leprechaun hunting for a pot of gold. Only, the pot of gold is an eight-year-old mouthguard case. It’s an old, dirty time capsule, still containing the overused mouthguard of Lachlan Hunt.
Lachlan Hunt, now the starting left-winger and team captain for the Boston Boas, istheguy. The one who’s, according toESPN Magazine, “The best thing to happen to the Boas since Harrison Clarke.”
It’s disgusting, covered in who-knows-what, but it’s part of this ridiculous ongoing shtick we have with the men’s team since Hunt left for the NHL.
The game is simple: One team hides the case somewhere so well that not even the cleaners can find it, and the other team has to track it down. Last year, they hid it in an electrical panel in the floor, and we didn’t find it until six weeks ago, right as the season started. Caydence, Harlowe, and I hid it by the penalty box after that, and this morning, Kai sent a group message letting us know the case has been re-hidden once again.
“Maybe you should ask the ghost,” Harlowe calls from seven rows back. Then her nose wrinkles. “Wait! I think I smell it!”
We’re all combing through the stands, Mister included, looking for the damn thing. I drop to my knees, peeking under the seats when I hear a voice above me.
“What’s going on?”
I try to sit up, but the back of my skull slams into the bottom of the stadium seat. Clutching my head with a wince, I squint up at Darcy.
She laughs.
“Shit, are you okay?” she asks, still giggling.
I want to scowl. To point out how, once again, she’s reveling in my discomfort, but the sound is so bright, so unexpected, all I can do is grin. I wasn’t sure when the next time I’d hear that laugh would be. Especially after what happened.
