In The Forgotten Gilmore, Alessia Gilmore grapples with adolescence in Stars Hollow, a town where gossip flows as freely as coffee at Luke's Diner. Overshadowed by her mother Lorelai's bond with twin sister Rory, Alessia finds solace in her irrevere...
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The chilly air of the rink hit Alessia as she walked into the stands, the familiar scent of ice and sweat filling the space. She pulled her coat tighter around her, settling into a seat near the middle where she could get a good view of the game. Beau and Riley were already on the ice, warming up with their usual ease and synchrony. The way they moved together was seamless—like they could read each other's minds. It was a level of chemistry that made them the duo everyone talked about, even when the team wasn't having its best season.
But tonight, Alessia's mind wasn't fully on the game. She tried to focus on the clatter of skates and the echo of pucks hitting sticks, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. Meeting him at Yale had been unexpected, and now his image was stuck in her mind—the confident smile, the way he seemed to carry an air of mystery, and the hint of something more beneath his playful facade.
On the ice, Beau skated over to Riley, their conversation lost in the ambient noise, but Alessia could tell by the way Beau grinned and Riley rolled his eyes that it was the usual banter. They were an unbreakable pair on the ice—Beau, the quick, agile forward, and Riley, the relentless defenseman who always seemed to have his back. Around them, the rest of the team—Leo, Quinn, Avery, and Julie—were locked in, their determination clear. Leo was aggressive, charging forward with every opportunity. Quinn played with a physical edge, dishing out checks and standing his ground. Avery's speed was unmatched, gliding past defenders, while Julie kept a watchful eye in the goal, barking instructions to her teammates.
But tonight's game was rough. The opposing team was playing dirty—cheap shots, hooking, shoving, and slamming Beau into the boards more than once. Alessia winced every time it happened, feeling the anger and frustration building in the pit of her stomach. Beau and Riley fought back with skill and precision, but the refs were blind to the fouls, letting things slide in favor of the other team.
Alessia tried to focus on the game, but her mind kept replaying her late-night encounter with Logan in Yale's cafeteria.
"Oh, you'd be surprised. Yale's much more interesting when the sun goes down," he had said, his voice layered with a teasing undertone that hinted at things unspoken. She had brushed it off at the time, chalking it up to Logan's charm, but now she couldn't shake the feeling that he was inviting her into something deeper, something far more thrilling than she was used to.
On the ice, Beau and Riley were relentless, refusing to let the dirty plays get to them. Beau's movements were graceful yet fierce, darting around defenders with a speed that was mesmerizing to watch. Riley, with his calculated aggression, covered him like a shadow, blocking every attempt the other team made to get the puck away from Beau. There was an undeniable flow between them, a trust that no dirty hit could break.
The game intensified in the third period. The opposing team was ruthless, their hits growing harder and fouls more blatant. A late hit sent Beau sprawling into the boards with a sickening thud, his body contorting awkwardly on impact. Alessia's heart jumped as she watched Riley rush over, shoving the offender, his anger boiling over. The refs blew their whistles, sending Riley to the penalty box for his retaliation, but Riley's temper didn't cool. He shoved the door to the penalty box open, barely containing his fury as he kicked at the boards, his eyes never leaving Beau.
Moments later, Beau was back on his skates, but Alessia could see something was off. He shook his wrist slightly, wincing, but continued to play. It wasn't until another hit—this time a deliberate slash—caused Beau to lose control of his stick and crumple to the ice that it became clear something was seriously wrong. His wrist was bent at an unnatural angle, a grimace of pain contorting his features.
The refs' whistles blared, echoing through the arena as Riley, Leo, Quinn, and Avery skated over, surrounding Beau protectively. Julie left her post in goal, her eyes wide with worry. The coach stormed onto the ice, his expression a mix of anger and concern, shouting at the refs for letting things get out of hand.
Medical staff rushed onto the ice, and Alessia, without thinking, bolted from her seat. She clumsily navigated the slippery ice in her boots, nearly losing her balance more than once, but she didn't care. Her heart pounded as she made her way to Beau, ignoring the shouts from security trying to keep fans off the ice. She dropped to her knees beside him, her breath visible in the cold air, and reached out a trembling hand.
"Beau, are you okay?" she asked, her voice shaky, her eyes darting from his wrist to his face.
Beau tried to muster a smile, but it was strained, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain. "Just a little bent out of shape," he joked weakly, though his voice wavered. "Guess I'm not as indestructible as I thought."
Riley hovered nearby, his face tight with fury and concern, clenching and unclenching his fists as if he didn't know whether to punch something or help. "It's bad, isn't it?" Riley asked, his voice low, directed more at the medical staff than Beau, but Beau just shrugged, trying to downplay the injury even as the pain etched lines into his face.
The medical team carefully supported Beau's wrist, assessing the extent of the injury as Beau gritted his teeth, stifling a groan. The coach leaned in, his voice stern but laced with worry. "We're taking you to medical," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "Let the Harvard nurse have a look. They'll patch you up."
Beau nodded reluctantly, but Alessia could see the frustration in his eyes—the pain of losing the game, but more so, the helplessness of being sidelined.
As the medical team helped Beau off the ice, Alessia stayed close, her heart still racing, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events. Riley caught up to her, his expression still clouded with anger. "He'll be okay," he said, more to himself than to her, his gaze locked on Beau's retreating form.
Alessia nodded, though her thoughts were still scattered between the game, Logan, and the reality of how quickly things could change. The game was over, but the consequences were just beginning to unfold.
