Page 58 of Bro Code

Asshole.

Riley wasn’t letting him get in his head. He wasn’t letting him get in his head. He wasn’t⁠—

Less than a minute later he lost the puck to Rodriguez. He was letting Okafor get in his head.

Riley was so furious with himself for letting it happen that he went way too hard trying to get the puck back from Rodriguez, and snapped the whole blade of his stick clean off.

They were down by two when he came off the ice at the break.

Sweating and panting, Riley stomped bitterly down the tunnel to the locker room and found a fresh stick propped against his stall. He picked it up and tapped it on the floor – reflex, muscle memory – then tossed it from hand to hand. As he did, he noticed something sticking out of the tape around the handle.

A tiny slip of paper, folded and stuck under the grip tape. He glanced around and pulled it out, unfolded it, and read:

You’re okay. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Track track track. You got this.

xxx L

PS. You look hot.

Riley’s chest thumped. He pulled out his phone and texted Louis. Could’ve just texted me all that

Louis sent back, But then you couldn’t take it out on the ice with you as a good luck charm. And a winky face blowing a kiss.

Scoffing a laugh and telling himself that he wasn’t blushing furiously, Riley folded the note up again and was putting it in his locker, when the phone lit up with: I’m serious. Take it out on the ice with you and put it somewhere you can reach it

Frowning, he sent back, Why?

Because if you do something wrong and then you’re on the bench beating yourself up about it, you’re gonna pinch that spot until it hurts, and that’s going to distract you from spiraling

Riley shook his head and texted back, Fine, even though he didn’t believe for a moment that would work. He tucked the note behind his shinguard.

Second period was a desperate scramble. Montreal was determined not to lose, and Tampa was giving them absolutely no slack. Riley chanted track track track to keep his stride steady, and forced himself to think about Louis throwing tennis balls anytime a defenseman came up suddenly in his peripherals. When he lost the puck right before his shift ended, he was so furious with himself that he went back to the bench in a seething rage. He sat down and stuck his hand under his shinguard and squeezed the spot where Louis’ note was so hard it brought tears to his eyes.

It did help, actually. A little.

They were tied in the middle of third period when it all went catastrophically to shit.

Arsenault was digging the puck out of the corner when Okafor came in from the side and went for it too. They were both up against the boards, battling it out, bodies pinned to the glass, when the whistle went and the ref declared the puck stuck and called it back to a face-off.

But right after the whistle, Okafor shot out a hand and shoved his glove into Arsenault’s face. It was the kind of thing guys did in moments like that – a parting shot the ref usually didn’t catch because the play was moving on. Nic was the kind of guy who would usually just let it go.

Except this time, he didn’t.

Okafor must have said something shitty to Nic as he shoved him, because Nic popped right back up and yelled, “What the fuck did you just say?”

And things happened so quickly after that, Riley remembered only bits and pieces later.

Suddenly Arsenault and Okafor were chest to chest, screaming in each other’s faces, and then Okafor’s gloves were off, and then Arsenault’s were off, and then Liam was coming in from the other end of the rink – coming like a fucking freight train, with a look on his face that scared Riley shitless – and Riley thought, “Oh Jesus, Harris is gonna break someone’s arm again,” and took off after him.

He caught up to Liam as Liam got to where Arsenault and Okafor were shoving each other, and grabbed Liam by the shoulder to try to stop him. Someone else came in from the side – Rodriguez – trying to drag Okafor off Nic, and now linesmen were coming from both directions, and everyone was shouting, and the crowd was deafening, and Riley didn’t realize Okafor had taken off his helmet until he swung it up and cracked Riley on the chin.

Riley felt his teeth clack together and thought, “Hope those are still in my head when I wake up!” and then everything went white and silent.

Louis

Riley went down like a sack of rocks, and Louis’ heart actually stopped.

He was on his feet before Riley even hit the ice, yelling something that may have been Riley’s name, but was probably just a terrified noise. He didn’t remember running out of the press box, but he must have done, because he was slamming open the door that led to the stairwell, and taking the stairs two at a time.