Chapter 226 Chapter 225
Chapter 226 Chapter 225
Logan POV
I hated airports.
Not because I was afraid of flying.
Not because of security lines or delayed flights.
I hated them because airports were built for goodbyes.
And I had never been very good at those.
The hockey bag sitting in the backseat wasn’t packed with anything unusual.
Skates.
Practice gear.
Extra sticks already shipped ahead.
A suit for meetings with scouts.
The state championship medal Mom had quietly slipped into my suitcase before I’d left her house.
She hadn’t said a word.
I’d only found it while packing the night before.
No note.
No explanation.
Just the medal.
A reminder of the little kid who used to think hockey was magic.
Harper glanced at me from the driver’s seat before turning onto the highway.
“You’ve been staring out that window for fifteen minutes.”
“I have not.”
“You absolutely have.”
“I was thinking.”
She smiled.
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because your serious-thinking face makes you look like you’re trying to solve world hunger.”
I laughed.
“It does not.”
“It absolutely does.”
She reached across the center console and squeezed my hand for a second before returning both hands to the steering wheel.
The simple touch grounded me immediately.
Neither of us had turned on the radio.
We didn’t need it.
The quiet wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was… precious.
Every mile that passed meant one less mile before Chicago.
One less mile before scouts.
One less mile before the biggest opportunity of my life.
“You nervous?”
I looked over at her.
“A little.”
She nodded.
“I figured.”
“I’m trying not to be.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me.”
I smiled.
“I know.”
That was the thing about Harper.
She’d never expected me to have all the answers.
She just expected me to be honest.
The road stretched ahead of us, lined with tall trees that cast moving shadows across the windshield.
Finally, I broke the silence.
“You know what Coach told me?”
“What?”
“He said if I spend the whole weekend trying to impress scouts…”
“…I’ll forget to play hockey.”
She smiled without taking her eyes off the road.
“Sounds like Coach.”
“My mom basically said the same thing.”
“And?”
I looked down at our hands resting beside each other on the console.
“And I think they might finally be getting through to me.”
She was quiet for a moment.
Then she laughed softly.
“What?”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think little Logan would’ve loved this.”
“This?”
“Chicago.”
I frowned.
“You think?”
She nodded.
“He wouldn’t have cared about draft rankings.”
“He wouldn’t have cared how many scouts were watching.”
She smiled.
“He would’ve just been excited to play hockey with a bunch of really talented players.”
That image immediately formed in my head.
Eight-year-old me.
Oversized shoulder pads.
Missing front tooth.
Talking nonstop in the car because I couldn’t wait to get on the ice.
I laughed.
“You’re probably right.”
“I usually am.”
“Oh?”
She grinned.
“I’ve had years of observing you.”
“I’ve noticed.”
We both laughed.
The airport signs finally came into view.
Neither of us spoke after that.
Not because there wasn’t anything left to say.
Because suddenly…
The goodbye felt real.
Harper pulled into the drop-off lane and shifted the car into park.
The terminal buzzed around us.
Families hugged.
Business travelers hurried past with rolling suitcases.
Announcements echoed through the building every few minutes.
I looked at the entrance.
Then back at Harper.
“I guess this is it.”
She smiled.
“For a few days.”
“Still.”
She reached into the cup holder.
“I almost forgot.”
“What?”
She pulled out something small wrapped in blue tissue paper.
“I wanted you to have this.”
I frowned.
“Harper…”
“It’s not expensive.”
She laughed.
“So don’t give me that look.”
I carefully unwrapped the paper.
Inside was a simple black leather bracelet.
On the inside…
Tiny engraved letters.
Play Free.
I stared at it.
She looked suddenly nervous.
“I know Coach didn’t actually say those exact words…”
“…but I figured that’s what he meant.”
I couldn’t speak.
So she kept going.
“I don’t want you thinking about your dad.”
“Or the scouts.”
“Or everyone else’s expectations.”
She smiled softly.
“I just want you to remember why you started.”
My throat tightened.
She reached over and fastened the bracelet around my wrist herself.
“There.”
She leaned back.
“Now every time you tape your stick…”
“…you’ll see it.”
I looked down at the words again.
Play Free.
Not…
Win.
Not…
Be perfect.
Just…
Play Free.
I looked back at her.
“You know…”
“What?”
“I’ve gotten a lot of lucky charms over the years.”
She smiled.
“Is this your favorite?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
She looked confused.
“My favorite is the girl who gave it to me.”
Tears instantly filled her eyes.
“Logan…”
I leaned across the console and kissed her.
Slowly.
Gently.
Not because we needed some dramatic movie goodbye.
Because I wanted the last thing I remembered before boarding that plane…
To be her.
When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads rested together.
She smiled through watery eyes.
“I’ll be here when you get home.”
“I know.”
“No matter what happens in Chicago…”
She cupped my face.
“…I’m still going to be ridiculously proud of you.”
I laughed quietly.
“I know.”
“And Logan?”
“Yeah?”
She smiled the same smile I’d watched from the stands for years.
“The scouts are going to meet a great hockey player.”
She gently touched my chest.
“But I already know the man.”
I closed my eyes for one second.
Letting those words settle.
Then I climbed out of the car, grabbed my hockey bag, and slung it over my shoulder.
As I started toward the terminal, Harper rolled down her window.
“Hockey Boy!”
I turned.
She cupped her hands around her mouth.
“Break some ice!”
I laughed so hard several people looked over.
“I’ll try!”
“No.”
She smiled.
“I know you will.”
I stood there for one more second.
Memorizing her.
Then I turned toward the airport.
Toward Chicago.
Toward the biggest weekend of my life.
Only this time…
I wasn’t walking toward it trying to prove I belonged.
I was walking toward it knowing exactly who I already was.