He keeps making humming noises, hemming and hawing at some of the things his team brings to his attention, and every bit of it sends a thrill down my spine. I so badly want this to work.
I need this to work.
I don’t know what I’d do if hockey weren’t where I ended up.
“Right, take five and then we’re going to do one v ones!” He shouts.
Brynn nudges me towards the bench, and I realize that my legs are near jelly-like consistency. We guzzle some water down, barely able to talk, and I try to snap up an energy gel before we’re back on the ice. Coach calls the pairings. The first two skate up and run the drill. She’s successful with her goal.
Then it’s Brynn, and she’s blocking the net from another player, and Brynn’s successful in stopping the goal.
“Harper and Matthews,” he calls, and I stop short. Taylor also looks particularly pissed off at the thought of facing off with me, but I push through it. It’s not the end of the world; we’re going to have to interact at some point if we’re to be a successful team. I just wish it weren’t him forcing us to interact, that’s all.
I skate to the face-off dot, waiting for her to do the same, and I can see the sneer on her face from here.She looks stormy as she settles down for the face-off.
“Good luck,” I say, and she narrows her green eyes, not saying a thing before the puck is dropped and we’re scrabbling for it. It’s such a scrabble that we eventually fall over each other to get the puck.
Her fist jabs my side, and I’m holding on to her to help her get off of me. At least I thought I was, then she punches me again and I realize that this was all just a ploy. I push her off and scramble to get up, trying to be quick and get it as far away from the net as possible, but she starts to chase after me. She’s skating tense, ready to check me away from the puck, but I do a quick stop and turn, narrowly avoiding her.
As soon as I cross the blue line, the whistle is blown, and she crashes into me. I grab hold of her to make sure that she doesn’t fall over. “Get off of me!” she snaps, and I push her back.
“Don’t run into me and then I won’t have to keep you from falling,” I hiss, skating back to the bench. Brynn looks like she’s sucking on a lemon, and Lawson is unreadable, but his face seems a bit redder than it was before.
He doesn’t say anything to me or Taylor, instead just calls the next group up.
My cheeks are burning in embarrassment as I settle along the edge of the ice.
Maybe this was a mistake.
Four
Eloise
I wait until the last few players on the team disappear into the hall, trying to run my brain through the nightmare that was the practice we just finished. I’m still dressed in my gear, because I know I’m going out there.
I didn’t get much time to practice and show off despite it being the first day of training camp. I know that the coaching staff wanted to see all the players there. They’re going to have to cut down the thirty to twenty-six soon enough, and it’s only a week long. But I also got paired with Taylor every chance they could give us, and it was tense, aggressive, and we pushed each other around until we nearly came to blows.
I take a deep breath, holding it for a minute and releasing it, trying to lower the intensity of the anxiety coursing through me. I have six more days to show them what I’m made of. I need to be fast and push hard to do it.
I can’t let Taylor trip me up like she did today.
There’s not a soul in the building as I step backtowards the ice, watching it glisten for a moment more. I enjoy the smell, that crisp scent of potential. It feels like home. This whole place does. Iwantit to be home.
I want to be a Vortex so badly.
I step back onto the ice, pushing off and gliding. It’s not going to be a crazy post-practice workout, but there’s definitely going to be some sweat. I do a few light laps along the boards before taking a sip of my water and fiddling with my watch.
The back of my neck prickles, and I feel someone watching me. Looking up and around, I see a person standing in the tunnel. I jump, trying to suppress the shudder that I feel as they storm in.
My stomach sinks when I realize it’s Taylor.
She looks fucking livid. Green eyes blazing, blonde hair dark from sweat and tied back into a ponytail. She’s still got all of her gear on too, and she’s at least a few inches taller than me in skates, which is intimidating to say the least.
I try not to focus on the freckles that dot her cheeks and nose when she stands in front of me and the bench.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she snaps, and I wince.
“Sorry—you know, I just wanted to get some extra practice in.”
