Chapter 27 Chapter 27
Thursday arrived with a kind of energy Cass could never describe, the kind of air that felt charged with things she wasn’t ready for. She walked into school with Lena at her side, both of them holding warm coffees and barely awake, but the second they stepped through the doors the noise hit them. Students were running everywhere wearing jerseys, painting faces, waving banners, hyping the tournament like it was the Olympics.
Everyone was acting like this day mattered more than any assignment or test.
And Cass couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for her at the end of it.
Lena nudged her. “You look nervous.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re lying.”
Cass sighed. “It’s the game. Jace versus Marvin. I can already smell the chaos.”
Lena took a sip of her coffee. “I’m not worried about Jace. I’m worried about Marvin trying to assassinate the entire rink.”
Cass covered her face with her hand. “Why are you like this.”
“Because someone has to keep the mood light.”
Cass laughed, and that small laugh eased something inside her chest. She needed it.
The hallway grew louder the closer they got to the lockers. Posters were taped everywhere, students shouting, someone beating a drum purely for drama. Cass’s name didn’t appear on any teasing signs today which felt like a miracle. Marvin must have decided to preserve his energy for the rink.
Jace appeared at the end of the hallway, walking in with earphones in, hoodie half zipped, a bag over his shoulder. He didn’t acknowledge the crowd cheering for him. He didn’t bask in the attention. He moved like someone who didn’t care about the noise at all.
But his eyes flicked toward Cass when she passed him.
Just a look. Quick. Careful. But enough to twist her stomach.
Cass kept walking, pretending it didn’t affect her.
Lena, however, whispered loudly, “Your boy is staring again.”
“He is not.”
“He is. He so is.”
Cass shoved her and Lena laughed so hard she nearly spilled her coffee.
Time flew faster than Cass expected. Classes felt shorter. Teachers barely tried to focus anyone. Students wore jerseys in math class and face paint in English. Everyone buzzed with anticipation, even the ones who didn’t care about hockey.
When the final bell rang, the school emptied like someone had opened floodgates. Buses left for the arena. Parents came early. Teachers pulled on matching t-shirts. And Cass found herself dragged by Lena toward the parking lot so they could get seats before the place filled up.
Cass tried not to think of the last game where Jace had outplayed Marvin so cleanly it left the whole school in awe. She tried not to think of the moment Marvin slammed into the barrier near her. She tried not to think of how Jace looked when he warned his brother with those low words she couldn’t quite hear.
She tried not to care at all. And failed miserably.
When they arrived at the arena, the crowd was already insane. Horns blaring, drums pounding, voices echoing off the walls. Cass followed Lena through the mob until they found seats close enough to see the expressions on the players’ faces.
Cass held her breath when the teams entered the rink.
Marvin skated out first for his team, chin high, smirk plastered across his face. He looked charged, ready to fight, ready to claw back whatever pride he lost earlier in the week.
Jace skated out on the opposite team, calm, face unreadable, movements smooth and natural. He didn’t look at the crowd, didn’t react to the shouting. He had that focused expression that made Cass’s chest squeeze for reasons she tried hard to ignore.
The whistle pierced the air and the first round began. The crowd exploded.
Marvin’s team charged aggressively. Jace responded evenly, flawless in his movements, slipping past players with ease. For the first ten minutes, it felt like a repeat of last week. Jace gliding with quiet dominance. Marvin chasing with too much anger burning through every move.
Cass watched, heart pounding so loudly she barely heard the crowd. She hated how tense she felt. She hated how every time Jace and Marvin collided, her stomach dropped.
The second round changed everything.
Marvin started playing rougher, almost desperate. His shoulders slammed too hard, his skates cut dangerous angles, and his teammates struggled to follow his reckless pace. Cass tensed every time he came close to Jace.
The air felt heavy. Wrong. Like something was shifting.
Then it happened.
The puck flew between players faster than the audience could track. Marvin lunged at Jace from the side, both of them fighting for control, muscles straining, skates screeching across the ice.
Jace got the puck first. The crowd screamed.
Marvin lost balance for a second, just enough to drop his stick, but he recovered fast and grabbed Jace from behind, yanking him slightly off course. The referee blew the whistle but the damage was already done.
Jace’s skate hit the ice awkwardly. His shoulder jerked. The puck slipped out of his control.
Marvin grabbed it.
the best skater on the ice, but Marvin had ignited something wild in his team. They fought like their lives depended on it.
When the final whistle blew, Marvin’s team won.