30 Days Too Late

Run Boy Run

Rudy

I lock my car and crank up the music to maximum volume. The bigger stadium and larger crowd only add to my anxiety. Reporters are everywhere, specifically looking for Dex and me. I readjust my hockey duffle bags and open the back door.

Security guides me to the locker room, making my nerves skyrocket. It goes quiet as I enter, just like all week. I set my things down and start undressing, keeping my eyes forward despite feeling my team staring.

"Is Dexter gonna show?" Michael asks.

"Nope," I reply easily. He hasn't texted me back since Wednesday. I should've responded on Monday, but I was just lost at the time. I'm worried, angry, anxious, and sad.

Jeff corners me against my locker, and I glare up at him. "Say, Rudy, I was wondering how you and Dexter clicked so easily. Now it makes sense, a secret relationship," he says.

"We grew up as best friends, and our relationship is none of your business," I grit out.

They don't know what it's like to have a relationship with Dexter. He's reckless yet observant, smart yet stupid when it comes to making decisions. And for him to leave with his father was unlike him, why didn't he fight?

I turn toward the locker room door, hoping Dex will walk through. I flinch as the door swings open but its Coach Johnson. "Any sign of him?" he asks us.

"Not a single word or sight. Don't think he's coming Coach," Julio sighs.

"Alright that's unfortunate. Rudy you'll sub and we'll rotate everyone else," Coach Johnson decides.

"Sounds like a plan," I whisper.

"By the way, the stadium is packed, and Rudy, you have fans," he says with a shrug.

"Fans?" I ask, confused.

"You'll see," he replies, leaving us behind. This new information makes me feel a bit numb. I put on my jersey and sit down to adjust my skates.

"Okay, guys, since Rudy is our center today, we do what we always do. Look out for him," Michael states. I make eye contact with him—what a way to step up. He seems confident now that Dexter isn't here to challenge him.

I grab my stick and head to the front of the line. I hear my teammates whispering behind me, but a quick glance makes them fall silent. Our walkout music starts, and I push the curtain aside to skate onto the ice. The crowd cheers as I take Ricky's lap around the rink.

"We love you, Rudy!" people shout, making me turn my head. They're holding up banners and signs with hearts, featuring our kissing photo. Some banners even have our names shipped together. I wave to them, and the girls scream louder. I take off my glove to rub my ear—it's too loud.

As pucks scatter on the ice, I hear people asking where Rick is. Suddenly, a soda explodes against the tempered glass, making me jump. "We want your boyfriend!" a group of men shouts.

"Jesus," I whisper. The crowd is getting rowdy and a bit scary.

"Rudy," Coach calls, giving me a thumbs up. "Stay focused."

"Right," I nod, trying to shake off my distraction. Both teams finish warming up with quick exercises before taking their positions. I set up for the face-off when the opposing team's center smirks at me.

"Definitely a bottom," he says.

"What?" I furrow my brows.

"You're nice and petite," he continues, smiling.

"You're fucking stupid," I retort. "I hate annoying ass pussy boys like you." To my surprise, he drops his gloves and grabs me.

I counter by slamming him against the glass, and the crowd cheers us on. I land two punches before he switches positions, his cold hands choking me hard. My teammates pull him off me, and I wipe the blood from my lip, coughing to clear my throat.