If the twins saw us, then I’ll hear them out. This time, though, I’m fighting for her and for us.
“I would say ask them, but we’re about to start practice, so that might not be a good idea. Just try and focus on the ice and if they get even weirder, I’d ask after.” Connor pats me on the shoulder before grabbing his helmet, gloves and stick and making his way towards the door.
I chance one more look over to see Brandon looking back at me. He doesn’t look away, and instead smiles softly at me before nodding his head and grabbing the last of his gear.
With his gloves under his armpit, he walks over and stands next to me. “Hey,” he says, a hushed tone to his voice. He’s giving nothing away, talking as usual for him, but still, my nerves remain calm.
“Hey.” I smile back.
“I know my brother and I are acting strange right now.” He quirks his eyebrow, asking me to disagree, and I chuckle at his attempt at humor. “I’m sorry if it’s made you uncomfortable.”
“I’m just a little confused, because when I left your parent’s house last night, you all were fine.”
He shakes his head, the long hairs on top of his head falling into his eyes. “I promise, nothing bad happened after you left. But, would you mind staying after practice today? Brayden and I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Yeah, I can do that. Just please stop being weird. Both of you.”
“That, I can do.” He gestures to the door that Brayden left through. “Bray, on the other hand, that’s a tall order to fill.” A smile lights both of our faces.
“Alright, let's go, funny guy. Don’t want you telling too many jokes and hurting yourself.”
“Shut up!” he laughs, and there’s a pang in my chest at how rare that sound is. While Brandon does crack jokes here and there, he’s usually more shy and reserved about them. He’s not like Brayden or even Beckett, who can joke about anything.
Brandon’s jokes are more subtle, pointed in a way that most people wouldn’t even realize he’s made one until it’stoo late. He’s been like that from the day I met the twins, and it never phased me to think anything different. It’s rare to hear him laugh and be so carefree, so to hear him like this makes me smile.
I finish pulling my jersey on, grabbing the rest of my gear before walking out of the locker room with Brandon, as we make our way to the ice for morning skate and drills.
Coach has us sectioned off into our respective areas: forwards, defense, centers, and our two goalies.
Currently, Beckett and Teddy Reed, our backup goalie, are working on speed and agility drills, focused on maintaining their zones and blocking the puck from entering the net. Our centers, including Maddox and Jones, are working on their face offs, focusing on faster reflexes, balance, and hand eye coordination. Brandon, Connor, and the rest of our forwards are going through shooting drills.
And then there’s the defense. My position. A position I also happen to share with none other than Brayden freaking Taylor, who has only made things ten times weirder in the last two hours of practice. He hasn’t stopped looking at me every chance he gets, a look that shows how nervous he is yet there’s also confusion written on his face. I’m not sure how to read him right now, but after talking with Brandon in the locker room, I know it’s nothing bad.
Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself.
The more Brayden keeps making things weird, the more my nerves start to actually surface, because if it really isabout the kiss with Kailyn, and he’s acting like this, what will he be like when he finds out the rest?
I come to the end of the drill, a set of cones that we have to skate around backwards. It helps us maintain focus and agility, so that we can help protect our net from any opposing team. We’re the first line of defense so that the puck never has a chance of making it past the crease and into the net.
My skates glide across the ice, passing the last cone in the sequence, just as Coach Johnson blows the whistle, signaling the end of practice. “Let’s bring it on in, defense.”
We all skate over to the benches, circling around him as he gives us a last minute pep talk.
“Good job, boys. I like what I’m seeing out there. Blake, good job on your pivots today, it’s much improved this season.” He leans over, fist bumping Blake. “I’m proud of you boys, proud of this defense. No matter what line you play on, or how much ice time you see in a game, each one of you is integral to the core of this team. Without you, your goalies would have no one to help guard the net. Your offense would have no one to challenge them and battle against.” He looks around, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Keep up the hard work, fellas. Now go shower, you all smell like shit.”
Coach Johnson laughs as we all join in. I lean down to wipe the sweat off my forehead, when I get an unintentional whiff of my own smell, the stench almost knocking me out. “Oh, Coach really wasn’t lying to us.”
“Keep that stench away from me.” Blake fake fans me from my left with one hand, plugging his nose with the other.
I shove him in his side, aiming a death glare thatprobably looks nothing like I want it too. “Oh, shut it, Asher. We all smell the same.”
We all make our way down the hall to the locker room, the smell of sweat and hard work filling the air. As hockey players, we’re used to the stench of the halls and locker room after an intense practice or game. It’s nothing new to us, but sometimes it can catch you off guard.
I put my helmet and stick in my stall, shucking my gloves off before undressing until I’m down to just my boxers. Grabbing a towel and my shower kit from my bag, I turn and head to the showers, wanting to wash off the stench before I have to sit with the twins for who knows what’s about to happen.
I grab a shower, closing the door and going through my normal shower routine. After ten minutes or so, I turn off the water, drying off with the towel before wrapping it around my waist and walking back into the locker room.
The locker room is emptier now, some guys choosing to shower at home, some still showering and some in the process of changing. I put my shower kit back in my duffle, and finish getting dressed in a comfortable grey short sleeve dry fit and black joggers. I’ve just finished tying my shoes when I look up and see the twins standing off to the side, a hushed conversation happening between them.
