“Yeah, definitely should have bet on Libby’s boyfriend,” Sydney stutters, stunned at what just happened.
“B MAN! You buried that beauty. Fucking nice!” Ryder claps Blaine on the back in congratulations.
“Don’t call me that,” Blaine snaps, disgust in his voice. He clenches his fist, ready to take off Ryder’s head.What the fuck. I guess Blaine is back to his normal douchebag antics. As quickly as possible, I start to move to intervene and protect Ryder from being decked in his pretty face. But something stops me in my tracks. Blaine’s shoulders subtly rising and falling slowly like he is trying to calm himself down.
Slowly shaking his head as if to clear it, Blaine sighs loudly and mutters, “Sorry, King.” Blaine takes a sharp inhale again before continuing “Just.Don’tcall me that.Capiche?”
My eyes widen in disbelief. Blaine kept his cool somehow. Maybe he really is turning over a new, unexpected leaf.
Seemingly unfazed by Blaine’s reaction, Ryder gives a slight nod. “Yeah, Mitch,capiche.”
Blaine, apparently now going by Mitch, pats Ryder on the back. “Thanks. You’re up, Prodigy. Show us what you’re made of.”
Chuckling, Ryder says, “Mitch, I won’t lie to you. I’m a little rusty on the street so don’t get your hopes up too high.”
He weeds through the old hockey sticks. All the sticks are ancient and shitty, but he tests his grip on each one before settling on one and standing in front of the net.
After tapping the bottom of each shoe with the blade of the stick, Ryder turns to his left and spits on the ground then narrows his eyes at the goal. Air fills my lungs as I hold my breath waiting for him to take his first shot. He turns to spit to his right before sending the ball forward and burying it in the back of the net. His next three shots follow suit, beautifully popping each one in. Unfortunately, the rest don’t make it in.
“You’re a damn skilled tendy, Keith,” Ryder approaches the goalie to shake his hand unfazed his shots were deflected when most of the boys would be fuming. “A real ice guardian.”
“Some prodigy,” Tyler mutters only loud enough for me and Blaine to hear.
“Shake off your attitude, Barret. This is just for fun.” Blaine exhales in irritation.
“What was that, Mitchell? Trying to start shit with me?” Tyler demands, his jaw tightening as his body stiffens, fist clenching at his sides, readying himself for what comes next.
“It’s good, Barret,” Blaine steadily responds, taking a step back.
“Fuck you, Mitchell. Stop with your nice guy act. You aren’t fooling anyone, especially Libby,” Tyler spits out the last words, seething. “Just come at me already.”
Blaine’s distressed eyes meet mine as Tyler lunges forward, putting his entire weight behind his punch. Chaos ensues. It takes three guys to hold Tyler back. Sydney’s high-pitch screams echo around us, along with some extremely loud profanities from the others.
A few drops of blood stain the pavement, but it isn’t from Blaine.
“Got my lip real good, Barret.” Ryder barks out a laugh. His hand goes to his mouth. “Nice swing.”
Thunderous rage fills me as I realize Tyler, one of the contenders for alternate captain, just punched our newest star player in the face.
Fucking great.
“Fuck. I didn’t mean—”
Ryder cuts Tyler off.
“Nah, man, I stepped in. My fault.” Ryder pulls his hand away from his mouth. His lip gleams with the sheen of crimson blood. From the looks of it, it’s going to swell badly.
“I didn’t—” Tyler starts again, his shoulders sagging.
“Barret, next time, I’ll be swinging right back, even if it’s not meant for me,” Ryder jokes. “The season hasn’t started, so I can’t play this off as a sexy injury just yet.”
Tyler’s sorrowful eyes avoid my furious stare. “Fucking get him some ice before I decide you need some yourself, Barret.” Tyler scurries inside the second I bark out the order.
What is happening? Tyler might get into a mess or two with a girl, but he’s not someone who would punch someone on our team over something as trivial as being called out about his bad attitude.
And now, all the negative shit is impacting me too. Even if Tyler deserves to be reprimanded, threatening to punch one of my guys is very out of character for me, especially if it’s not someone who typically stirs up issues.
Everyone is acting like a bunch of assholes. This summer better not turn into one of those fucking soap operas my mother loves.
