Puck Face

Chapter 1

HAILEY

"No. Just no. No fucking way."

Coach could have just announced that the world was ending in T-minus one minute, and it still would’ve been better news than the bullshit she’d just said.

"Watch your mouth, Hailey." Coach Hawkins glared down at me, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Do you think this arrangement is easy for any of us?"

Ha, then you should’ve just turned it down, damn it . But I couldn’t say that out loud. I’d already used up my mouth-off quota with my outraged outburst.

And what had she just called it? An arrangement ?

This was a fucking shitshow waiting to explode, and everybody knew it.

I mean, sharing our rink with the men’s hockey team for a month?

What idiot thought that was a good idea?

There was a reason, after all, why we both had our own separate rinks in the first damn place!

"Look, I know it's not ideal, but it really can't be helped," Coach sighed, one hand on her hip. She reached up to scratch behind her left ear; the gesture an unfailing sign of escalating tension that I’d noticed since joining the Blizzard Belles two years ago.

Coach Hawkins wasn't a tall woman, maybe five-foot-six on a good day, but she commanded respect with the kind of steel-spined authority that came from decades of dealing with stubborn athletes.

And right now, she had a bunch of really stubborn athletes on her hands.

Around me, my teammates shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances that ranged from disbelief to outright rage.

Sarah Dane, our left wing and sniper, had her fists clenched so tight her knuckles were turning white.

Beside her, Gina Whitehall, our vice-captain, looked like she was about to explode.

I mean…we definitely heard what she was saying, sure, but that didn’t mean we fucking liked it. In fact, I wanted to roll my eyes so bad. "Not ideal" ? That was an understatement, if anything. Damn.

"But the Rink Runners had an unfortunate incident last week, and they need to share our ice for at least one month. We should help our teammates out."

“Teammates?” Gina spat the word out like it was poison. “After what they pulled last year?”

I clenched my jaw, biting back every curse I could think of.

Our “teammates” had already proven just how little respect they had for us last year, and I knew for a fact that it hadn’t just been me who’d been pissed about it.

The whole team had been livid, and Coach had chewed out their coach in her signature, no-nonsense way for what they'd done.

“Are you serious right now, Coach?” Rina Kent, our offensive defensewoman, stepped forward, throwing her gloves down in disgust. "You really expect us to roll out the welcome mat?"

"This isn't about welcoming them," Coach said firmly. "This is about sharing a space professionally because there are no other options."

"There are always options," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. The stance was defensive, I knew that, but I couldn't help it. The mere thought of sharing our sacred ice with those jackasses made my blood simmer.

"Like what, Hailey?" Coach challenged, her eyes narrowing. "Should they practice in the parking lot? In case you've forgotten, the university only has two hockey rinks, and theirs is currently unusable."

"That's their problem," Zoe, our goalie, piped up from the back. "Why should we suffer because they can't take care of their own rink?"

It was irritating, hearing her ask us to help them out like this. It felt like a slap in the face. Teammates? Yeah, right. I crossed my arms, steeling myself. “If they think we’re just gonna roll over and let them stomp all over our practices, they’re dead wrong.”

"Nobody’s asking you to roll over, Hailey," Coach said, sounding almost tired, like she was trying to rein in her own frustration. “This is out of my control, and out of theirs. It’s just one month. I expect you to handle it with maturity.”

Oh, hell no. Was she rage-baiting me right now? Talking about maturity like I was the one known for playing stupid, dangerous freaking pranks and being an all round goddamn menace? ‘Just one month’? We could end up going extinct by freaking day two of this little arrangement. Who was she fooling?

I felt my nails dig into my palms, sharp enough to leave little crescents in my skin.

“Maturity?” The word burned in my throat. “They don’t do maturity. Don't you remember what they did last year?” I pointed out, my brow arching upward.

Of course, she remembered. I knew she did, but Coach simply tightened her jaw and didn’t say anything. She just shook her head, like it wasn't a big deal anyway.

“This is non-negotiable. You’ve made your point. We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

Ha. There was no saving this situation. There was no best of it here. Simply put, this was a disaster.

"We can't even fit on the ice at the same time," Dani Ferguson cut in, her voice tight with frustration. "Have you thought about that, Coach? It's a safety hazard."

Sarah nodded vigorously. "Yeah, and they're twice our size. What happens when one of those Neanderthals checks one of us into the boards?"

"Or what if one of us slams into them?" Rina added, but there was a wicked gleam in her eye that suggested she wouldn't mind that outcome at all.

A few of the girls snickered, and I caught myself almost smiling. Almost.

"The schedule will be arranged so that there's minimal overlap," Coach explained, her patience clearly wearing thin. "We can always work things out with them."

"And what about locker rooms?" Sarah demanded, crossing her arms. "Are we supposed to share those too?"

"They'll use the visitor's locker room," Coach replied. "We're not animals, ladies."

"They are," Zoe muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Enough!" Coach's voice cracked like a whip. "I understand your frustrations, but this decision has been made by the athletic department. The Rink Runners need a space to practice, and we're going to accommodate them. End of discussion."

Fuck . This was it, huh? We didn’t even get a say in any of this.

“Ugh,” Gina hissed, “This is so annoying.”

Coach sighed again, massaging the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, before turning away to head towards her office.

"I don't think you guys will have the time to be pissed off when you're practicing." She said, and I opened my mouth to say something. But she didn't wait for me to interrupt. She just continued with, "You handle the morning drills, Hailey." And she sounded so defeated that I felt a pang of guilt.

I mean, Coach must be feeling even worse than any of us about this entire thing.

This is out of my control. She'd said those words, too, which meant that she'd definitely tried to fight it but hadn't succeeded.

Those Rink Runner bastards must have pulled some freaking strings to get Coach to back down.

And all I'd done was just take out my anger on her like she was the problem.

"Hey, Coach—" I started to call after her, pushing forward, one arm outstretched to catch her arm.

"I get it, Baleman." She cut me off and I flinched.

Baleman. She only called me that whenever she was pissed at me. Shit. "But there's really nothing I can do about any of this."

"Yeah, I just wanted to—"

"Get the girls together and start your morning drills. That is an order."

I just wanted to say I'm sorry .

Damnit . "Yes ma'am." I didn't even argue at this point. Once Coach Hawkins gave an order, it behooved me to obey it at once. An angry Coach Hawkins was seriously scary.

"What a shitty ass day." She sighed as she continued to walk away, and I clenched my jaw.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I shouldn't have argued with her like that. Coach wasn't the enemy here. That much was obvious, but I'd been too pissed about it to think straight and now, I'd gone and pissed her off, as well.

“They’re gonna stink up the locker rooms,” Zoe groaned as soon as she was out of earshot, hunkering down into a crouch.

We did have two locker rooms here, and if they come in, we’ll have to give up one. I mean, it wasn’t like we used both of them all the time, but I just totally detested the idea of sharing anything with them.

I’d already had a two-year test drive of what it was like to share facilities with those bastards, and it was ass.

“They already stink up the whole damn campus,” Rina shot back, flipping her hair.

Heh. That was true.

“And they’re gonna be hogging the best practice slots.”

Oh, they’ll try . But I wasn’t going to let that shit fly this time around.

“And probably using all the good pucks.”

“And messing around instead of taking this seriously.”

“They probably think this is funny,” Dani sneered. “I bet that bastard captain of theirs is already cooking up new ways to screw us over.”

At the mention of him once again, a collective groan went through the team.

“Fucking Summers,” Sasha muttered, rubbing her temples.

“If he even tries anything—” Zoe started, but I cut her off.

“Oh, don’t worry,” I said, voice like steel. “I already told Coach—if they think they’re just gonna waltz in here and do whatever the hell they want, they’ve got another thing coming.”

This was our rink, my freaking turf, and I was going to make sure they all—their obnoxious Captain especially—knew it.

“Damn right,” Gina agreed, cracking her knuckles.

I should probably have been trying to calm them down, be the bigger person, and ensure that we manage to have a cordial rink-sharing period with the damn bastards, but screw that, okay?

It wasn't fair, always having to be the bigger person.

They were the ones at fault here, they were the ones who'd gone and ruined our chances of competing last year with that stupid freaking stunt they'd pulled one night before our big game.

So, fuck 'em. I didn't have to play nice with them, neither did I want to.

"When are they coming over?"