Chapter 2:Let's Play Hockey
1219 Words
Skye's POV
The drive to Northern Crest University took forever, but I spent most of it leaning my head against the truck window, watching the highway blur by. It was just me and Dad in the truck as he was behind the wheel, one hand on the steering wheel like always.
“You sure you don’t want to come to my alma mater?” Dad asked for the third time. “Team’s solid.”
I muttered under my breath, “You know why, Dad.”
He softly laughed. “Still running from the family name, huh?”
Running from it? More like I was tired of carrying it. Everywhere I’d ever played, people knew exactly who I was, Brooks. The daughter of Hall of Fame Thomas Brooks and sister to Kevin Brooks, the one in the NHL.
If I score a goal, I often hear, “Of course she did, look at her bloodline.” Miss one? “Guess the Brooks magic skipped a generation.” I was done being compared. I needed somewhere no one knew my last name. That open tryout at a random rink near Northern Crest University popped up at the right time. PR stunt or not, I took my shot.
After a long stretch of silence, dad glanced at me through the mirror, “What about schooling with one of 'the boys?' They would’ve taken you under their wing. Looked out for you.”
I rolled my eyes and muttered, “I don’t want that. Besides, none of their schools accept female players anyway.”
“Yeah, but they could’ve vouched for you. Put in a good word.”
Something squeezed tight in my chest. The idea of needing anyone to vouch for me, to put in a word so I could play the game I loved… it made me feel sick. I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear, “I don’t want that, either.”
Dad stayed quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Your call, kid. But it won’t be easy.”
“I know.”
We pulled up to campus and my jaw dropped a little. Northern Crest University was huge. There were big buildings, fancy athletic facilities everywhere, an ice rink that looked way better than anything back home.
Dad parked near the arena and I grabbed my duffel before he could help.
Dad started getting out too.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Helping you with your stuff? What, you think I'm just dropping you and leaving?”
“No. No following me. I don’t want anyone knowing I’m related to the famous Brooks hockey family.”
Dad just sighed, but I could tell he got it. “You sure about the suitcase?”
“Yes. I can handle it. I need to prove I belong here on my own. Make my own damn legacy.”
He looked at me for a moment longer before he finally nodded. “Your mom would’ve loved to be here, but she’s traveling for work. And K… well, his wife just had a baby girl yesterday, so he’s stuck in the hospital.”
I smiled a little despite everything. “I understand dad. Tell them I said congrats.”
Dad pulled me in for a hug and said, “Text if you need anything. And Skye… they weren’t expecting a girl to actually make the cut at that tryout. Just keep your head up. I'm proud of you.”
I nodded, throat tight, then watched him drive off.
I dragged my duffel and suitcase toward the arena as I was told to stop by before entering the main campus. A coach met me at the door, Coach Harlan. He shook my hand firmly and was studying me like he still couldn’t believe it.
“Skye Brooks, right? I was at the tryout. Gotta say… I really wasn’t expecting what I saw out there. Welcome to Northern Crest University.”
“Thanks, Coach.”
“No room ready yet, so drop your big bag at the office for now. Bring your hockey gear, the team’s on the ice. Let’s go say hi.”
My stomach flipped as I followed him inside and dropped my suitcase, then carried just my practice bag. Part of me was excited, while most of me was scared shitless.
What kind of welcome was I about to get?
We stepped into the rink area and the coach blew his whistle sharp. “Guys! Gather up!”
The team came barreling off the ice, with their skates scraping the ice and helmets coming off. Damn. Most of them were well over six feet, broad and built.
They looked at me in my jersey, confused.
One of them grinned. “Coach, you bringing us a new puck bunny or what?”
I rolled my eyes. “Great. Every girl in a hockey jersey is automatically a bunny now?”
Before anyone could say more, one guy who’d been skating at the far end slowed down and glided over.
He pulled off his helmet, shaking out dark, messy hair that fell just right across his forehead. Sharp emerald green eyes locked on us, intense and cold. He was tall, easily six-four with broad shoulders that stretched his practice jersey tight across a powerful chest. Sweat glistened on his sharp jawline and the column of his neck. He had the kind of face that hit you right in the gut. It was strong, arrogant and stupidly handsome.
The big white C on his jersey said everything. He was Captain.
He tilted his head slightly, looking between me and Coach without saying a word, like he was already sizing up a problem.
The coach cleared his throat. “Listen up. I’d like to introduce you to your new teammate. Skye Brooks.”
The rink went dead quiet for half a second, then exploded.
“What the f**k?”
“No way.”
“You serious, Coach?”
The captain raised one dark eyebrow, voice low and edged with disbelief. “You must be joking.”
Coach shook his head. “Dead serious. She earned the spot at the tryout. Skye, this is the team.”
I swallowed and forced a small smile. “Hi, everyone.”
There was more muttering as a couple of guys laughed like it was a prank. The captain stared at me hard, his emerald eyes narrowing, and his jaw was tight. Then he jerked his head at Coach. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
They stepped aside. I couldn’t hear everything, but the captain looked pissed as he was gesturing sharply, and his voice was sharp while Coach stayed calm, explaining. After a minute they came back.
The captain looked me up and down slowly, those green eyes cutting right through me. “So you’re supposed to play hockey with us.”
“Yeah,” I said, chin up, meeting his stare. “I am.”
He stared a beat longer, something dark and frustrated flashing across his face. Then he shrugged like it didn’t matter, but his whole body stayed tense.
“Fine.” His voice was flat and dangerous, sending a chill down my spine. “Get on the ice. Let’s play hockey.”
- Writer
