For the Love of Skating

Chapter Two

Granger

Hockey practice was more brutal than usual today. Sweat, blood, and my useless team skating around like chickens with their heads cut off. I keep my gaze on the ground, my teeth grinding. The locker room is so completely silent, you could probably hear a penny drop. My f****d-up teammates decide to keep their mouths shut, which is for the best. We used to skate like we were one, linked together with the sole purpose of winning and being the best goddamned team in the league. That was months ago, and everything has changed since then. It sucks to get yelled at by the coach for hogging the puck the whole time today, which wasn’t right on my part, but for the life of me, I just can’t trust these assholes.

“She’s cheating on you. Apparently, she has been for some time now. I don’t play into the gossip s**t, so that’s why I just heard about it. She’s been playing you, man, right from the beginning,” Beast tells me, while passing me a beer as I sit frozen on my couch, feeling like I just got hit by a freight train.

“I was going to break up with her a month ago, but the news of the baby stopped me from ending it with her… Who the f**k is she cheating on me with?” I almost snap the neck of my beer bottle when he tells me.

Fucking Jeff. f**k my teammate.

It’s been almost two months, and I’m still playing like s**t on the ice, letting rage and hurt rule my life.

I did have a different unpleasant distraction during this practice. I kept thinking about her, the girl with the wild pink hair and piercing blue eyes. I’ve never seen someone move so gracefully and with passion. She moved with the music, but it was like she owned the ice, and time slowed down as I watched her glide across the ice like an angel. She was captivating and radiated elegance with just her body language. I couldn’t look away, even when I tried.

I have no idea where the hell those thoughts came from. Am I turning into a f*****g poet? A snort escapes my mouth before I can cover it.

Unwrapping his ankle bindings next to me on the bench, Joey throws a questionable look at me. I curl my lip at him, basically telling him to piss off in one single glance. He raises his hands up and backs away.

“Sorry, bro,” he says in a rush, glancing around nervously, like I’m about to sock him in the face or something.

I’m mad at everyone who basically screwed me over, but I can control my f*****g anger.

He eventually turns his back to me and pretends to find something that holds his interest in his locker next to mine. I don’t bother responding; I never do anymore. I play the part of team captain by showing my face and charming smile at the parties we throw every Saturday, but when no one is looking, I isolate myself. ‘Trust no one’ is my new motto.

My teammates knew about Jeff’s betrayal and decided to keep it a secret from me. I became the campus laughingstock—a fool who didn’t even know his girlfriend at the time was sleeping with one of his own teammates. That lazy piece of s**t has always been jealous of me, wanting everything I have and doing whatever it takes to get it. Even if that means sleeping with my girlfriend behind my back.

I shake that s**t off my shoulders; I have more pressing matters to attend to. First, I need to be the best on the ice to get my ass off this team and on to bigger and better things. Second, the new semester starts today. I’m determined to get drafted by the end of the season. But I need to focus on my studies, just in case plan A fails.

I climb to my feet, stretching with a grunt, and pull my hoodie on while hightailing it out of here before our coach decides to pull me into his office to talk about nonsense, like how I’m supposed to set an example for my team. f**k that s**t. I stomp my way to the door. Everyone’s either avoiding eye contact or running into the steaming showers to get away from my wrath. Just as my hand grips the door handle, the coach’s booming voice comes from his office.

“Granger! Get your ass in my office now!”

I slump my head against the door, giving it one solid bang before turning around. Striding into the coach’s office, I notice Jeff smirk as he comes out of the shower from the corner of my eye. Inside his domain, Coach Miller is reclining in his desk chair with his feet crossed on the desk and fingers interlaced over his pudgy belly. Coach's receding hairline, glasses, stunted height, and loud mouth seem stereotypical for a head coach, but he has a good heart, even when he makes us repeat drills on and off the ice for hours until I feel like my legs might fall off.

“Have a seat, son,” he says, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Planting my ass on the excessively expensive leather seat, I school my expression and make sure I bury any emotions tumbling through my head. I wait in silence for him to start his lecture about teamwork once again. He sighs as he looks up at the dimly lit ceiling, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. It sounds like he says ‘bullheaded,’ but I could be wrong.

“I’m not going to downplay this with you. Your game has been s**t for weeks. My grandma could score more goals than you at this point. You’re slipping, son. You’re supposed to lead this team to glory at the nationals. As team captain, your job is to make sure your players are flocking to you, not trying to find an exit when you charge at them. Either you find a way to make this work and build your way back to the team, or you’re out. No scout will look twice at you when you're playing like this,” he says, shaking his head in disappointment.

I clench my jaw so tight that it makes a cracking noise as I rub my hands on my jeans to release the tension spreading through me. f**k me. I need this more than anything—to be handpicked by a scout and to make my own living, by myself. To not live off my rich parents’ money. I need to prove to everyone that I can do this.

I see no remorse on the coach's face. He’s here to build this university the best damned hockey team anyone has ever seen, so I don’t blame him for giving me this ultimatum. Blowing out a gust of air through my puffed-up cheeks, I give him a single nod before observing the trophies gleaming in the display case behind him, mainly to avoid his ever-so-watchful gaze.

“Yeah, Coach. I’ll get right on that. They may be my team, but they aren’t my brothers,” I grind out, feeling my face turn an angry red.

Fucking hell, will I ever be able to move past this?

“Then you’d better start winning your brothers back. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you fail this team.” He points his index finger at me, leaning over his desk.

“You’re absolutely f*****g right, Coach. But they f*****g betrayed me, failed me. How can I move on after they broke my trust? Earning trust goes both ways, but I can’t even pass them the puck because in my head, I’m thinking they can’t be trusted to end the game with us on the winning side. I’m their f*****g captain, for God’s sakes, and yet my own team lied to my face.” I throw my hands in the air, then run my fingers through my hair in frustration.

“It’s simple. You need to move on from it. If you’re going to survive this team, then you need to start from scratch. Have you talked to anyone about the baby? It’s not good to keep all that anger pent up, son. You need a new start,” he says, as if it’s that simple, and I wish it was.

I let out a deep sigh, and the seat cracks under my shifting weight.

“Yeah, I’ve talked to Beast. I’m working through it, and no, I don’t want to f*****g talk about it. Someone should have told me,” I grind out between clenched teeth, then take deep breaths to cool my anger before Coach really does kick me off the team.

“What were they supposed to do? Write a f*****g column in Cosmo? It’s none of their damn business. It was between you and another team player, so fix it,” he demands, wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

“What the hell do you want me to do? What would you do? Do you want me to hold their hands on the ice or make them work for my trust again? I’ll try, Coach, because I want our team to win and have the best shot. That fucker though, he doesn’t deserve s**t,” I grunt, crossing my arms as my leg jiggles from feeling cooped up.

“You want a shot at the NHL, kid? The pros aren’t going to tolerate a defeatist attitude. Keep trying, or you’ll end up at the bottom.” He sighs and waves for me to leave with his hand, as if he can’t even look at me.

Rising, I head to his closed office door, wanting to get the hell out of here and hit the gym. I need to work off this pent-up energy, since practice sure as hell didn’t cut it. As I swing open the door, Coach has one more thing to say to me, and I’m sure the whole locker room hears.

“You’re going places, so don’t let one beautiful, crazy woman stop you from moving forward after your dreams. There are still good people out there who will have your back, Granger. Don’t forget that. Get your head out of your ass! We have games to win,” he grunts, dismissing me.

I don’t bother turning around; I keep my sights on the one person who was supposed to have my back, to be my brother on this team. Jeff holds my stare before quickly looking away, the coward. I turn my head to the left so only the coach can hear me.

“It wasn’t the secret affair that affected me so much. It’s the lies that followed, Coach. I can’t forget that, but I’ll try to play nice for the sake of the team and myself,” I promise, with my heart pounding at the thought.

And with that, I stride back to the door that leads into the rink, where my exit awaits. The sound of the door slamming behind me is very satisfying… Freedom at last.

I spoke too soon, as I hear heavy footsteps marching right behind me. Only one person can make that much noise while simply walking: Henry, also known as “Beast.” I turn my head towards him as I continue walking; I really just want to get out of this building. Seeing my duffle bag in his hand, which I clearly forgot on the bench in the locker room, I give him a subtle nod of thanks. He only grunts in acknowledgment of my gratitude, the ass. He walks by, dropping my bag on the ground, and his big feet keep stomping away.

Suddenly, turning around with amazing speed for his size, he blocks the exit with his hands on his waist and feet apart. I roll my eyes as I mentally chant ‘f**k shit.’ I'm not doing this right now. My blood is still heated from practice.

Beast has been my friend, more like a brother, since freshman year. We made plans to get the hell out of here and go pro together one day. The f*****g sooner, the better. Scouts are watching our every move right now, so we need to pick up our game and get this team together. This fucker has had my back from the very beginning, no questions asked; he just stands behind me like a surly giant. I haven’t talked to him since the night I spilled my guts about Victoria cheating, and I can’t even look him in the eye without feeling like a fool.

That night I learned two things. Never trust anyone, even those closest to you, and never f*****g fall in love. You only get stomped on, and the edges of your heart close off after breaking into a million pieces all over the damn ground. I thought I might have loved her, or at least could’ve seen myself loving her, but I was blind, and she sank her claws into me. It was too late to break up with her when she dropped the baby news on me, but f**k, I was going to step up no matter what and be there. It wasn’t even the cheating that crushed my heart; it was her other lies. I shut that thought down fast. Nope, not going there. I glance away from Beast’s all too knowing, sharp brown gaze, and peer at the empty rink.

I can still picture her here. That bright, cotton candy-colored hair swirling freely around her face, obscuring her incredibly clear blue eyes with an expression of deep sorrow hidden away past the surface. Speaking of eyes, my own narrow as my thoughts betray me. So what if she was the most beautiful, graceful, and witty woman I’ve ever met? She spells trouble, and I want nothing to do with a woman who will plunge her fist through my chest, rip my beating heart out, and feast upon it as if it’s breakfast. Hard no for me.

Beast grunts under his breath and mumbles something that sounds like, “Get your head out of your ass.” I can’t be too sure what’s spilling out of his mouth, since half the time he sounds like an angry bear. I don’t bother saying anything as I push through the stadium double doors leading outside into the bitter cold.

The thought suddenly crosses my mind to get out of Dodge and apply to other schools, but I can’t leave Boston. I worked my ass off trying out for the team, and for once, my family let me decide where I wanted to go to college. I don’t even want to think about starting back on the bottom again. Otherwise, I would’ve left a long time ago. Besides, who doesn’t love the crisp Boston air? The Bruins is my dream team to skate for, so I’m not going anywhere.

I toss my hockey bag over my shoulder, and its weight slows my fast pace, just another reminder of how practice went today. Beast walks past me like a stampede of angry bulls before swinging around and planting himself in front of my path once again. I blow out an irritated breath and widen my stance with my arms crossed over my chest, my body language saying, ‘Back the f**k off or be prepared for a beating.’ He matches my scowl until he throws his hands up in the air with an ‘I give up’ look thrown my way.

“You need to go out, drink a little or a lot until you pass out. f**k her memory out of your system,” he grumbles out, stroking his beard with a faraway look in his eyes, but I’m already shaking my head in denial.

Can’t a man just play hockey and be left alone? I’d happily die a single, old man, just so I don’t make myself look like an i***t again. There’s this deep part of myself that’s always angry, and the feeling wells up until it wants to grab ahold of me and release itself. I’ve been stabbed in the back too many times. My family thinks hockey is all a dream, that I’ll get over it one day to join the family business at the law firm. I don’t even think my parents have been to any of my games, and they never plan on going. Talk about f*****g support. Skating on the ice is all I have; it’s who I am. Maybe I do need a f*****g drink, because I can feel my blood boiling at the thought of my father and mother, plus the reminder of Victoria and all that I’ve lost in the back of my mind.

“I don’t know, man. We need to fix the team, plus I have to study for that quiz on Monday. Economics is frying my brain with all the bullshit, and it hasn’t even started yet.” I groan at the thought of more schoolwork.

I’m going to fall behind.

Beast raises an eyebrow, and his grizzly face scrunches up at my self-pity party. He can hear the excuses coming out of my mouth. Running a hand down my face in frustration, I think maybe a drink wouldn’t be so bad. I could lose myself in oblivion for a while. It’s just one day. I watch as the fucker’s bearded face starts to spread into a smug smile as he sees me change my mind.

“Party at the frat house Saturday. You’ll be there, even if I have to drag your sorry ass there. No more, bro. Get drunk and eat some p***y. Then your game will come back, both on the ice and off. I have your back, brother,” he says with a fist bump before moving past me.

He pounds on my back and heads in the opposite direction towards the college dorms. I make my way to my apartment, a few blocks away. I have a little time to work out some more and get ready before class starts. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see a flash of pink hair dart into the popular coffee shop on campus across the street. Great, now I’m seeing her even when she’s not there. I mentally slap myself as I walk faster to escape my own thoughts. This weekend might actually help. It better, or I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.