Chapter 10 #3
After our warm-up laps, where I spent my time at the back of the pack, eyes glued to the back of Sebastian’s jersey, the coaches announced we’d be focusing on individual skills to ease into the new combined practice format.
There were three stations set up across the ice, the cones spaced out evenly to ensure that each group had enough room to run their drills.
When the coaches split us into groups, I found myself lumped in with Sebastian.
I was sure they wanted to test our ability to remain peaceful around one another.
The skills sequence would have been familiar to any hockey player.
It was a basic yet crucial aspect of training, one that focused on fundamental skating technique, puck control, and stickhandling.
Within the first few minutes, everyone had fallen into a steady rhythm.
It didn’t take long for me to realize that Sebastian and I were both hyperaware of one another.
His eyes burned a hole into my back as I worked through the drills, and I passed my downtime studying his movement across the ice, waiting with bated breath for the moment things took a turn.
I was slightly exhilarated by the thought of quarreling with Sebastian.
It was practically second nature by now, and I couldn’t deny that I liked watching the self-satisfied smirk melt off his face the moment I landed a worthy jab.
“You might have a bucket on, but everyone can tell you’re staring.” I’d just returned to the line after completing a sequence when I overheard Liv from a few paces away.
She was talking to Sebastian, I realized, when he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Her form is practically perfect; it’s impressive.”
“Did you hear that, Grace?” Liv shifted to face me, grinning like a maniac. “Sebastian thinks you’re perfect!”
He didn’t look the least bit embarrassed as he glanced over his shoulder at me. “I thought you deserved a compliment after this weekend. It took a lot of courage to admit you think I’m handsome.”
The group of players around us seemed to freeze, a few chuckles sifting over the noisy sounds of practice. I knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself, though I had to admit, it was light work for Sebastian. I was sure he had something more offensive up his sleeve.
“But don’t let it go to your head,” he said with a playful smirk. “I’m still the best hockey player on this ice.”
>> <<
Sebastian
My insides seemed to vibrate at the sight of Grace blushing from behind the bars of her cage.
I hadn’t known what to expect for the first shared practice, especially after our bizarre interaction on Halloween, but it definitely wasn’t this, whatever this was.
It felt like there was a rope connecting us, one that grew tauter with every shared glance.
I was simultaneously scared and excited to know what would happen if—no, when—it snapped.
For the remainder of practice, I kept her within my sights at all times.
Everyone here had a certain level of expertise that set them apart from the average hockey player, but Grace stood out amongst them all.
Being on the ice was second nature to her, and I wondered if her introduction to hockey had been anything like mine—at the hands of someone she loved during the earliest years of her life.
Each time I felt the heat of her stare, I pushed myself to work a little harder, knowing that after today, Grace wouldn’t be able to deny that I had every right to be cocky.
At some point, our watchful fascination with each other shifted into something more like a game.
It was clear we were trying to show the other up by way of fancy footwork and deceptive puck handling.
Everyone around us had caught on to our little contest—even the coaches, who seemed just fine with a healthy dose of competition.
Our final battle took form as a series of sprinting drills.
The entire time we remained neck and neck, one of us pushing to the lead just to be overtaken by the other.
When the coaches finally dismissed the teams, we both ended up on our backs, splayed out across the ice, chests heaving as we tried to catch our breath.
We weren’t the only ones unable to move.
There were several other forms sprawled out like dead bodies.
“So,” Grace said as she pulled herself up to a sitting position and removed her helmet. “Do you still think the men are more deserving of this facility? Have we sullied this good ice with our terrible female ways?”
Beside her, Caroline let out a snort of laughter.
Both were pink-cheeked and covered in a thin layer of sweat.
Lydia was there too, but she was still lying on her back sucking large gulps of air into her lungs.
Grace had wedged her way into their best friend dynamic.
I’d rarely seen the pair around campus without her.
“I never said the men are more deserving. But I do think we’d wipe the floor with you ladies. No offense.”
“Being bigger or stronger doesn’t mean better,” she quipped.
“What about faster or—”
“Oh, don’t even go there,” Caroline interrupted. “You and Grace were neck and neck during sprints.”
I was playing devil’s advocate for the sake of pushing Grace’s buttons.
The women were excellent hockey players.
Their record was proof, and their performance today a reminder.
None of this ridiculous back-and-forth had ever been about skill level or who deserved what.
It had always been about ensuring my success on the ice and increasing my chances of going pro.
“We can all agree strength and size doesn’t automatically equate to skill level,” Lydia said.
“That applies off the ice as well,” snickered Landon.
A chorus of laughter rose from the group.
The sound was a shock to my system. I looked around the rink, surprised at the sense of ease I felt being surrounded by players from the women’s team.
Even with Grace just a few feet away, I was more relaxed than I had been in weeks.
Had I been sabotaging myself this whole time, or was this just the calm before the storm?
I looked to my left and caught Grace watching me.
“Do I have something on my face?” I asked.
“The look of a smug asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone.”
At her words, a tingle of excitement shot down my spine. I knew she wouldn’t be able to make it through today without insulting me, especially after I’d teased her about the handsome comment.
“So much for being civil.”
“The truth can be a hard reality,” she said.
“Is that why it took you so long to admit that I’m handsome?”
Grace scoffed. “Are you ever going to let that go? Everyone thinks you’re hot. It’s not your looks that are the problem.”
“Oh, yeah? Then what is?”
“The stick that’s clearly still lodged up your—”
“Why don’t we channel all of this energy into something more productive than bickering?” suggested Lydia. The right winger had finally managed to pull herself into a sitting position, her discarded helmet lying a few inches away on the ice beside Grace’s.
“What do you mean?”
“Showing off and trying to best each other in practice today was a productive way to channel your negative feelings for one another,” she explained, eyes darting back and forth between me and Grace.
Who did she think she was, our therapist?
“A competition could be a good idea,” Caroline said. “Clearly, you both feel the need to prove the other wrong. Sebastian thinks he’s the best, and Grace thinks he’s a sexist prick.”
“No one said sexist,” I pointed out.
Grace chuckled. “Oh, I’ve definitely called you sexist. Just not today. Or to your face.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to Caroline.
She had a point. There was tension between Grace and me, a tension that had the power to cause more trouble than we’d already gotten ourselves into.
Maybe if I was focused on beating Grace, I’d be less focused on how angry I was about the article.
Or how badly I wanted to sleep with her. Or that stupid Puck You sign.
“What about a bet?” I proposed, Caroline’s voice playing in mind. Sebastian thinks he’s the best, and Grace thinks he’s a sexist prick. “Grace, do you remember that man from the gala? The one I was speaking to before you ran into me?”
She sighed. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“That was Elijah Peters. He’s a close family friend and a very wealthy alumnus of Dallard.
He’s going to make a large donation to the men’s hockey program at the end of the season.
” I paused for dramatic effect. “If you can match or better my stats for the season, I’ll convince him to split the donation between the men’s and the women’s teams.”
The annoyance on her face melted away. She glanced between Caroline and Lydia. There seemed to be some sort of silent communication taking place. Behind them, Kent watched in clear fascination. He pushed himself up from the ice and onto his skates.
“How do you know he’ll agree to that?” Lydia asked.
“He’s very close with my family. If I ask him to split his donation, he will. Plus, he met Grace at the gala. I could tell he liked her.”
“What kind of stats are we talking here?” Bryce asked, chiming in to the conversation.
I hadn’t even noticed him at the edge of the rink, leaning against the barrier.
Given that we’d barely exchanged more than a few words since our conversation on Halloween, I assumed this was his way of letting me know that everything was good between us.
“Let’s keep it simple,” Caroline said. “We can look at overall numbers for assists, goals, and face-offs won at the end of the season.”
That would be a piece of cake. “I accept.”
“And if I lose?” Grace asked.
“When you lose,” I said, “you’ll publicly apologize for the comments you made about me in the school newspaper and admit that I’m the better hockey player.”