Walking to the office I am hoping Josh isn't in there. I can't face him right now and see the disappointment. I still can't shake the feeling the loss was my fault. That somehow I let my team down. I missed a penalty shot which would have tied the game up in the third and at least given us a chance to win in overtime. But I missed and with that miss went our perfect season, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

When I open the door to grab the cones Josh looks up from his computer. I stare down at my feet and shuffle in further to grab the cones. "It was a good game," he says softly but I can hear the edge to his voice. It was a good game, a good game we should have won.

"Yeah." I adjust my hat and finally look up at him. Three years and I still expect him to react the way my dad does. But instead of disgust and disdain I am met with a soft look, the pride is still evident even if I feel unworthy of it.

"It is a game Ryder, life is so much bigger than one loss."

I nod but it feels so much bigger than one loss. The 1947-48 season was the last time we ever came close to an undefeated season and this season was supposed to change that. We were supposed to go all the way, make college hockey history and be the first undefeated team since the 1970s. We made it so far, 28 wins and now one fat loss.

I have nothing to say, so I leave the office with the cones and set them up on the ice. The line is a mess, my head is just not in it and I know Francesca is gonna get on me for it as soon as she arrives. I am actually looking forward to her getting here, the distraction from replaying the game over and over again will be nice.

I hear the front doors opening as I lace up and I wait for her comment about the cones. Instead the first words she says to me is like a slap in the face. "So much for being undefeated, we all knew that wouldn't last."

I look up at her about to fire off a string of insults and low blows, but when I look up I stop. The pain on her face is double what I feel and as the tears well up in her eyes, I have to look away.

"I am sorry," she whispers.

"Rough weekend?" I don't need an answer to know it was. The pain, the lashing out, the tired look like she hasn't been sleeping, it gave it away instantly. Failure is not something people like us handle well, it eats us up from the inside out.

"The worst weekend of my life." Her voice cracks and the sting of her comment vanishes. I have been a horrible person to be around since our loss and we only lost by a point. I am sure if I knew her weekend was bad I would have been just as dicky to her as she was to me.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Can we just skate? I am tired of talking." That I can relate to on a deeper level so I rise while she finishes lacing up and wait for her near the entrance. She follows and I let her step on first.

As soon as she is on the ice, she skates over to the cones and picks them up. "I am not practicing today, you can have the whole ice I will stay out of the way."

"I didn't plan to either, I just wanted to clear my head." I rarely ever get to just skate anymore but as a kid it was my favorite thing to do. We had a little pond in our backyard and I would wait for it to freeze, lace up and then spend hours a day out there just skating around. It was the only place at home that didn't feel suffocating. It became my escape, I would rather freeze outside than be inside where my parents' bullshit raged on.

She nods and we both silently skate around lost in thought. The usual peace I feel on the ice is gone and instead all I see are flashes of Saturday's game. I still can't figure out how it all went so wrong. Friday we won, easily won. It was our best game so far and we walked in on Saturday riding the same high. Maybe we got too comfortable? Maybe I as a captain let people get too complacent? We went in thinking we had an easy win and it bit us in the ass.

"Your goal was good," a small sad voice next to me says, pulling me from my thoughts.

"I missed the penalty."

"Other people missed too. At least your loss isn't just on you. Your goalie let goals in, other guys missed shots, even your coach I am sure made calls that he regrets. Everyone had a hand in that loss, not just you."

"Doesn't feel like it."

"I know, it never does. But like you said you still have plenty of games left, one bad game won't ruin your season."

I am about to answer her, ask about her weekend but she beats me to it. "I am sorry about what I said when I walked in. It was so uncalled for. I was jealous and upset but that is no excuse."

"Jealous?"

"The whole school seems to be mourning your loss even though you're still the best ranked team in the country. Even my family seemed to be grieving. I guess it is just hard to bust my ass and never get recognition, while everyone treats other sports like hockey and football like they are god."

I look down at Francesca next to me and my heart aches for her. I don't play for recognition but the recognition is nice. To have others appreciate the work you've put in. It isn't just fan recognition but the universities too. We have a beautiful locker room, first pick for ice time, catered meals and tons of trainers while the figure skaters don't even have a place to store their stuff in the arena. I couldn't imagine dedicating so much of my life to hockey and being so completely overlooked. It has to feel like crap.

"Well I recognize it, you bust your ass Beck and it is impressive as hell. If other teams worked as hard as you do every sport at this school would be ranked number 1."

"Thanks Ryder. Again I am really sorry about my comment and your loss. I know it hurts."

"All good, I already forgot what you said."

"No you didn't and you'll probably get me back for it like you did the money I hid in your skate. I will be waiting." She smiles up at me and I laugh because of course even now she can't let the stupid money go. But I am glad to know she found it tucked in her notebook. Before we leave I better search my stuff to make sure she didn't try to once again give it back.

"Let the money go Beck," I yell, pushing her away. She twirls across the ice, laughing as I flip her off.

"Never Ryder," she screams before launching herself into me. She doesn't even budge me with her body check, as she bounces off me and falls on her ass still laughing. "Rude," she pouts, sitting on the ice as I circle back and reach for her hand to help her up.

"Did you think that would work, did you really?"

Begrudgingly she takes my hand and I pull her up so we go back to skating around the ice together. With her mood and mine now substantially better than it was when we first got here I carefully approach the topic of her competition. "So, was it my song choice?"

"Don't get a big head about this but your song choice was the only thing that went right this weekend."

"Yes," I cheer, taking off from our slow skate to do a victory lap, cheering the entire time. When I return to Francesca's side she looks like she wants to bury me and I sheepishly apologize.

"Carry on," I prompt as I catch my breath and rejoin her, slowly skating circles around the ice.

"Anyways my dress got caught on my bag and had a rip I had no time to fix and then I came out of two spins and landed on my ass on my final jump. I was mortified."

"Shit," I grimace, I don't know much about figure skating but just hearing all that makes me want to hide away forever.

"Worse performance I have had in so long. I placed 5th."

"5th isn't so bad, at least it wasn't last." I pause for a second then add, "It wasn't last was it?"

"No, there were about 15 girls in the division. But I was last for myself, I haven't placed that low since I was a kid."

"You're your own toughest critic."

"Oh look who's talking," she scoffs. Yeah yeah I am a hypocrite, I am well aware.

"I am speaking from experience," I defend. "Ok I have an idea, but you need to hear me out okay?"

She looks skeptical but nods at me to continue. "We are allowed to complain until our hour is up and then we can't dwell on this anymore. We move on, we forget about our losses and we focus on whatever is next. I will pick you a new song and Thursday we will step back out here and get back to it."

"So we have 20 minutes left to bitch?"

"20 minutes then we are done. Not just bitching to each other but to everyone. We push forward and don't look back."

"Are you this cheesy when you give your team pep talks?"

"Cheese is a great food so I'm not sure why being cheesy is being used as an insult. Have you ever had a warm grilled cheese on a really snowy day? Fucking best thing in the world."

"Your passion for cheese is slightly alarming but fine. 20 minutes then no more bitching ever."

I stretch out my hand and she takes it, shaking on our deal.

For the next 20 minutes we bitch to each other about our weekends. There are a few tears shed and some smack talk but overall it was really nice to get it all off my chest. Confessing your fears to someone who understands where they come from is way different then when I talk to Josh or Bray or Drew or even Coach. They try to make my feelings seem ridiculous but Francesca doesn't. She makes me feel valid while also pointing out I put more pressure on myself than anyone else puts on me. We both recognize our dedication and drive has pushed us to be a little crazy, that most people don't understand how we function. But I get her, she gets me and that is enough.

My alarm goes off signaling the end of our ice time and the end of our bitching.

"That was... helpful," she says as we both get off the ice.

I don't reply because I am too busy searching for the money I am sure she hid somewhere in my stuff. I can't find it but I can see the nervous glint in her eyes so I know it is somewhere in my stuff, meaning this little money thing is not ending anytime soon. After a few minutes of searching I give up, deciding to look better once I am home.

"Well I will begin looking for your next song, any requests?"

"Surprise me," she says, more confident in my ability than she was the first day we met. She knows now I would never try to sabotage her with a carp music choice.

"Surprise it is!"

We both walk to the office together to return the cones. We have stopped bitching and have changed gears to what is next for us. For me that is this weekend's home games and for her that is her competition in March.

When we enter Josh and Barb are smiling with two hot chocolates sitting on the desk, one with an F and one with an R on the lid. "Well looks like cats and dogs can get along," Barb teases while handing us each our drinks.

"This dog is house trained and we keep a muzzle on him," Francesca jokes with her as I give her a pretend look of hurt.

"The cat still needs those little claw covers but we are working on it," I add while Francesca makes a little claw with her free hand.

Josh and Barb seem pleasantly surprised by our light hearted jokes and the four of us talk for a couple more minutes before the phone rings and we leave so they can get back to work. "Ride," I ask as we exit.

"No thanks I am going to use my walk to call home and talk to my mom for a little bit."

"Alright." I don't love the idea of her walking but it is warmer today than it has been recently, plus she seems really eager to call her mom. "Remember our deal, no bitching."

"I pinky promise," she tells me confidently and I believe her. I think she'd rather bite her own tongue than break our deal. Something about Francesca screams loyal, even to someone she barely knows like me.

"Hey wait before you go," I call out as she begins walking away. "Hockey house is throwing a fuck this shit I want to drink until I forget kind of thing tonight, stop by if you want."

She looks hesitant and tilts her head back and forth like she's weighing the pros and cons. "Can I bring friends?"

"Bring whoever you want, Beck."

"What time? We have practice tonight."

"Us too so I am not sure about the time. Give me your number. I will text you when I know."

We meet half walk and I hand her my phone and she inputs her number. She even puts the contact as Beck instead of Francesca saving me from having to change it once she returns the phone. "So see you tonight?"

"Maybe, I mean you're still a hockey player Ryder. I wouldn't want to taint my figure skater blood by breathing hockey house air," she teases before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking off.