Page 7 of Crossing the Line

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My head hadn’t stopped throbbing since I was admitted last night despite the pain meds they’d given me. My best friend and star left winger on the hockey team stood beside his girlfriend, Willow, who happened to be our star goalie. He looked down at me with sad brown eyes.

The guy was about six feet tall, so he loomed over the bed I was in. Willow sat in the chair beside me and rested her hand over mine. Her long black hair was in her trademark two braids.

The former Olympic-caliber figure skater came to Woodhaven several months ago to rehab a ruptured Achilles with all intentions of returning to figure skating. Instead, she stormed the guys’ hockey team with her goalie awesomeness and was a vital part of how we won State this year.

In just a short time, she had also already become a good friend.

“What’s the verdict?” Wind asked as he sat on the side of my bed.

Tears stung my eyes again, and I had to look away. “The doctor says I’m done with hockey.”

“No!” Willow practically shouted. “It’s just a bump on the head. You’re fine. Right? I mean, you seem fine.”

“Third concussion…” Wind slouched. “Shit.”

He had been my best friend since we were nine years old, when he first moved to town, so yeah, he knew about the other head injuries. I’d moved here right around the same time, so we were the new kids together. Then, once I realized he played hockey, we became pretty unstoppable.

He was fast, skated like the wind, which was why everyone called him that. Well, that and his last name was Windom. We’d been through everything together. Not all of it good, either.

He’d lied to me about dating Willow during this past hockey season, and that had been like a kick to the gut. It was against the rules to date a teammate, but they snuck around, behind the team’s back.

I’d taken a hot minute to get through that, but we had. We’d been through the death of his mother two years ago, his dad’s fall from grace. He and his little brother, Caleb, had been living with us, since his father was in jail, awaiting his trial for stealing retirement funds from people.

We’d always had the ice and our friendship. What would it be like now if I wasn’t on the ice with him? Sure, he and Willow had matching full ride scholarships, him to Boston College and her to University of Boston, they’d be gone in August, but we both knew we’d always have the ice in common.

“Preach.” Wind grabbed my shoulder. “Man. Really?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This time I couldn’t help the tears from coming. I didn’t want to. Wind and Willow. They were my friends.

“We’ll figure it out. You know, get second opinions and stuff,” Wind said. “It’s not over. It can’t be.”

I nodded, wanting to believe him. But the sinking feeling in my gut overwhelmed me. I’d been on the ice since before I could walk. Hockey was everything to me. I wasn’t as good as Brodie, but I’d secured a scholarship to a fairly good hockey program.

God wouldn’t take that away from me, would He? I’d done everything right.Everything.

“Who was that girl you hit?” Willow asked as she leaned onto the bed.

I gritted my teeth. If she hadn’t been in the middle of the road…none of this would have happened.

“Jessa said she overheard the doctors saying she crushed something in her hand or wrist.”

“What?” I sat up. “Crushed?” She’d barely made a peep about it other than a comment in passing about her wrist hurting.

“And that her car was totaled,” Willow said.

I wasn’t going that fast. I mean, my car was fine. Only a couple dings. How could her car be in such bad shape?

“You gonna get a ticket for the accident at all?” Wind asked.

“Well, I’m here to talk about that very thing.” Sheriff Booker strode in, his hand resting on his gun.

Dad came in behind him, a grim look on his face.

My stomach dropped, and Wind cussed beneath a breath.

“First things first,” Sheriff Booker said. “You okay, boy?”

I wasn’t even close to being okay after hearing my hockey career might be in jeopardy. “Fine, sir.” My mouth went dry and my hands sweaty.


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