“Precisely.” She turns her large iPad, so I can see the screen. “You have a photo shoot at 4 p.m. with Memor-eez neck guards. They want you to push their slogan,Never forget protection.”
“I use Shock Jock neck guards.” I lift my face to the ceiling, doing my best to stay patient.
She swipes a few times on the screen. “Shock Jock didn’trenew their contract, and Memor-eez uses memory foam, so they’re more comfortable anyway. Give them a chance.”
“Whatever.” I shake my head. If Shock Jock isn’t loyal to me… “Where do I need to be?”
“They’re setting up in the Memecoin Lounge. It’s past the Bitcoin Lobby, next to the Coinbase Salon.”
Feels like there should be a joke there. “Okay, thanks, Hads. I’ll be there.”
“Appreciate you.”
She shakes her dark head, but I catch the smile on her lips. I give her a little finger-gun before hurrying to join the team.
“Murphy,bring it down center ice and pass it to Hancock.” Stellan Leek shouts the order from where he stands with his arms crossed in front of the bench.
He’s taller than I expected, probably six-five, and his face is set in a scowl as he watches us. An assistant coach I also don’t recognize is with him, making notes on an iPad.
I do as I’m told, taking the puck around to the top of the ice and pushing off hard with my skates as I guide it, side to side, heading straight at Akers covering the goal.
At the last moment, I flick it over to Hancock, who brings it around the side and slips it into the net.
The guys clap, and I nod, grinning as I glide over to my teammate and give him a fist bump.
“Akers, are you asleep out there?” Coach Leek’s tone is sharp, and I glance at my friend who adjusts his helmet.
He gives a thumbs-up, and I dismiss my worries. We’re just learning each other’s style. There’s no reason to jump tothe conclusion that Stellan Leek is a hardass, and so what if he is? Discipline is always a good thing.
“Murphy,” Coach is back on me. “Show me your runups.”
Gav, Owen, and Hancock circle around, worried expressions on their faces, but I give them a reassuring grin, directing them to do our signatureTick-Tack-Tack-GoalorT3G.
It’s a variation on a play Gav and I perfected in Atlanta. We updated it after it became clear the other teams were studying us and blocking our play.
Skating to center ice, I wait until the other guys are ready, then I start down the rink like before, headed to the goal.
At the last second, I flick it over to Owen, who takes it back around before slapping it to Gavin, who comes up from behind the net at top speed. He could score right there, but instead, he sends it to Hancock, confusing the defensemen trying to steal it away, until finally it’s back with me, and I shoot it over Aiden’s shoulder into the net.
We clap again. “That one caught some air,” I note, clasping hands with Gavin.
“Happens,” Gav answers, skating around to where we can see what the coach is going to say.
“Trying to nail our best goalie?” Coach Leek skates out to center ice where we’re standing, glaring at me hard.
“No, Coach, I was moving too fast.”
“Is that all you’ve got?” Leek stops in front of us, staring down at the four of us.
I glance over at Owen, but he shakes his head.
“It’s what we’ve practiced,” I answer.
“That’s your signature play, and everybody knows it,” hesnaps. “You boys want to win the Cup or just say you went to the championship game?”
“We want to win,” we all shout back in unison.
“Then it’s time for change. There’s no room for showboats on this team.” He glances at me, which seems uncalled for. “We’re all champions. Now line up, and see if you can learn these new plays.”
