Chapter 1
1018 Words
Chapter 1
Eli's pov
I've never been to a place this big before, The Northfield Athletic centre smells like ice and old money. The woods were neatly polished, the equipment looked very new, along with that faint chemical tang from the rink.
My duffle bag felt cheap against my shoulders, while the admission letter neatly folded in my pockets felt cheaper as I stared at the rink.
"Eli." My sister Mira nudged me, her eyes widening, she was equally in awe at the spectacle.
"Do you see this?" She leaned in and whispered. I didn't respond, I was too immersed in the number of hockey players filing out now.
"Eli, are you okay?" Mira asked with concern as she turned fully to face me.
I shut my eyes tight and shook my head slightly before turning to meet her gaze, "Yeah, yeah." I lied, my hands were already sweating, "it's just, I've never seen this much space before."
Just then, the last member of the team came out. I suck up the urge to react when I saw him. Even if Mira hadn't pointed to him on our drive here, I'd know who Noah is.
He's the guy on every poster in the hallway. Northfield's best hockey player and captain. The kid whose dad owns half the dealership in the state. Tall with broad shoulders and a dark hair that looked damp from practice. The stride he takes into the hockey area shows that he knows who he is.
With a smirk on his face that signals to me that he knows it all, his gaze shifts.
My stomach dropped when I noticed that he's staring.
Great! Just the first day of school and I've already pissed off the popular kid.
"Welcome to Northfield." Noah says with so much charisma as he walks over before Coach can introduce us.
"You're the transfer. Eli right?" He says, announcing to every one who cared to listen.
I try to put on a facade of confidence, "Yeah." I said and gripped my bag tighter.
"You play defense?" He asked.
"Yeah, Scholarship kid, gotta play to keep it."
The smirk on his face shifts just a little, like he's filed that way, "We'll see about that."
Practice starts ten minutes later, the coach comes over and hands over hockey stick and gear before he blows the whistle then points at me. "Rookie, you're with the first line. Let's see what you've got."
My heart hammers loudly in my chest as I step forward, I haven't played on smooth ice in years, back home, we played on a cracked outdoor rink and borrowed the gear we used. But here, everything feels so smooth and fast.
Noah’s across from me on the first drill. At first, I thought I was imagining it— the way his shoulder clips mine while he skates past, and the way his stick taps my ankle a second too long.
Things a ref wouldn't call, but his actions are deliberate. Noah is testing me and might be trying to rattle me.
It almost works, because for more than a moment, all I think about is the way his eyes cut to me every time I take a breath. Just then, I miss a pass.
"Stupid!" I berate myself internally, clenching my teeth almost in frustration.
I can't let Noah get to me. I reset and keep my head down, doubling my focus on the puck.
For the next round, I cut him off clean, I steal the puck when I get the chance and score. I win!
The rink goes quiet for a half a second, then Noah's eyes narrow at me. Nobody beats Noah, no one had expected me to beat Northfield's best player, not in the drills and not in front of the team.
I returned his gaze with a smirk, just then, his posture changed. He looks like he's no longer around. His face turns more serious as he begins skating harder and faster, reading me before I can even move.
It’s like watching someone flip a switch. He scores twice in a row, and both times it’s so clean that I don’t even see it coming.
He’s good in a way that scares me. I am barely able to keep up with him. My legs were burning and my lungs were burning even hotter, but I’m not letting him have it easy anymore.
“Not bad, scholarship kid,” Noah muttered as we circled for the next faceoff. His voice was right by my ear, low enough that only I hear could hear it.
Then he leaned into me, taking me by surprise, “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll give you something to think about off the ice too.”
Heat flooded my face as he said that, I didn't know what to say, so I shook my head and focused back on the game.
Just before I could get the chance to shove him off, he was already moving.
One second I was upright, the next my back hits the boards hard enough to knock the air out of me. Noah swung his forearm across my chest, pinning me hard, his face is inches from mine, breathing hard down my face with his pupils blown wide.
“You’re not like the others,” he said, inching closer as he did.
“Get off me,” I manage to say but my voice came out shaky.
"Really?" There was sarcasm in his tone as he inched closer, pressing his body against mine, until his crotch was rubbing against mine.
And is he....hard?! My breath hitched in my throat as I hold his gaze.
Coach’s whistle cut through the rink.
“Alright, break it up!”
Noah stepped back like nothing happened, skating away with that same infuriating smirk. My brain goes short circuit. Did i just feel his hardness against me?
I stay against the boards for a second longer, trying to get my breathing un
der control. I shake the thought out of my head. I must have been imagining it.
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