Page 112 of What We Knew Then
“Hi, Coach Knight. My name’s Cora Banks—yes, like Coach Banks, he’s my dad.” I try to build a little credibility so he stays on the phonewith me. “I’m calling about Lane Maxwell. I’m wondering if you have a few minutes to talk.”
Here goes nothing.
Chapter 67
LANE
Theweekdragslikea shift that won’t end.
Nobody says much to me anymore. The guys nod when they have to. Some of them don’t even bother with that. The silence follows me through the locker room, through drills, through the long skate lines where I keep my head down and do exactly what Coach says.
At least he’s letting me practice. I’ll take that.
The rink still smells the same—ice, rubber, sweat baked into the boards—but it doesn’t feel like home right now. Not when tomorrow night, my old team will be on the other side of the ice. Not when there’s supposed to be a scout in the stands and I’ll be in the fucking press box.
Not when I’ll be stuck watching from the stands like I’m not even part of this anymore.
My stomach twists every time I think about it. Fuck, I should be out there. Instead I’m the guy who screwed up and now his team is also paying for it.
The guy who fell in love with the coach’s daughter.
My chest tightens at the thought. Because I miss Cora in a way that’s taken up residence in my ribs. It's always there.
I feel it every time I have a free moment. Every time I reach for my phone without thinking. Every time I remember the way she looked at me like I wasn’t the screw-up everyone else thinks I am.
Like I was… worth something. I almost called her two nights ago. My finger hovered over her name, just waiting for me to do it. One tap and I would’ve heard her voice.
But I couldn’t risk making things worse with Coach. Not now. Not when I’m barely hanging onto my place here as it is. I locked my phone and shoved it across the room.
Apparently, the one person who ever made me feel like I might deserve something good… is the one person I can’t have.
That feels like how it’s supposed to go.
I round the corner toward the locker room, already thinking about tomorrow night and how much it’s going to kill me not being on that ice. My legs are like Jello—I’ve been kicking my ass trying to stay in game shape. It only takes a few days to start losing progress.
Then I hear a voice. Soft. Familiar. It slams me like a check I didn’t see coming.
And there she is.
Cora steps out of the office, black hair sleek and straight past the middle of her back, surprise flashing across her face the second she sees me.
“Lane?”
For a second it’s just us in the hallway. My chest tightens in that stupid, painful way it always does when I see her. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since that horrible morning in my apartment.
But then another voice comes from behind her. One that steals my breath. One I haven’t heard in a long fucking time.
Oliver steps out first. Then Coach Knight.
And finally—Coach Banks.
My stomach drops. What the fuck are they all doing here? My gaze moves between them. Cora. Coach Knight. Coach Banks. Oliver.
A slow, uneasy feeling creeps up my spine. There’s only one reason they’d all be talking. About me.
My eyes land on Cora again, and the memory of that night catches me like a punch to the ribs. The secret I trusted her with.
The one thing I asked her not to say. A part of me wants to believe she wouldn’t do that.
