She's sick.
He's heartbroken.
They put a ring on it.
The line between deals and promises is beginning to blur.
*
What starts out as a deal between two friends, becomes more than either of them could've ever have imagined. Between the fake kisses t...
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"Here's McHugh cycling, around the boards. He shoots! Oh, save by Henderson!" Carlos Sapana, the sportscaster, animates as he talks into his microphone headset.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. I lightly chew on my mouthguard as I watch my guys pass the puck around.
"Shit, Hancock, shoot it." Greyson mumbles under his breath.
I place my guard back in its place as I stand up, grabbing my stick.
Chris and I jump on the board before Greyson joins, preparing for our shift change.
The second Hancock's feet lift off the ice, I jump down and skate towards the play.
Chris gains possession of the puck as we match strides.
"Henry!" He yells as he passes it to me. The puck glides across the ice before it hits my puck. I skate with it with ease before sending it back to Chris. Chris send sit to Greyson who sends it back to me.
The puck grazes my stick before hitting the wall. "Shit." I mutter underneath my breath before getting pinned up against the wall to fight for it.
I go to move my stick further down when it doesn't budge. I turn my head to find Steve Bridgers holding onto it. "Motherfucker."
"How's that new wife treating ya? I bet she's cheating, too." I dig my skates further into the ground as we battle for the puck. Where the hell is the ref? He pulls my stick back as he says, "If she's not cheating on you now. She will be with me.", and I jab my elbow into his side.
Gloves go flying, then fists follow. One minute I'm dodging a punch, the next I'm throwing it.
Bridgers spits blood onto the ice. "I bet that bitch would look real pretty hanging from my-"
I lunge forward and before I can get another punch in, the ref yells, "Hey, that's enough!", as he pulls us away from each other.
"Glad to see you've got some balls now, Henry." Bridgers snickers and I just barely glide forward before Chris steps in front of me.
"Chill, man. You got a few hits in, don't make it worse."
It takes the rest of the period before my jaw unclenches. It's the goddamn playoffs, the ref should've called the stick grabbing the second it happened. We don't have time for this shit. We're here to win.
"Henry!" Coach yells as he burst through the locker room door. I freeze, water bottle in midair, eyes wide. He stops in front of me and I stand up. "I don't know what the hell happened out there..." He points his finger at me. "But that's how you take care of a fucking cheater, boys!"
The whole locker room cheers and I grin. Coach gives us a speech before Greyson takes over.
I lean against Chris, listening to Greyson hype everyone up. "What'd we come here to do? We came here to win. So, we're go out there, and do just that. Who's gonna win?"
