Josh’s phone rang for the third time that morning. He knew who it was.

His brother Ethan had been calling him for days. They hadn’t said more than a few passing grunts to each other in two years. Not since Ethan flew off the handle and hit his girlfriend at the time, Michaela.

Michaela was like a sister to Josh. Their families had been close for as long as he could remember. At one point, Josh thought Michaela was going to be his sister-in-law. He was happy about that until he realized it meant she’d be stuck with Ethan. The brothers, on the other hand, hadn’t been close since they were kids, with Josh leaving home at sixteen to play hockey and Ethan being an all-around tool.

Michaela broke up with Ethan moments after his outburst and things spiralled out of control after that. When Josh found out, he’d confronted him. Fists had been involved, leaving Ethan with a busted face. Coach hadn’t been happy about the fresh black eye Josh was sporting when he arrived for the game, but it was worth it.

Since then, Josh avoided Ethan the few times he actually went home. His parents steered clear of the topic, so he didn’t even know what was going on in his brother’s life. Not like he cared.

Josh threw his phone in his gym bag and zipped it up. Ethan could wait another two years as far as he was concerned.

“Dude, you ready to head out?” Josh’s roommate called from the living room.

He’d lived with Grant Mackenzie since he’d made the team. Mack, as his teammates called him, was two years older and the star center-man for the Jackets. Josh, on the other hand, was third line material. Most people considered that his ceiling. Countless articles in The Dispatch told him just that. He couldn’t do any better than ten goals a year and grinder duty. That didn’t stop him though. When he was younger, people said he’d never make the NHL, not with his skill level. They were right. He didn’t make it purely because of natural talent. He was there because he worked harder than anyone else.

“Let’s go,” Josh said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and meeting Mack at the door.

They started the short walk down Front Street to the arena. Living in the Arena District definitely had its perks. For one, they didn’t have to drive to practice. All the greatest restaurants were right around them. And the bars. Mack liked that benefit.

“So, Josher,” Mack started, “You actually going to be any fun this year?”

“If by that you mean partying when we have off days, the answer is still no.”

“Come on, man. Take that stick out of your ass.” Mack mimed plucking a stick from his own butt, catching the eye of more than a few passers-by. “You’re my best bro. I just want you to enjoy the finer parts of being a hockey god.”

“We aren’t hockey gods.” He shoved his friend away with a laugh. “It’s called being a professional. I’m in a contract year.”

“So am I, dude.”

“Yeah, but you’re Grant Mackenzie.” Josh fanned his face in mock swoon. “I don’t have that kind of cache. I just need to keep my head down and do what I’m paid to do.”

“You’re too serious.”

“Maybe.” Josh shrugged. “But it’s worked for me so far.”

They wound their way through the lower level of the arena to the locker room. They’d been back for a few days, doing fitness testing, but this was their first day back on the ice and Josh knew what that meant. They probably wouldn’t even be putting on pads. Skating drills only.

“Yo, Zak!” Mack called when they entered the busy room.

The small Russian came over, a grin spread across his face. Viktor Zakharov was only about 5’10”, which would have been small for a forward. He was a defenseman, a position where size was an even bigger advantage. He held his own though.

“You ready to sweat?” Zak asked in his thick accent. When he first started in the league five years ago, he didn’t speak any English. Now that barrier was no longer there.

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” Mack sighed. He wasn’t big on conditioning. It was the one knock on his game. They said he was incredibly talented, but perpetually out of game-shape.

“So, Mack, you actually going to score some goals for us this year?” Zak punched him in the shoulder and laughed.

“Dude!” Mack shot to his feet. “I was the leading scorer last year!”

“I didn’t get to raise the Stanley cup last year,” Josh joined in, looking at some of his other teammates. “Did you?” They all shook their heads, grinning.

The corner of Mack’s mouth tilted up as he poked Zak in the chest. “Maybe that’s because too many pucks get by you on defence.”

“Nah.” Josh laughed. “It’s all you, man.”

“Screw you guys.”

“Alright, guys,” Olle Isaksson, the team’s captain, yelled, trying to quiet the room. “Coach had a family emergency so our new assistant, Coach Scott, is leading practice today. Coach James will be there too. So lace ‘em up and get out on the ice.”

When they stepped onto the ice surrounded by thousands of empty seats, all the joking from the locker room was gone. This was business, but it was more than that. After a long summer, coming back to the arena, back to the team, felt like coming home.

Coach Scott introduced himself. Josh thought the way he spoke at the gathering after the memorial service for Danny was because he was upset. Now he wasn’t so sure. He had that no-nonsense, kind of harsh way about him.

After a few minutes, he had the team line up at the blue line and begin their skating drills.

“Pick it up!” he yelled.

It wasn’t long before Josh’s shirt was soaked. No matter how hard you train in the off-season, these conditioning days kill you.

Mack wheezed beside him, and Josh had to hide his grin. There was a chink in the All-Star’s game after all.

About the time Coach Peterson would have had them quit, Coach Scott started ramping it up. Looking down the line at his teammates, Josh noticed a few that looked like they were ready to keel over.

Josh had just passed center ice when an intense wave of dizziness came over him. His heart slammed in his chest as he stumbled, unable to regain his balance. And then it was gone.

“You okay, Walker?” Coach Scott asked.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Fine.”

“Okay, then. You guys are done for today.”

After their showers, Josh and Mack sat side by side in their lockers, putting on their shoes. Mack looked sideways at him, but Josh gave him a ‘don’t ask’ glare in return.

It wasn’t the first time it had happened. A little over a year ago, when he was training in New York, he’d started getting light-headed during practice. He’d assumed it was because he was training too hard. He backed off and it didn’t happen again until a game that October. He didn’t think it was a big deal, so he didn’t tell his team doctor. It hadn’t caused any problems.

For a guy like him, playing in a grinder roll on the third line, missing games because of injury or illness could derail his season, which would give some of the guys in the AHL the chance to take his spot. He knew many of them were better than him. Heck, some were projected first-liners. He didn’t want to give them the chance to prove they were NHL ready. He’d worked too hard for that.

“Let’s go grab some lunch before the team meeting this afternoon,” Mack said, standing and stretching his arms.

“Sounds good.”

Josh grabbed his phone from his bag and checked it. No more missed calls. He wondered if Ethan had given up. He stuffed the phone in his pocket, realizing he couldn’t let Ethan get to him, and followed Mack.

Taylor fingered her hair for the millionth time. It was amazing how different a haircut could make you feel. She wanted different. She didn’t want to be herself anymore.

Well, this hair was definitely not Taylor Scott. Her long locks were gone, leaving behind a pixie cut that was short on the sides and longer on top. Her mom was going to hate it, but she wasn’t going to get mad at her. No, apparently it wouldn’t do to yell at the sad little grieving girl. She wanted someone to yell at her. Maybe if they start treating her normally, she would eventually feel normal again.

No. Nothing was ever going to be normal - at least not the normal she wanted.

But she was here, in Columbus, Ohio. That Josh boy had been right. It wasn’t hick-ville like she’d been expecting. To be honest, she was glad to leave Portland, where everyone in her part of town knew her.

Here, the people on the street were just strangers. Strangers who didn’t know her. Strangers who didn’t know Danny.

On the bridge of her nose sat a pair of glasses, a new purchase since she stopped wearing contacts. It was a new her.

She looked up when her dad entered the diner. It was their compromise. He wanted her to meet him for lunch, but she refused to go anywhere near the arena. So they chose this place nearby.

His eyes scanned the room, not seeing her. She stood up and his face showed his surprise when he recognized her.

“Hi, Sweetie.” He reached the table and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “New look?”

“It was time for a change.” She gave him a weak smile, and he didn’t press, opting to change the subject instead.

“So, I’m pretty sure I’ve already made the guys hate me,” he chuckled softly.

“Stop, Dad,” she cut in. “You promised.”

“I know, honey. I just miss your input.”

“I told you I want nothing to do with hockey. Not now. Not ever. I can’t deal with that. I don’t want to hear you talk about it. I won’t go to games. I don’t even want to be in the arena. And for God’s sake, keep the guys on your team completely separate from me.”

“Alright.” He sighed.

They ordered their food and then waited for it in silence.

Taylor used to love hockey. She was proud that her dad was a coach. His team in Portland had been like her second family. Stats, prospects, standings… nothing escaped her mind. Until now.

She blamed hockey for taking Danny from her. He’d been training when he went into cardiac arrest. It turned out he had an undetected heart condition, but she couldn’t help wondering if he hadn’t been pushing himself so hard at hockey, would he still be alive?

“Are you excited to move into the dorms next week?” her dad asked, trying to relieve the tension.

“Not really, no.”

“It’ll be good for you.”

“Maybe,” she muttered lowly.

She had already deferred college for a year. When they found out about the possibility of this job for her dad, her mom put in an application for her to Ohio State. And a dorm request. They thought it was time she had a life of her own.

Maybe it was. She didn’t know anything anymore.

With the topics of hockey and college off limits, she found they didn’t have much else to talk about. Lunch was uncomfortable to say the least.

When the bill came, her dad paid and then said he had to head out to make it back for the team meeting. Taylor knew they were both secretly glad to be going their separate ways.