On ice.
Blake's POV.
“My grandmother can move faster than that!” Coach shouted.
The puck was on my stick.
I could hear the crowd screaming, but I didn't pay attention to them.
My eyes were fixed on the puck.
I've been training for this day all my life, and I wasn't prepared to let it slip off like that.
I pushed my skates harder against the ice, blades biting cold air, moving forward as fast as I could.
One of the players from the other team came straight toward me, and I moved to the left.
He followed me.
I quickly moved to the right, and he almost caught me.
“f**k!” I cursed under my breath.
I smirked as I pulled the puck back and moved around him.
“Blake!”
I heard Coach shouting from the side of the rink.
“Pass the f*****g puck, boy!”
I looked up just in time to see Roman, the team captain. He was open.
I wanted to pass the puck to him, but another player got in the way.
I tightened my grip on my stick and kept moving.
“Everyone eyes on Blake!” Coach shouted.
But I guess it was for the other team, because all of their members started closing in on me.
“Seriously?” I muttered.
I pushed harder.
My skates flew across the ice as I moved toward the goal, lungs burning, legs screaming to slow down.
The crowd was getting louder.
I could hear them screaming my name as I closed in on the rival's net.
“Come on, Blake!”
I raised my stick and took the shot.
The puck flew straight into the net.
Goal.
The entire rink exploded.
I threw my hands into the air as my teammates rushed toward me.
“We did it!”
“That was insane!”
I laughed as they hit my helmet and pulled me into a hug.
The game started again shortly after. Our rhythm found its feet. We still weren't playing as cleanly as our rivals, but we were closing the gap.
I chased the puck across the rink, took it off one of their players, and passed it to Roman.
He passed it to another teammate, and we scored again.
The crowd erupted into another wave of cheers, clapping and shouting our names.
I moved forward again.
“Pass the f*****g puck, Blake!” Coach screamed again. “Teamwork!”
I rolled my eyes and passed it to a teammate, but an opponent snatched the puck mid-pass. Before we could stop them, they scored.
They cheered.
I paused, trying to catch my breath as I stared at the scoreboard. We were tied, and it was almost the end of the game. I had to bring that trophy home.
The game started again.
The final round was messy. We were both struggling to hold the lead.
I was moving the puck closer to their net when one of their players slammed into me from the side.
I hit the ice and lost the puck.
Luckily, Roman was there to snatch it back.
I caught myself and immediately went after him.
“Blake!” Coach shouted.
I didn't need to look at him to know what he wanted.
I got the puck and pushed forward. We just needed one more point and the win was ours.
Another player got in front of me. I ducked to the side, lifted my stick, and shot.
The puck went straight into the net.
The whistle blew.
For a second, I just stood there, staring at the crowd shouting and jumping.
I couldn't believe we'd won.
“We won!”
I screamed as my teammates rushed toward me.
We'd been training for ages. I knew we were good, but beating these guys felt like a dream I never thought would come true.
We rushed into the locker room, cheering and jumping. Some of them bumped shoulders. Some pulled each other into tight hugs.
It was a huge win for the team.
A few minutes later, Coach walked into the locker room.
“Okay,” he shouted over the noise. “I got a date with that fine reporter out there.”
Everyone quieted down.
He moved his eyes around the room. “I am proud of every single one of you.”
Everyone cheered again.
“You played well today,” he continued. “You trusted each other. You fought for every puck. You kept pushing even when you were tired.”
He looked at me.
“And some people need to remember that passing the puck is part of hockey.”
Everyone burst into laughter.
I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, Coach.”
He shook his head, laughing. “But seriously,” he said. “You earned this win. You've worked hard for it.”
“And if we keep this up, we might actually qualify for the big game, right?” Roman said.
Coach nodded. “Yeah. But tonight, you party. You earned it.”
The room erupted in cheers again.
“Get drunk tonight!” he shouted. “But don't get too drunk to do anything stupid.”
“We'll try, Coach,” Roman grinned.
That was an obvious lie.
As soon as Coach stepped out, Roman turned to us. “Okay, boys,” he said. “Let's hit the showers and go get drunk!”
Everyone shouted and started pulling off their clothes.
I moved slowly to my locker and started pulling off my shirt.
Roman walked up to me. “Hey, Blake,” he called.
“Yeah,” I answered without turning to him.
“Nice game,” he said.
I turned to him and nodded. “Nice game.”
“The girls will be hunting for you at the party,” he said, shrugging. “You're kind of a legend already.”
“I'm sorry, but I think I'll pass,” I said, politely.
His expression flickered between disappointment and suspicion. “C'mon, dude,” he laughed, slapping my shoulder. “You've earned it. We've earned it.”
I hesitated. Then I shook my head. “I can't promise anything yet.”
His eyes ran over me for a second too long.
I swallowed hard and wrapped an arm around my chest.
“Someday, I'm going to uncover your secret,” he whispered, with a wink.
“Someday,” I laughed, awkwardly, as he walked away.
As soon as he left, my smile turned into a frown.
Secret?
It landed like a bomb.
Their legendary Blake wasn't just a nice, innocent, introverted guy.
Blake was a girl.