Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
They definitely know how to work an athlete’s ego and competitive nature to their advantage. Being captain means I’m pushed the hardest.
This is the newbies’ chance to show the team, and everyone at this school, what they’ve got.
We start with a warm-up skate, and I almost feel sorry for the new guys on the team for what they’re about to endure. Hell, even seniors don’t handle it well. Especially those of us who haven’t been on the ice all summer at hockey camps and those who let themselves go over the break. The first practice is always brutal. Our head coach’s motto is: If you’re not throwing up, you’re not pushing hard enough.
All I know is I’m happy to be back on the ice. I could skate every single day and not get sick of this.
The coaches take us through skating drills and puck handling exercises, but that doesn’t stop me from checking the stands every couple of minutes to look for a head of dark hair that doesn’t belong.
I told Zach to come watch, but he hasn’t shown up yet. I wonder if he’ll show at all.
When everyone started firing questions at him in class, I saw him shrink into himself, which sucks because he’d started strong. For a while, I thought he was going to prove me wrong, and I was … proud of him.
But it’s clear he’s in way over his head. I don’t think he knows how to act in a room full of people, let alone how to work in a team. And watching him struggle brought out my protective instincts. I might have questioned his abilities, but when others did it, the urge to save him was as instinctual as chasing a puck on the ice.
That’s why I want to help him.
Well, that, and this totally falls under the jurisdiction of looking out for him like Seth asked.
“Grant! Quit daydreaming and move your ass!” Coach yells.
I get my head back in the game and skate up to face off with one of the rookies.
He’s a new kid I haven’t met yet other than at the official first team meeting last week. I think his name is Greggs. Or Pimms? No, wait, Simms.
Whatever his name is, I grin at him as we take our positions opposite each other.
“Aren’t you the gay guy?”
I smile wider. “Interested, pumpkin?”
Nothing makes a straight guy back down faster than a good old game of gay chicken. Also, I have my target for the night. The sooner I can work this guy so hard he pukes, the sooner we can all go home.
I’ve played on this ice for three years. This is my home. These are my coaches. I know what they’re gonna do before they do it, and it’s all muscle memory at this point.
I have about ten seconds before the puck drops. “If you’re trying to psych me out, kid, there’s one thing you should know.”
Three … Two …
“What?” he asks.
The puck hits the ice, and without even looking, I pass it to where a teammate would be waiting if this were a real game. Simms doesn’t have a chance to blink.
“Never take your eyes off the puck, sweetheart.” I stand to my full height and skate to the back of the line, but not before blowing him a kiss to piss him off.
“Quit playing with the newbies,” Jacobs says.
“He started it,” I mumble.
“Mature, Captain.”
“I’ve never—”
Movement in the stands catches my eye.
My stomach flips.
Zach’s here.
“You’ve never …” Jacobs prompts.
“Huh?”
“You were going to tell me something.”
“Was I?” I’m still watching as Zach walks down the stairs to a free seat in the stands.
Coach blows his whistle so fucking loud we all jump. “Scrimmage!” He divides us into lines, pairing experienced guys with a mix of newbs on each line.
I’m up first, with Beck and a new kid on defense, and Jacobs and Cohen as my wingers. Opposite me is my favorite new recruit.
This is gonna be fun.
“Learned your lesson, hot stuff?” I ask at the face-off.
“Would you quit it?” he grumbles.
“Earn it.”
When the puck drops, the little shit manages to strip the puck and take off with it. He shoulders past me, knocking me on my ass. I don’t know whether to be proud or mad.
I’m back on my feet and flying down the ice in a flash.
The kid is fast, but his footwork is sloppy. I catch up to him without breaking a sweat.
He passes to one of his linemates and skates behind the net. The second the puck is back in his possession, I check him into the boards in a totally legal move, and he goes down.
The puck is mine, and my teammates protect me as I make a break for our blue line.
I pass to Cohen and deke defense, putting myself in front of the net right next to our backup goalie. Cohen passes back to me, and I put it right between Schofield’s legs.