Page 27 of In His Skates

“For ditching me last night.” He looks at Keanu. “I guess you don’t hate your former neighbor as much as you said you did.”

This must be Keanu’s friend Simon.

“Well… people change. Leigh isn’t as bad as I thought she was.”

“Really? So you forgave her for almost ruining your chances at playing pro hockey?”

Wait, what?

“How did I do that?” I blurt out without thinking.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you have a concussion or something?”

I shake my head. “Never mind.”

“The guys and Coach will be here any minute. It’s time for your visitor to say goodbye.”

My stomach drops through the earth. I can’t do this. I can’t play hockey with these guys. They’ll kill me.

“Okay.” I move toward Keanu, who, instead of waiting for me, skates in the opposite direction. What is he playing at?

It dawns on me then that he wants to talk to me without being overheard. We’re standing in front of the goal now, and even so, he moves closer until there’s barely any space between us. This probably looks cozy—too cozy. My breath catches. But it can’t be because of our proximity, right? There’s no chance Keanu would make my pulse accelerate. It must be nerves.

“I’m freaking out. You can’t leave,” I say.

“Here, drink this.” He shoves a plastic bottle into my gloved hand.

“What is this… wait. Laxative?” I make eye contact. “You want to give me diarrhea?”

“It’s either that or hockey practice. Pick your poison,” he says with a straight face. “Do it quickly. It takes a while for the laxative to work.”

I glance at Simon and Jack, who are shooting pucks at the other goal so hard, it makes me shiver. I remove my gloves one at a time so I can uncap the bottle. Then I turn and drink the entire contents, fighting not to puke.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to drink the whole thing,” he says.

“Now you tell me.”

Keanu takes the empty bottle and shoves it into his pocket. “All right. Listen to what Coach says.”

He starts to leave, but I grab his arm and plead, “Can’t you stay?”

Keanu stares at me for a couple of beats, then whispers, “I wish I could. But Coach isn’t allowing outsiders to watch our practices since it’s the last stretch of the regular season.”

I’m gonna cry any minute now. I’ve never been so terrified in my entire life. My motto is to only get into situations that I’m certain I can handle. I’m not used to failing.

“Hey! Santori! What do you think you’re doing?” a man yells from across the ice.

Keanu turns first and hisses, “Shit. That’s Coach Edwards. He’s a mean beast. I have to leave, or you will pay for it.”

“Sorry, Coach,” Keanu says in a sweet voice. “I didn’t realize it was already so late. It was great seeing the Royals training facility. My fans are going to love the videos.”

The scowl on the man’s face lessens. I guess he doesn’t mind media attention. “Oh, Leigh Matthews. I didn’t recognize you. Uh… my daughter is a huge fan. Do you think it’d be okay to get a selfie with you?”

“Of course. If you want, I can send her a video message too.”

I watch the whole thing with my mouth hanging open. Even though Keanu’s interpretation of me is over the top, it isn’t farfetched. And his coach believes 100 percent that Keanu is me. I wish it was as easy for me to pretend to be him.

My stomach churns, then cramps follow. Oh God. It’s happening already. I rush to the bench, clutching my abdomen. I need to find a toilet ASAP.