Mitchell gives me a wide grin. “Appreciate it.” He taps me on the back before exiting the locker room.
His dedication compared to last season is a complete one-eighty. But if it helps the team, I’m in no place to question it.
Thankfully, I only had some sips of Laur’s iced coffee for breakfast; my stomach knots deepen during drills. I almost lose my grip on my stick more than once from my clammy hands. I really need to pull it together before someone notices.
Before we start scrimmaging, Coach demands every player go back into the locker room.
“I know you are all chomping at the bit to know who the alternate captains are,” Coach Andres’ deep voice booms. My heartbeat races like a car around the tracks at Daytona. He isn’t supposed to make this announcement until the end of practice.
“The team and coaching staff all seemed to unanimously agree on the same two players.” He continues, his eyes falling on me. “Congratulations, Keith Hall and Blaine Mitchell.”
Cheers and praise fill the locker room. Finding Keith, I give him a firm handshake. Chuckling, Keith pulls me into a hug.
“You deserve it, brother.” I congratulate him, giving him an excited pat on the back.
The celebrations are short lived as Coach yells at everyone to hurry back to the ice. I can’t seem to find Mitchell to commend his success too. Looking around the almost empty locker room, my eyes fall on Tyler, his eyes outrageous slits.
“Look, Tyler,” I start toward him, but he furiously storms out of the locker room, hitting my shoulder with his.
Rubbing my shoulder, disappointment replaces the anxiety in my gut. Every time he makes a stupid decision, he just reassures me I made the right one recommending Blaine over him.
Once I’m back in the arena, I see Blaine already on the ice skating with Ryder. He catches my eye, and a smile beaming with pride takes over his face as he nods in thanks at me.
Our scrimmage starts off smoothly. Coach hasn’t switched up lines much, Ryder and Blaine always running the ice together. Blaine impressively wins almost every faceoff he takes, while Ryder swiftly finds his passes. But no goals are scored in the first portion.
“Donato,” Coach Andres calls, “Switch lines with Hardy, I want to see you play with Ryder and Blaine.”
Taking over the faceoff, I protect the puck and pass it back to Mitchell, who is ready and waiting. He skates up the ice, making a flawless pass to Ryder, who’s wide open but quickly swarmed by the other team’s defense. Panicking, Ryder snaps the puck back to me. My heart races when my eyes find the opportunity to shoot. Winding my stick back, my slap shot hits the puck but it’s deflected by Keith.
Blaine is quick on the deflection, taking control of the puck, skating behind the net and tipping the puck across the line with a beautiful wrist shot.
A blur comes at Blaine out of nowhere, knocking him to the ground.
“Tyler, what the fuck?” Ryder shouts, moving quickly to get Tyler off of Blaine. My skates carry me toward them, ready to intervene but Keith beats me to it, helping Ryder restrain Tyler.
Trickles of blood fall to the ice from Blaine’s now split lip.
“Barret, my office!” Coach barks. Each of his words is louder than the last. “Practice is over.”
In a protective stance, I stand in front of Blaine until Tyler is off the ice, then offer Blaine a hand to help him up.
“I’m good,” he mutters, touching his lip and inspecting the blood that comes away.
“He’s just pissed he’s not alternate captain,” Ryder says, skating up to him.
“Ryder’s right,” I murmur.
“It’s no big deal,” Blaine grumbles. “I’ve punched plenty of people. Probably my karma.”
He chuckles and skates off the ice with Ryderby his side.
Tyler has every right to be pissed, but taking it out on Blaine is a fucking stupid move. Even though he might be one of the strongest players, I can’t help but hope Coach benches him for at least two games.
I feel bad for Blaine. He doesn’t deserve Tyler’s wrath. Last year, no one tried to beat the shit out of anyone when alternates were announced. An unexpected thought comes to me.
“Party at my house tomorrow night to celebrate the new alternate captains,” I shout as soon as I walk through the locker room doors. I might not be a partier, but Keith and Blaine deserve a celebration.
Chapter twenty-eight
