In My Rearview Mirror, JACK.HUGHES

SIXTEEN

Jack's pov 

"Good game, honestly. Two goals in the last period. Very impressive, dude," Vince Dunn pats me on the back as I put on a smile. "Thanks, bud," I reply, appreciating the compliment, and sling my hockey bag over my shoulder.

Fist-bumping my teammates, I exit the locker room leaving my my hockey gear behind. The victory brings a sense of relief, especially considering it was a close game; winning by just one point. I can't help but feel a bit humbled, acknowledging how close Trevor came to winning. Despite having taken a shower at the rink, the anticipation of another one in the hotel room fills me with excitement.

We've decided to celebrate the victory with a night out at a sports bar organized by both teams. I look forward to joining my friends and teammates.

"Yo Z!" I shout at my friend at the end of the hallway. He greets me with a casual finger gesture. "Come on, baby, it wasn't even a real game eh," I grunt. "Fair enough. Are you coming tonight?" he asks.

"Yeah, why not. Are you?" I inquire. He nods, and together we exit the building. Thoughts of Morgan cross my mind, wondering if she'll be there with her little boyfriend. Earlier in the locker room, I overheard him expressing excitement about spending the night with her, referring to her as his "little cutie pie." The guy tends to keep to himself, not the most extroverted type, and prefers solitude.

Two buses are parked, one for team A and the other for team B. I head towards my bus, exchanging a wave with Trevor as he boards his. "Hughes supremacy!" Two of my teammates scream, showcasing team spirit, and I shake my head in a mix of amusement and discouragement.

Climbing the little stairs, I find an empty row, settling in. 

Schneider enters the bus shortly after me. I follow his movements with a sidelong glance, predicting his choice of seating. True to form, he opts for the row next to mine. In an effort to avoid any unnecessary conversation, I turn my attention to the window, the passing scenery outside offering a distraction. However, Schneider beats me to it.

"Close call back there, huh?" he says, breaking the silence. I nod, acknowledging the intensity of the game we just played. 

"So, how is it like to be a legend like you, Jack?" he jokes, and I furrow my eyebrows, unsure if it's meant as a compliment or not. "What do you mean? I guess I've always been like this," I respond quickly, my words a hasty attempt to deflect the attention.

I glance back at my phone, noticing a congratulatory message from my mom. I take a moment to respond to her and acknowledge other messages as the bus travels towards the hotel.

"Just saying, being a legend must be a heavy burden," he teases, clearly trying to make me his new friend.

I shoot him a cold look, "I thrive on winning, Schneider. Something you might want to try sometime," I retort, my tone cutting through the tension. 

The weight of my own words lingers, and a subtle realization dawns on me – my role as assistant captain should have tempered my response. 

Sensing the need to diffuse the situation before it escalates further, I force a half-smile and try to lighten the mood. "It was a joke, Schneider," I lie, attempting to backtrack and shift the tension.