The Opposition (Lakeview Lightning #5)

Chapter 1 Gloves Off , Game On Luna

Gloves Off, Game On

Luna

Just when I thought I had everything under control, new shit came flying at me like an open-ice hit.

First, our entire practice schedule gets upended for a thus far unexplained reason.

Probably something to do with the men’s hockey team.

Life here in the athletic department generally revolves around them. And now this…

My jersey slithers to the floor as Maisie crashes down on the bench beside me. She leans in, snooping on my convo before I can lock my phone. I finish the text to my younger sister and send my nosy bestie some side-eye. “Can I help you?”

She sits up, blinking angelic brown eyes at me, casually reaching back to twist her lucky yellow elastic around her thick ponytail. I have no clue what’s going to happen if that thing ever breaks. Possible apocalypse trigger.

“I’m good. How about you?”

I sigh, slipping my cell into my slightly funky duffle. Didn’t I wash that three days ago? “Don’t act all innocent. I know you were spying.”

She shrugs. “Gotta look out for my bff. So, what’s going on with Celeste?”

“She got accepted into this elite summer dance program at the Summergold Academy in New York. It’s super prestigious, and you know what that means?” I’m rubbing at my temples. It’s a pointless gesture and isn’t going to help me come up with the astronomical deposit.

The buzz of chatter in the dressing room is quieter than usual.

Suspicious. I glance around to make sure everyone is present and accounted for.

They should be given the borderline-stalker number of texts I sent to let them know about the last-minute change.

Being captain means keeping them in line and on schedule.

“It’s going to cost more than Bethany’s holiday ski trip to Cortina?”

“You got it. And how relieved am I to get her back with all her bones intact? I was worried she’d come back from Christmas vacay in a cast, and we’d be out one of our best defenders for the season.

” I glance up to see Beth chatting with Lil.

Her family might be super wealthy, but she works harder than anyone else on the team.

“Honestly, but knowing her, she would’ve played through it.”

“Totally.”

I absently reach for my phone again, nibbling on my lower lip as I open my social accounts.

My last few posts from the holiday break sank into the depths of online oblivion.

Counterproductive in my quest to scrape together Celeste’s deposit on top of my own financial obligations.

On-ice action clips are where the virality lurks.

“I don’t want to butt in or anything, Wilder,” Maisie says.

I cut her a look. “Pretty sure you do.” Nothing my bestie loves more than butting in, but she’s fantastic at easing my load. When I can bring myself to ask for help. That’s why I love her as my alternate.

The right side of her mouth twists up in a smirk, and she laughs. “Guilty.” She smooths her smile out. “But why are you stressing about your sister’s dance school? Shouldn’t your parents be the ones figuring it out? You’ve got enough to handle paying for your own education and equipment.”

Yes, but… is the answer. Yes, but they worked so hard to pay for my hockey all those years.

Mom worked two jobs to pay for my extracurriculars, sending me to tournaments, paying for extra coaching, and high-quality equipment.

“Now that Mom can’t work anymore, they can’t afford those extras for Celeste, and that’s not fair. Not after everything they did for me.”

“I hope your sister appreciates everything you do for her.” Maisie drops her jersey over her head.

“I’m sure she does.” Even if she doesn’t always show it. I’m quite certain I was a bit of a self-absorbed shit at sixteen, too.

It takes me an extra beat or two to realize the scuffling, and general chatter dimmed while I’ve been sitting here lost in my thoughts. There’s the anticipatory stillness that always hangs in the air before any practice or game. Crap. They’re waiting for me. My obligatory pep talk.

I shoot to my feet. “Sorry, ladies. I’m a little preoccupied.”

“I think she met a hottie over the break.” The clapping and stomping that follow Lil’s comment rattles my eardrums.

“I did not.” I shake my head at her. Like I have time for guys. Even sleep is a limited resource at the moment.

“She needs to do something wow on her social accounts. Who wants to help?” I give Maisie my best WTF look.

“I didn’t… what…”

“Have you seen that new dance where everyone is wearing a different color? We could try that.”

“I want to do the truth or dare one.”

The room is bustling again as the entire team shouts ideas over each other.

I was already doing videos and growing my following when I started at Lakeview.

Demonstrating various techniques for skating, stick handling, training.

It was fun. But once the girls saw me, they all wanted in.

And now the Elles, as we call ourselves, have become very popular.

They’re all in, and my viewers go feral when we make a video with the team.

“Hey! Everyone be quiet!”

The noise dims a fraction, but not enough to save me from a sore throat tomorrow.

“I’ll think about it. See if we can’t whip something together.

In the meantime, we’ve still got practice.

Happy New Year and welcome back. Good to see you all in one piece.

” I level a stern look at Beth, and she responds with a serene smile.

“This is our first practice of the semester, but I hope you all kept up with your workouts.” I was hitting the weights hard even on Christmas Day.

“After the thrashing Chicago gave us last time we played them, I’m itching to hand their asses to them next week, so hop to it. Hit the ice, team!”

We huddle together, stacking our hands, and my favorite cheer rings out as we throw them in the air. “Go, Elles!”

It may not be a game, but I’ve always found it helpful to get everyone pumped even before practice. The harder you train, the better you play. That’s one lesson I’ve taken from the rink to my life.

Coach Danner is ready for us with a slight frown as she holds her arm up to make a show of glancing at her watch. “Wilder, why are you getting your team on the ice late?”

“Sorry, Coach.”

“Everyone out there for twenty laps. If you can beat your best collective time, I’ll go easy on you. Don’t mind Maya over there. She’s a volunteer with the PR team. She’ll be filming some of our practices and behind-the-scenes stuff for the team’s social media accounts.”

A tiny girl, engulfed by a riot of brown curls on her head, waves at us with a huge grin from the sidelines.

A united chorus of groans and grumbles overshadows her introduction, but we all know better than to dally. She starts the timer before her words have disappeared in the clatter of skates hitting the ground as we rush out the door and down the hall to the rink.

“Give her!” I yell as I’m hopping onto the fresh ice ahead of the pack. The beautiful sound of blades swishing follows me as I’m shooting off. I push myself to maintain my lead with Beth close on my heels.

The orange cones are a blur as I zigzag through them, breath coming in rapid pants. But I push through the exhaustion, sliding toward the net from the right side.

My defense team takes turns sending me the puck, and I calculate the angles to land each shot in the back of the net.

I hop up, thrusting my stick in the air, and the rest of the ladies cheer. It was a fantastic practice, but I’m about ready to melt into a puddle of exhaustion on the ice. Danner worked us extra hard to make up for any missed time over the holiday break.

Strands of loose, sweaty hair slap me in the face as I rip my helmet off. This hot mess is why I usually film my videos at the start of practice.

I hesitate. We may not be creating a makeup tutorial, but there is still an expectation for us to look perfect on camera.

Good old double standards. Jenson, the goalie on the guys’ team, has a small following on social media and posts a lot of videos.

He’s only got a few thousand followers, nowhere near my counts, but I’ve watched some of his stuff and I’m not sure the guy ever brushes his hair.

But I bet no one is dropping into his DMs to troll him for not looking his best.

“Maybe we should leave it for next practice.” I rub at the knot of anxiety that’s settled into my chest. It’s always there, but right now I know I have a tuition check to send in and a deadline to pay the deposit for Celeste’s dance program.

“No way!” Maisie slides to a stop in front of me, blades sending a cold shower of ice at my overheated face. “Helmets on?”

She spins in a slow circle, arms held out to the rest of the team.

“But helmet on vids never do as well, and I saw your numbers over the holidays. You totally need this. We can do a quick brush and wipe. Show off our gorgeous faces.”

Brit stumbles as she rushes off the ice, catching herself before she can go flying into the bench.

I shrug. Clearly, they’re all in on this. Their support fills my chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling that eases the anxiety. With these amazing ladies beside me, I know I can handle anything.

“Okay, so I was thinking we do something simple. We need those spare minutes to pretty ourselves up. Not that we’re not already stunning, but you know the Internet. Camera on top of the net, and everyone slides in with a new year’s resolution?”

“Serious or silly?” Maisie asks.

“Umm.” I purse my lips. “Either? Whatever you’re feeling. Doesn’t need to be worthy of Shakespeare. I know not everyone even makes resolutions, so just vibe. Let your personalities shine.”

I have to untangle myself from the giggling huddle to set everything up for the video.