Rush (Saints vs. Pirates #3)

Prologue

. . .

Being the new kid is the worst. I don’t understand why Mom had to move us here.

The only thing she says anytime I ask is that it was best for Allie, my two-year-old sister.

So far, she seems fine with the move. I guess her crib is better.

Mom doesn’t cry every night either when she thinks I’m sleeping and can’t hear her.

Maybe our move to Crimson Bay will be a good thing.

I just have to make a few friends on the ice and I’ll feel better.

That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.

Except there are exactly three other girls on the ice besides me and the rest are all boys.

At this level, the town isn’t big enough for a girls’ league on its own, so they combine everyone and make up three different teams. Somehow I ended up on the team where the only other girl can barely skate.

My eyes roam over her while she holds her hands out at her sides.

“Are you sure you’re going to make it to the other end?” I ask, feeling skeptical.

The girl’s skates shift back and forth on the ice, like she's running in place, rather than gliding. “Ah, yeah. I think so. It's just really hard.”

I take in her plastic pink skates, the fuchsia pink socks, her light pink jersey and her white helmet. My eyes are sore from how bright she looks before her skates slide out from under her, and she lands on her butt. “Oww.”

“Maybe you should sit on the bench for a few minutes,” I offer with a small shrug of my shoulders.

“I think that's a good idea.” She manages to get on her skates again before slowly stepping her way off to the side. I watch her hobble over the step and sit on the bench. A man appears above her, leaning over the plexiglass, clearly asking if she's okay. She points to the ice and her back. His eyes are filled with concern and he hands her a water bottle over the glass. The scene makes my heart hurt. I don’t remember much of my dad anymore. He died when I was a year older than Allie. My first memories of being on the ice are filled with him, but his voice sounds different now in my memories. Sometimes I wish he was here to take me to practices, so Mom didn’t have to rush around all the time.

One of the coaches blows a whistle, and I skate over to where he’s having everyone come together.

While he talks about the next drill, I scan the group of kids, a few of them are staring at me too.

I’m new here, moved in after the school year already started, so I’m sure I stick out.

Another girl with pink laces gives me a big smile.

At least she isn’t dressed head to toe in the color.

She looks like we could be friends because I am also not a girl who loves the color pink everywhere.

Red is my favorite color. The other girl has a long dark braid, and her eyes are more assessing.

I give her a small smile and she gives me one too before her attention is pulled away by the dark-haired boy standing next to her.

The coaches dismiss us back to our groups and I skate over to the blue line, getting behind the kids in front of me. I watch the first few take off, doing the drill, and I get ready for when I’m up next.

“I’m pretty fast,” the boy next to me, my partner for this drill, says. “I always win. Don’t feel bad if you can’t catch me.”

My eyes narrow on him and my cheeks heat. “We’ll see.”

We both bend at the waist, ready to push off and tear down the ice.

The whistle blows, and we take off. My skates glide until I’m practically running across the ice.

The wind slips under my neck guard and my hair blows behind me.

And I’m winning. My stick crosses the red line way ahead of the boy, my body following.

So much for always winning. I look over at him to find him scowling. “Better luck next time.”

I jump into the next line and the kid in front of me turns, his cheeks puffed out with laughter. “He’s so mad.”

“Bet.” Another boy, now next to me, turns and smiles. “He even got beat by a girl.”

“You skate really fast,” the kid in front of me says, and I feel my cheeks turning red.

“I practice a lot,” I tell him, my shoulders shrugging.

“What’s your name? Are you new here?” the kid in front of me asks.

I nod my head lightly. “Yeah, my mom just got a new job here. I’m Sam. What's yours?”

“I’m Braysen,” he answers and looks over to the other kid. “And that’s Luca.”

The other boy waves one of his gloved hands then says, “Well, don’t worry about Travers. He’s not that good; he just likes to show off.”

I glance over at the boy I beat and see that he’s keeping turned away from us. He even moved up in line, so we aren’t paired together again. What a baby. I’m about to voice my opinion out loud when there’s a noise from the bench area.

“Kane, you’re late!” Braysen yells, looking over my shoulder. I glance back.

The boy who just arrived looks a little older than both of us.

He slips his helmet on, thick dark hair flipping out underneath, before grabbing his stick and hitting the ice.

I notice as he skates over to us that he’s easily a head taller than me and the others around us, and I’m one of the tallest girls in my grade.

He stops right in front of me, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to look at his face.

Dark brown eyes are looking right at me.

He has very faint freckles across his nose.

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t sneer, just watches me.

“Yo, Jameson, it's time for the next drill, you’re in my way.” Luca tries to shove him, but the kid shoves him back, all while staring at me.

“I’m racing her,” the kid says, and Luca falls back in line. “Ready?”

He turns to look at me, right as the whistle blows.

Jameson, age 10

She’s new. And she beat Calvyn Travers through the drill, which means she probably skates just as fast as I do. My eyes run over her skates, which look about as beat up as mine, and I can’t help but smile.

The whistle blows, and we race through the drill.

She follows steadily behind me around the circle.

Our distance gets tighter when we get to the cones.

I pass her the puck and she passes it back before our final stretch.

One of the coaches is yelling at us to use our speed.

My eyes flick to the side and I can see her gaze is on the red line where the finish is.

She’s concentrating so hard that her teeth are biting into the edge of her mouth guard.

My lips twitch, and I almost feel bad that I’m beating her.

At the very last second, my legs ease up, and we glide over the line, my skates just barely an inch in front of hers.

She’s grinning at how close she thinks we were.

My stomach fills with a weird, fluttering feeling, and I stop dead in my tracks.

She leans against the boards. “That was so close. I can’t believe you beat me.”

My head tilts confused. Then I realize she thought she actually would beat me. Like she’s used to being the fastest skater on the ice. Who is this girl?

“Are you new this year?”

She smiles, all teeth, and her eyes light up, and I feel a dull redness hit my cheeks. “My family just moved here.”

“What’s your name?” I ask low enough that my friends around me don’t hear me asking, even though they were just laughing with her before I got here. For some reason, it made me mad, but now that I’ve seen her skate, she isn’t that bad.

“Sam,” she says, her blue eyes glancing at my face before she turns to watch the rest of the players finish up the drill. “What’s your name?”

Her voice makes my throat feel tight. “Jameson.” She nods and there’s another small smile on her lips.

Before I know it, she’s zooming through another drill and is then moved off into another group with all the other girl players.

I try to keep my attention on the coach and what he’s saying.

I even try really hard to pay attention to the bets and the jokes my friends are talking about, but I keep looking for Sam.

I keep catching sight of her long, blonde braid swishing against her jersey.

At the end of practice, I start to skate over to the new girl, wanting to talk to her one more time.

At the boards, she grabs her water bottle.

My mouth opens when Braysen starts talking to her.

Fire spreads through my chest and up my throat.

I’ve never had a problem with my best friend before, but this, this is a problem.

I want to talk to her. I want her blue eyes on me.

Any talk about hockey can be with me. I stop right next to Braysen, and my shoulder dips into his, pushing him back.

He waffles on his skates and shoots me a glare.

“What the heck, bro?”

I shrug, my grin spreading as I turn to look at the new girl and see her brow raised. “Sam’s my new best friend, Bray. Back up.”