Chapter 6 #2
Another hockey player attracts my attention at the end of the line.
Nash’s green eyes are fixed on me too, their intensity searing into me like a branding iron.
His jaw ticks as he looks at me, and I can’t help but wish that things were different and that he would fight for me like Colsen and Tucker are doing.
“And now,” the mayor says into the microphone. “Without further ado, the Star Cove Shooting Stars. Go Knights!”
That’s the cue for the music to start, and once I begin dancing, everything else fades into the background.
COLSEN
The noise in the locker room is deafening as we celebrate our first victory of the pre-season.
“Frozen Four, Frozen Four!” my teammates are chanting.
They’re getting rowdier with every passing second. Vaughn and Davis lift Mack into the air, carrying him around the locker room on their shoulders.
“Hail to King Shayba,” Vaughn yells. “I can’t believe you scored a hat trick tonight.”
Davis agrees. “The rest of us were a little slow, like it’s expected in the pre-season, but you were on fucking fire.”
“I’m not the only one who scored tonight. Hunter and Reilly scored too, and so did you, Heston.”
We beat UCLA six-zero.
“True,” Vaughn Heston insists. “But none of us scored a hat trick. And you didn’t even get that much ice time considering that Coach wanted to make sure we all got plenty of ice time.”
When they finally put him down, Mack comes to sit on the bench opposite our lockers. “And goals aren’t everything.” He says, slapping me on the back. “Let’s not forget our Col, who served me three perfect assists.”
“I just did my job.” I chime in. “Let’s not forget our amazing goalie. We scored a lot tonight, but UCLA wasn’t hopeless. They tried everything in their power to get past Tucker, but he was on fire.”
“It’s true!” Mack agrees. “Without Tucker, it wouldn’t have been a shutout. Maybe we wouldn’t have even won. UCLA was aggressive as fuck. But we have the best goalie in the division.”
Tucker usually loves praise, and this time is no different. “Aww, thanks guys. I love you too.” He smiles as he’s almost done undressing.
“Tucker, Tucker, Tucker!” The whole locker room begins to chant.
And while I might not be the best at accepting praise, Tucker embraces it with every fiber of his being.
He takes off his infamous lucky underpants and climbs onto the bench. “Go Knights, go Knights!” he chants, spinning the padded underpants over his head. “I’m gonna throw these. The one who catches them will have the luckiest season.” Tucker announces.
I chuckle as my best friend turns his back to the rest of the team and then, like a bride throwing her bouquet, flings his pants in the air behind him.
Tucker’s back is to the locker room door, so he can’t see how the door opens the second he throws his pants.
He also can’t see Coach Harrison entering the locker room with his assistant coach and one of the physical therapists.
Silence descends on the room.
“What’s up? Who’s the lucky motherfucker who caught them? Oh, shit.”
Tucker freezes in terror when he sees why we’ve all gone quiet.
“I’m the lucky motherfucker.” Coach Harrison takes the protective boxers off his face and holds them away from his body by the waistband.
“Prescott, I’ve seen thousands of jocks in my day.
But let me tell you that I’ve never seen anything more disgusting than these.
Are you sure you don’t need another physical? These smell like death.”
I swear on my NHL contract, I’ve never seen Tucker blush like this before. He’s practically purple.
“No, sir.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m fine, sir.”
There’s no doubt in my mind that Tucker isn’t embarrassed by the fact that he’s buck naked. I think it’s more because his lucky underwear landed on Coach’s face.
“But are you fine, Prescott?” Coach hands him back his protective underwear with a visible shudder of disgust. “That smell can’t be normal. You must have some kind of infection.”
“No, Coach. I promise I’m fine. Those are my lucky pants and they smell a little… intense because they haven’t been washed since my first official NCAA game my freshman year.”
He explains the story we’ve all heard every time someone challenges him about how disgusting his protective boxers are.
“I see,” Coach nods. “If that’s the case, keep up the excellent work, son. But for the love of all that’s holy, keep that biohazard shit contained. I’m on board with anything that brings us favorable juju, but I hope I never have to come so close to your good luck charm again.”
“Sorry, sir.” Tucker hangs his head.
Coach looks around the locker room. “Ladies, I came here to say that I’m impressed with your performance tonight.
For a bunch of slacker pain in my asses, you played your hearts out.
But this was just the first game of the preseason, and we have a lot of work to do if we want to win the second championship in a row. ”
A choir of “Yes, sir!” echoes in the locker room.
“This is why,” the smile on Coach’s face doesn’t promise anything good. “I want to see you tomorrow bright and early for morning skate. And I’m issuing a curfew for 9 p.m. tonight.”
The mood in the locker room changes at that announcement.
“What?” Vaughn wails. “But we were gonna hit the town to celebrate our W.”
Mack is on his same page. “Coach, it’s 8 p.m. now. If the curfew is at 9, there’s no way we can go out.”
The smile on Coach’s face widens. “That’s the idea. I want you all tucked into your beds after you shower. You have time for a snack if you make it quick.”
“Harsh,” Haller groans. “Especially after we played such a great game tonight.”
Coach levels him with a withering glare.
“Let me set this straight, everyone. Since you reported to camp, you’ve enjoyed new, state-of-the-art training grounds.
For the first time in the history of our team, we’ve been given brand new equipment, courtesy of our sponsors.
And on top of that, the reality show means a hefty payout for everyone on the roster, whether you get to play during the preseason tournament and regardless of footage with your faces is shown to the viewers.
But all of these perks come with expectations.
And pressure to win this tournament and the championship once the season starts.
I’m responsible for making sure that happens.
I don’t have to remind you that all of this is part of our sponsors’ plan to bring a new NHL team to Star Cove.
So you’re all going to do as you’re told and show me, our sponsors, the college athletic department, and the entire town that you’re Division One athletes and excellent NHL prospects. Am I being clear?”
The next “Yes sir” is way less enthusiastic than the one before the curfew was announced.
“Nite, ladies. Don’t let the bedbugs bite, and don’t be late tomorrow morning, or I’m gonna make you regret it.”
The locker room is silent again as Coach and his staff walk out.
The noise of a locker door being slammed shut sounds louder than ever in the forlorn mood the curfew announcement left behind.
“Belkin, wait.” Vaughn Heston quits tapping on his phone screen to stop Nash from walking to the showers with his caddy in his hands.
“Before you go. Guys, this curfew is bullshit. Maybe Coach is too old to remember his college days, but he should know that morale is as important as training to keep up winning streaks.”
There are a few nods and murmurs of agreement from the team.
I don’t like the look on Heston’s face.
Vaughn Heston is a sophomore, a very talented center I’ve been mentoring when he started last year.
He isn’t a bad guy, but he has a lot of growing up to do.
Right now he’s always looking for the next party, and he’s already campaigning for Gamma president once the fall semester starts.
He reminds me of the way Tucker was until a year ago, but with a fundamental difference.
While Tucker attended Star Cove College on an athletic scholarship, Vaughn comes from money, and that sometimes translates into a sense of entitlement.
He tends to act like the rules don’t apply to him because his family can buy his way out of trouble if needed.
“I don’t disagree.” I chime in. “But you heard Coach. I hope you aren’t planning to break curfew.”
His angelic smile promises nothing but trouble. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But staying home doesn’t mean we can’t get what we were looking for in town.”
“And what is that?”
“Pussy.” He chuckles. “Why else would we go to a bar?”
I guess. Before meeting Taryn, that would have been my number one priority too. “Ok. But how are we gonna get pussy without leaving our apartments? Please tell me you didn’t just hire an escort service or something.”
Ask stupid questions and you get stupid prizes. I should get that golden nugget of truth tattooed on my forehead.
“Absolutely not.” Vaughn grins. “That would be illegal, and Coach would have a coronary if he found out.”
“Then how?” I insist.
He shows me his phone screen. “Why go to town to sift through a ton of sixes when we have forty perfect tens in our building? Party at my place at ten. I just invited all the Shooting Stars.”
“Whoa,” I bite out. “I don’t even want to start discussing how much of a douchebag comment that is. But regardless, weren’t you there when they explained that the cheerleaders have a no fraternization clause in their contracts and if they’re caught with us they’ll get kicked off the team?”
“Do I come to practice in a tiny spandex sports bra and hot pants?” Vaughn laughs.
“Their contracts are their own problem. Besides, I’m pre-law and technically they haven’t signed a contract yet; they’re still going through a selection process.
So if they got cut for hanging out with us, they could sue. ”
Nash backs me up. “That doesn’t mean that they won’t get into trouble if we get caught. Besides, did you forget that Coach threatened to bench us too if we’re caught fraternizing?”
Our objections don’t put a dent in Vaughn’s bravado. “Can Coach bench us all? He’d have no team left. And the same is true for the cheerleaders. They can’t send them all home. Safety in numbers, baby.”
I’m not sure I like his way of thinking, but I guess Heston isn’t totally wrong. I do still think that the no fraternization clause is a lot of bullshit.
As everyone starts heading to the showers with a new pep in their step, Tucker looks at me. “Maybe that’s a chance to hang out with Taryn. I hate defying Coach, but Heston is right that they can’t send us all home or bench us all.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I agree, excited at the idea of spending some time with my girl.
“Really?” Nash bites out. “I can understand that level of idiocy from Haston, since he’s a kid.
But you two are seniors; you should know better.
Sure, Coach can’t bench us all. But he can punish us for not following his rules and make our lives miserable.
Or did you forget why I got this fucking bruise?
” He touches the spot under his chin that’s turning from purple to a greenish yellow.
I meet his gaze and smile at him. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten. And act like a douche again with Taryn and I don’t care about Coach’s punishments. I’ll kick your ass on or off the ice.”
Nash shakes his head. “I seriously don’t understand you two. Isn’t sharing the same woman between the two of you weird enough without adding me into the mix?”
“It would be if Taryn didn’t get this sad look on her face every time she sees you or you’re even mentioned. For some reason I don’t fully understand, she really likes you.” I glare at him.
He looks at me for a long moment. “I like her too. But between that stupid clause and the two of you pursuing her like it’s a national sport, I don’t know.
Even if I wanted to risk my career and Taryn’s spot on the team, I don’t think I can share the way the two of you do. I would want her all to myself.”
“You’re looking at it the wrong way.” Tucker argues. “You shouldn’t focus on the fact that she likes us, but that she likes you. That’s all that matters. Come to the party, let’s hang out. We don’t have to do anything crazy, just hang out with her and us.”
Nash doesn’t even consider it. “Hard pass. I’m tired and I really need to get some rest to be able to face whatever punishment Coach will dish out tomorrow after your party gets busted.”
“Suit yourself.” I bite out, opening my locker to get my own shower supplies.