Hockey Book

Chapter 1: The Goon

Reece

The third period is about to start, and my heart is beating out of my chest. Even though it's only a preseason game, I'm still eager for a win. But I'll leave that part up to Wheels, our forward.

My job is simple– keep the puck away from the net. I kiss my stick to the ice and lean over, preparing to push through to a win with gritted teeth.

Then, the ref drops the puck, and our team wins the face-off. The puck shoots off the boards only to be scooped up by the other team's D-man. But with a quick flash of silver and white, I take a relieved breath because there goes Wheels shooting through their defensive line and stealing the puck from right under their noses.

He takes it up and shoots it down the boards and behind the opposing team's net to Anderson. Anderson receives the pass only barely and gets cornered by their defensemen. I blink and he's out of the corner and slamming into one of their D-man... Hard.

Not a second passes and the helmets come off as Anderson starts throwing punches. I shoot off toward the fight, now growing as his teammates attempt to split them up, and throw my own hands in there. I'm ripping at my own teammate's jersey, but somehow someone on the other team thinks I'm trying to fight them and throws a fist at my face. My helmet flies off as he throws another, and I rear back and push him away.

The stands are packed with angry parents yelling for the refs to get us under control and college kids cheering us on. When the refs finally do get the fight under control, somehow I end up thrown into the penalty box. At least Anderson is in here with me, but now our team has two minutes without us. In those two minutes, the other team gets another goal and now we're down. Even with Wheels' impeccable speed, we don't pull out a win.

When the game is over, Coach Sullivan drags me and Anderson by our jersey collars and throws us in the locker room. I barely notice the rest of the team slowly flooding in after us as Coach yells the most horrendous combinations of obscenities at us.

"-- and you two motherfuckers will not be starting next Saturday! I don't care if it's preseason or not, you should take these games as serious as the championship! And you better get ready for the worst week of training you've ever had!" He storms off without another word and leaves us standing in the middle of our own pissed off teammates.

Hell, I'm just as pissed as the rest of them. Every season it's the same. I hope and pray that fucking Dylan Anderson gets dumped onto some other unlucky jackasses, but I never get that lucky. Every team has one, a goon. They're most often the dumbest motherfuckers on the planet with nothing but rocks for brains and steel biceps. This one is no different, except he comes with blonde hair and baby blues eyes that somehow drop sorority girls to their bony knees.

I storm over to my unofficial corner of the locker room where Chris is already stripping off his pads. "This is such bullshit." I bark as I rip off my own pads.

Chris cocks his head and raises his eyebrows in that it-is-what-it-is expression as he bends down to dig in his bag. "Maybe stay out of it every once in a while." He advises unhelpfully.

I throw my head back. "Come on, like that's an option. I'm the only one who comes even close to Dylan's size. I'm the only one that can do anything about it and you know it. Besides, the last time I didn't get involved the guy was suspended. Do you really want one of our forwards suspended at the start of the season? Huh, Captain?"

"Take it easy, Reece, I'm just saying you bring it on yourself. Come on, really, what d'you think would happen if you weren't on the ice to stop him?"

I huff. "Did I not just tell you what would happen?"

"Don't be an ass." He picks up his bag once he finishes changing back into his nice clothes. "Look, maybe I can talk some sense into Coach. I mean he's not an idiot, we all know what happened. Maybe I can try to convince him to let you start next weekend."

"Fuck yes. This is why I love you, baby."

He rolls his eyes. "Watch your mouth." He teases with a scolding finger pointed at me. "You wouldn't let Molly catch you spitting such filth, would you?"

"No, but I don't see her. Do you?"

He laughs, his blue eyes shimmering. "Hurry up, asshole. I'm not waiting around forever."

I finish changing back into my own nice clothes and we pull our huge hockey bags over our shoulders and make our way to the parking lot.

"You comin' over tomorrow after practice?" I ask as we push the doors to the ice rink open and walk outside into the crisp night air.

"Nah, I got the girlfriend tomorrow night."

"That's still going on?"

"Come on, Reece, don't be an asshole." He scolds.

"No, I'm serious. It must be a month now, right? I'm impressed."

He sighs and unlocks his truck. I unlock my own black Challenger and we throw our bags in our vehicles and meet each other back in the middle.

"You should get one, Reece. They're great." He says with a pat on my shoulder.

"You mean they can be great. Not that they are. I had one, remember?" I don't hear whatever snob response he gives because my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and find Molly's silly face looking back at me as her contact fills my screen. I hold up a finger to Chris who nods understandingly and answer it.

"Hey, I'm at Lizzy's house and she gave me a little teeny drink." She snorts.

I can hear her friends giggling in the background and groan. "I'll come get you."

"Molly?" Chris questions with a knowing look when I hang up.

I nod and sigh. "I gotta go pick her up."

"Sisters, man."

I push him away playfully. "What do you know?"

He flashes me a humorous smile before turning toward his truck. "See ya." he throws back at me with a lazy wave over his shoulder.

"Yeah, see ya."