Page 19 of Rookie Moves

I watch him for a minute, noting the tension in his jaw as he chews, his hard gaze fixed on the TV. The instant change in his mood tells me there’s a story there, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what’s so wrong about his future, but now isn’t the time or place.

So I swallow back my words, and we eat our food in a companionable silence.

“What do you think about the Steelheads’ chances in the playoffs this year?” Tyler asks.

I glance back to the TV, where the talk show hosts are talking about the team’s best player, Beau Rousseau.

“I think they’ve got a good chance, but it all depends on whether the rest of the team shows up when it counts. They seem to be solid throughout the season, then whenever it comes to playoffs, it’s like their whole dynamic falls apart.”

He nods in agreement. “I agree. I kinda feel sorry for Rousseau. The guy can’t seem to catch a break.”

“Yeah. He’s carrying the entire franchise on his back.”

My words linger in the air like a weighted admission.

I’m aware of the articles and statements claiming I’m a franchise-altering talent, but the pressure that comes with that is suffocating.

Will I be in the same position as Beau Rousseau? Will I be the one people blame for the team’s struggles or if they fail to secure the Cup? I don’t know if I could handle that level of scrutiny.

Like he knows I need a distraction, Tyler flicks his gaze toward the empty door before lowering his voice slightly.

“I was thinking about everything earlier.”

I cock my head to look at him. “Oh?”

“Maybe I can come over later? You can tell me more about, you know… your plans.”

“Uh, yeah… yeah, that would be good.” I clear my throat. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come over later because I’m like… a rookie.”

He tilts his head, a smile playing on his lips urging me to continue.

“Like, literally.”

His eyes widen a fraction. “In everything?”

I nod again.

“Okay, well, we can work with that,” he says reassuringly. “Well, I’ll come over like, seven? I’ll bring some food.”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds good.”

He flashes me a wide smile, though it does nothing to settle the nerves swirling inside me.

How am I going to get through practice now?

Thankfully, I manage to get through practice without falling over my skates or fumbling the puck whenever Tyler came near me. I head back to my room and change into a T-shirt and shorts, and then I pace around like a caged animal. Stassie has stayed out like she promised, but it hasn’t stopped her from lighting up my phone with encouraging messages.

Stassie

don’t stress, it’ll be fine. he likes you, remember?

he wouldn’t do this if he didn’t want to.

just be open and honest with him. let him know what you want out of it, and remember, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with or ready for.

Sighing, I drop onto my bed and bury my face into my pillow.

Can I really do this?