Chapter 6 Parker
“What the hell is that?” I stared in horror as Elliot Ford slowly and carefully moved into the art classroom, a pair of crutches clicking with each step he took. His foot was elevated off the ground in a large protective boot.
“Ford, what did you do?” I cursed. Only he could be selfish enough to get injured before the season had even started.
His eyes narrowed in response. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Well, it sure looks like you did! Or is this some kind of joke?”
“I wish,” he grumbled, gradually making his way to the front of the room. Still, I had no answers.
“Do you know what happened?” I spun to face Seth who was leaning against the table beside me.
Although he didn’t take art, he had a free period now and had come to gleefully update me on how Mackenzie Foster was letting everyone in school know the truth about my injured face.
She’d already tried her best to ruin my hockey career three years ago; now she was back to ruin my reputation. It wasn’t even lunch on her first day.
“Apparently, he slipped and fell while stretching in the shower last night,” Seth said with a smirk.
“Stretching?”
“Yeah, probably had a bit of tension to release…”
“Well that’s a graphic I never want to picture again.”
Seth laughed, but I couldn’t find the humor. This was a serious problem.
“How long are you going to be wearing that thing?” I called across the room to Elliot, who had taken a seat.
“Not sure.” He shrugged. “I need to go back for more tests, but the doctor said it could be at least six weeks.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Don’t get me wrong; I had often dreamed of some terrible mishap befalling Elliot so another player could take over as starting goaltender.
But our first game of the season was on Friday, and we didn’t have a backup goalie.
Not a good one, anyway. Elliot was quite literally the devil we needed.
“What are we going to do?” I groaned.
“To help Elliot?” Seth asked, clearly confused.
“No, idiot. The team. He’s the only goaltender in Ransom who can stop a puck. Since Micah moved to Florida, the only other option we have is that kid Anderson.”
“There’s really no one else?”
“No, everyone else who tried out at the start of preseason was even worse. Don’t you remember?” I almost shuddered at the thought. Most of them could barely stay upright on their skates.
“I didn’t really notice.” Seth shrugged.
“Trust me, they played like they’d never held a hockey stick in their lives.”
Seth nodded, as though he was finally starting to understand my urgency. “Sounds like a problem for the new coach.”
“It’ll be a problem for all of us if Anderson plays in our first game this Friday. We’re up against some strong teams to start this season, and in just over a month, we’ve got the homecoming game against Sunshine Hills.”
“You worry too much.”
“You don’t worry enough. It’s homecoming. My whole family will be there. And the Saints are our biggest rivals. I refuse to lose to them.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Seth lowered his voice. “Besides, I think you’ve got a bigger problem.”
He nodded toward the door as Mackenzie came barreling into the room.
She was still wearing her borrowed outfit from the school office.
The sweatshirt was way too big on her, and she must have been cold with such bare legs.
An uncomfortable feeling swirled in my chest. Surely it couldn’t be guilt, could it?
Was I an asshole for getting her wet today? Probably. But I’d been telling the truth when she confronted me earlier: splashing her was genuinely an accident. But that didn’t mean I was sorry she got soaked. It was just a little water—not, for example, a black eye.
I’d mostly managed to avoid Mackenzie so far today.
So why, of all the classes, did this have to be the one we shared?
Art was the only subject I didn’t totally hate or suck at.
There were no right or wrong answers when I entered this room, and it was the one place that could take my mind away from the pressures of hockey; where I could switch off for a little while and relax. She was the last person I wanted here.
“I still can’t believe you soaked her with your car,” Seth said.
“I didn’t mean to,” I replied. “It was a happy accident.”
He rolled his eyes at me and glanced Mackenzie’s way again. “Yeah, well, I think she won this round. Even in those lost-and-found clothes, she still looks pretty hot. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
I glanced around the room to see several other guys looking at her with interest. Another uncomfortable swirling started in my chest. As much as I hated to admit it, Mackenzie was hot.
And something about seeing her in a Devils jersey only increased the appeal.
I shook the thought from my head. Her looks didn’t change anything.
“Let’s see how interested they are once they’ve actually met her.”
Mackenzie had found a seat near Elliot at the front of the room and was yet to even glance in my direction.
“She doesn’t seem too bad,” Seth said.
“Easy for you to say.” I gestured toward my face. “She hasn’t tried to break your nose.”
“I’m sure it was just a happy accident.”
I glared at him. “You’re also forgetting the time she kissed me, knowing full well her father was psychotic and would kick me off the camp.”
“Yeah, you really need to get over that.”
“Get over it?” I growled. “I feel like I’m reliving it. Only this time, if her dad decides he wants me gone it’ll ruin the most important season of my life. That girl is like a walking tornado. I need to stay well away from her or I’ll get torn to shreds.”
Seth started to laugh.
“It’s not funny.”
“It is kind of funny. Only you would mess up your entire future in hockey because of a kiss with some girl.”
“I was fourteen.”
“And you haven’t changed one bit.”
I sighed and dropped my head into my hands. Seth was the worst person to talk to if I was looking for sympathy.
“Seth Walker, don’t you have your own class to get to?” Mr. Green had finally decided to make an appearance. He was only five minutes late, which had to be a record for him.
“Actually, I have a free period.”
“And you should be using that time to study. Now stop distracting my students. Out of my classroom, please.”
“Okay.” Seth grinned at the teacher. “But don’t miss me too much.”
Mr. Green sighed and continued to the front of the room.
“All right, everyone, let’s get started.” He raised his voice as he made his way past the easels and desks peppering the room. “I want you working on your personal portfolios today, please.” He stopped next to Mackenzie’s desk.
“Mackenzie, why don’t we have a chat in my office?”
I snorted under my breath as I pulled out my tablet.
Mr. Green’s “office” was just behind me at the back of the room, and it was no more than a paint closet.
It was tiny, but he’d somehow squeezed a desk and two chairs in there.
He used it for most of his student meetings so we could talk about our work more privately.
Mr. Green was always trying to encourage us to search for deeper meanings in our art, and conversations in his office often felt a little like being on a psychiatrist’s couch.
I liked art, but that definitely wasn’t my style.
As Mackenzie followed the teacher to the back of the room, her green eyes landed on me. They glinted like gems, sharp and cold. She seemed just as annoyed as I was about sharing this class.
“Nice outfit,” I said as she walked past.
“Nice nose,” she snapped in reply, barely breaking stride.
A smile crept onto my lips, but I quickly quashed it.
I was supposed to be avoiding this girl at all costs, but I couldn’t seem to let an opportunity to mess with her pass me by.
There was something about the way her eyes narrowed whenever she saw me and her fists clenched whenever I spoke that I enjoyed a little bit too much.
I leaned back in my chair as I watched her continue to Mr. Green’s office.
As she reached the room, she glanced back and caught me staring. The glare she sent me was so piercing, I wondered if it was possible to punch someone with a look alone. She truly hated me, yet the thought only made me smile.
But then my chair started to wobble beneath me.
I’d leaned back too far, and my arms shot out as I tried to rebalance.
I must have looked like a flailing octopus as I desperately attempted to stop myself from falling.
I threw my weight forward and just barely managed to save myself from crashing to the floor.
I glanced at the students sitting nearby. A few shot me confused looks but most hadn’t noticed. However, when I looked back at Mackenzie she was biting her lip, trying to withhold her laughter before she disappeared into Mr. Green’s office.
I attempted to focus on my project, an illustrated comic strip inspired by a box of old superhero comics my dad found in the attic over the summer.
Flicking through them, I’d started to wonder why superheroes were always stuck saving the world.
I knew with great power came great responsibility, but what if Clark Kent didn’t want to fight for truth, justice, and a better tomorrow?
What if instead he used his secret powers to become an unstoppable hockey player?
I was quite proud of how the comic was coming along, but I was struggling today.
I found myself constantly glancing toward the back of the room.
I shouldn’t have cared what Mackenzie was talking about with the teacher.
But a part of me was curious. And when there was a lull in the noise of classroom conversations, I realized I was close enough to the slightly ajar door of Mr. Green’s office that I could hear him talking.
“Your love of hockey really shines through in some of your previous pieces, Mackenzie,” he said. “Is that the focus of your current project?”