Chapter4
1282 Words
Jaxon's POV
The halls are empty as I stand by my locker, resting my head against the cool metal.
It's been a rough couple of days, but I'm trying so hard to take things one step at a time so I don't break.
I still haven't been able to cry again since that day. I don't think my mind has been fully able to catch up with the reality of things yet.
It's baffling just how fast things can change in the blink of an eye. One moment, you're about to score a win for the biggest hockey game of the season, one that sets you on the course for a college scholarship.
And the other, you're seeing the lifeless body of your parents.
The pain of seeing them was so unbearable, like thousands of needles piercing my whole heart and soul.
By the time I even got to the hospital, they were already declared dead. DOA, they called it. The crash was fatal.
I didn't even know when I had slumped to the floor in tears. Until my aunt had come to comfort me.
“I’m so sorry, Jaxon. This is so terrible,” she whispered, her own hot tears dropping on my neck as she held me.
It didn't matter how many sympathies I got, nothing could soothe the pain. Not drinks. Not girls. Nothing.
The only thing that came even remotely close to making me feel something was the moment my fists met the face of that scumbag that got me expelled.
“Aw, he's sad mommy and daddy are gone.” That sentence was enough to make me lose all reasoning. Getting a scholarship didn't matter anymore by then, it was already hanging in the balance with my earlier suspension.
I broke the bastard's face, and I felt good about it. I really did.
“Hey Jaxon!”
The sound of my name pulls me out of my reverie. I turn around to see who's interrupting my moment of peace, only to end up with a fist crushing my cheekbone so hard my face snaps to the side.
I lean against the lockers for support. Caleb stands in front of me, breathing hard enough to put a bull to shame.
I wipe off the warmth trickling down my nose with my sleeve. It comes off red.
The hall now has a couple of people in it, and they all have the same look of shock on their faces.
“I heard about the stunt you pulled with my sister, you bastard,” he says, pressing a finger to my chest. “How dare you touch her?”
I roll my eyes and slap his hand away. “If you're so obsessed with her, then you should have been there when she twisted her ankle.”
“You think I don't know what you're up to? You may have gotten my dad fooled, but not me. I don't want you anywhere close to my sister again.”
Her innocent, pretty face flashes through my mind. The way her eyes were wide when I took her to the nurse’s office. The way her voice was so soft when she told me “thank you”.
I look straight at Caleb, the dots clicked instantly. She was definitely his weak spot.
I smirked. “Hmm. I don't know…she wasn't complaining when I was.”
When rage fills his eyes my belly does a little flip of triumph. He's so easy to ragebait.
He lunges for me again, but this time two of his friends grab him by the arms and hold him back. He struggles, but they don't relent.
“What are you two doing? In my office, now!”
Everything freezes. Coach Dalton stands a few feet away from us. Pointing to his office with a stern look on his face.
—
“What's wrong with the both of you?” Coach Dalton says, frowning at both of us.
Caleb grumbles something and turns away like a petulant child.
I sigh and lean back in my chair. “He's the one picking fights with me all the time.”
“You're the one touching my sister!—”
Coach Dalton’s eyebrows raise in shock. “What?”
“She twisted her ankle during practice and had no one to help her!” I say, looking between father and son. I hate being put on the spot like this.
“So we should be thankful?” says Caleb, eyes narrowed and full of hatred.
I roll my eyes. “Yes!”
“Enough!” Coach Dalton breaks through our rising argument. “Both of you.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, looking so fed up with everything. “Look. I'm not going to say this again. Both of you better fix up your acts, or I swear I'll kick you both off the team.”
My mouth drops open. That's the only thing that matters to me in this shithole. I slump back in my chair, defeated. “Fine.”
Caleb mumbles something that sounds similar. “Can I leave now?”
“Yes. Both of you. In case you've forgotten it's time for practice,” Coach says.
All of us get up to leave his office, but Caleb storms out quicker than both of us, leaving just Coach and I.
A thought comes to my mind as we walk towards the locker room. It's a risk, but one I'm willing to take.
Just as we cross the entrance of the locker room, I turn to him. “Coach Dalton, the last game we had went well, didn't it?”
He looks at me strangely, but nods. “Yes.”
“Good. I believe you know why that was.”
“Jaxon…”
The other hockey players in the room have gone quiet like they always do when I'm around.
“Coach, I deserve to be the starting centre. It's only fair, seeing as I practically filled in for Caleb when he got a muscle strain and couldn't play.”
Everyone here keeps looking at me like I cheated my way into the team, and this is my chance to drill it into their heads that whether they like it or not, I'm the Ice King for a reason.
The locker room explodes into murmurs. Surprisingly, some people seem to agree with me.
“He was a f*****g beast in Ice Hawks, if we have him starting our plays, we'll be unstoppable in this championship,” someone says to his friend.
The statement buffs my confidence.
“Dad, you can't do that. I've been starting centre for years and it's worked just fine for our team,” Caleb says, actually looking worried for the first time since I actually joined the team.”
Good, he should be scared. Time to turn up the heat.
“Look, if you test me, Coach, and I'm not good enough for your team, I'll never mention anything like this again. Heck, I'll take the worst position. But I'm asking you to just give me this one chance to prove I belong here.”
Coach looks very torn initially, but I pinpoint the exact moment my words take root in his mind. The roaring of the team continues, their divided thoughts obvious.
With one apologetic glance at his son, he gives a sigh of acceptance. “Alright, Jaxon. We'll have a skill test to decide who the better player is.”
I turn to look at Caleb, whose face is stiff with equal part shock and rage.
I smirk as he glares at me.
It's time for the Ice King to take over.
- Writer
