“Holy fuck. This is TD Garden.” “Yup.” Garrett’s answering grin is smug, and not entirely unwarranted. This is an incredible feat. “Look at the lockers,” I urge Tuck. He follows my gaze, eyes widening when he notices the lockers are filled with equipment. Most guys are sharing a locker, but Tucker has his own, and every single one has a custom jersey hanging inside, with our names on the back. That was Summer’s doing. She designed the jerseys and got them done up.
