Page 113 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

“I thought not,” Coach Murray concluded.

The silence lasted for what felt like hours. I avoided Coach Murray’s gaze.

“Captaining a team is one hell of a responsibility, Son. It doesn’t just mean leading those who want to follow. In fact, that’s the least important part. It’s when you can lead those who oppose you that you’ve mastered it.” He gave me a moment to let the words sink in. “Partridge, you are a risk taker. You’ve got an original style. It’ll confuse your enemies, but your team needs to be on board. Otherwise, you’re playing a game no one understands.”

I looked into his eyes. A sense of loyalty to my team made my chest expand.

“You wanted this, Partridge. Be the captain, now.” It was short, clipped, and not unkind. Coach Murray dismissed me when I nodded heartily, and I made my way to the house in a much better mood. Whether I should have jumped at the opportunity to be rid of Caden crossed my mind several times.

For one, I doubted Coach would have actually done it. That was a big fucking deal. Another reason was that I hated the guy but knew what he could do out on the ice. I knew it even if he wouldn’t do it for me. There was plenty of time to kick his ass off the team if he persisted in this charade. As for turning Caden around to be an ardent follower, I highly doubted he would ever do that. He would probably rather step away on his own. And that was fine by me.

The house was eerily quiet. The first week of the semester always meant a time of responsible behavior. Guys sat around with notebooks, laptops, and books in their laps. Some were in their rooms, others were in the common room downstairs. I headed to the basement after dropping off my duffel in my room. Jordan wasn’t up there, so I assumed I’d find him at the soccer table. But when I entered the basement, Mr. Prim-and-Proper saw me first and stiffened. He said nothing, but his body language screamed.

Caden was by the vintage arcade machines in the corner with Asher, while Jordan paid more attention to the soccer game Sebastian and Tyler were playing.

“What did the coach want?” Jordan asked with zero talent for diplomacy.

I rolled my eyes. “What do you think? He’s unhappy with how things are.”

Caden snorted, looking firmly at the arcade game Asher was playing. Asher glanced away from the game to me. Jordan looked over his shoulder and coolly returned his gaze after it grazed Asher’s curious face. Tyler and Sebastian noticed nothing and cursed at each other while ramming their bodies against the soccer table as if that would give them an advantage.

“Got something amusing to share with the rest of us?” I demanded of Caden.

He turned his head lazily to me as if he had forgotten I existed in the minute I spent here. His eyes narrowed in thought, then he shook his head. “I’m good,” he said. And if that wasn’t annoying enough, the fucker added, “This clusterfuck you caused is amusing enough.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “You think you could do better?” I demanded. Jordan instinctively crossed his thick arms on his broad chest like a bouncer catching a whiff of trouble. “Picture this,” I said, waving my hand through the air like an eager real estate developer showing their client a swamp that would soon be a luxury hotel. “You’re the captain of the Arctic Titans. Finally, all your dreams are coming true after so much sweat and blood. War is extinct. There’s no more hunger in the world. In the first game you play, you discover the cure for cancer…”

“Fuck off, Partridge,” Caden snapped.

“Whoa,” Tyler said, ogling Caden.

“That was a fair shot,” Sebastian retorted. Tyler snorted in return and the two seemingly checked out again. Their perking ears said otherwise.

Asher stopped playing the arcade game and Jordan held himself like a bodyguard. The two made no eye contact.

“Or, imagine this,” I continued a second later. “You’re the captain. You’ve worked and you’re talented. But in walks a troublemaking fucker with a grin on his face and a death wish in his heart. And everything you try to do is spoiled because he’s an ungrateful little asshole who’d rather let the whole team fall apart than accept he wasn’t good enough to lead.”

“How about, ‘He had a total of zero influential family members to beg favors for him?’ That sounds about right.” Caden’s stone-cold expression when he dropped those words so bluntly and openly triggered every horrible reaction in my chest. Every negative emotion I had ever harbored bubbled to the surface and the meltdown was instant. I swiped my hand for Sebastian’s beer can. It contained three drops. I changed strategy mid-swing and threw the can in Caden’s general direction. It startled Caden enough to pull back, but the impact was lighter than the touch of a feather. Still, it was excuse enough and I realized that immediately.

Caden shouted some profanity as he lunged at me, all limbs and murderous expressions. Asher leaped after him, although I wasn’t sure what he’d hoped to achieve.

As Caden strode toward me, I stepped forward to meet him. “I warned you not to talk about my family,” I growled as I closed my fist. I discovered that I wasn’t willing to ruin his entire life without giving him another chance on the ice, but I was willing to break his perfectly straight nose. That way, he would at least have more character than a stack of print paper.

He was as ready for my attack as I was for his. Neither punch landed. I stopped his right fist with my left hand, and he did the same to me. We grappled instead, chests clashing.

“You are a stealing, privileged, son of a…”

“…say my family’s name one more time…”

The curses and threats overlapped as Caden brought his nose right to mine. His hateful glare was enough to make my lips stretch in amusement. I never knew someone could dislike me this much. But the feeling was mutual and I showed him as much when I kicked him in the shin.

Caden didn’t let out a sound. He gritted his teeth and tried to gain some momentum in pushing me back. I stumbled but held fast the next moment, so Caden’s entire body clashed against mine. We pressed tightly, my left cheek bumping against his nose. In an instant of carelessness, I allowed Caden’s hand close enough that he grabbed a fistful of my hair.

“You fight like a coward,” I growled.

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” he spat back.

I managed to press one hand against his face and force him back a little before Jordan got around the soccer table and separated us with the sheer strength he possessed. The separation was nasty. Jordan didn’t care what he bruised, firmly sticking to the old ‘ends justify the means’ mantra. It felt as though some of my hair remained in Caden’s fist. I didn’t feel them being pulled, but he shook his hand as if he’d accidentally caught a viper.