“That’s a feeling shared by the entire team,” I say, as the box is being closed. I tap the glass with my fist, then skate away to prepare for this next face off.
“This is getting grueling,” Roysy says as he hops over the boards to take his place on the ice for the penalty kill. Brandon is back on the bench, and I’ll be joining him shortly. My legs are getting gassed and killing penalties isn’t my specialty.
“Win the face off,” Coach Chris says to me. “Then get off the ice. Reinhold, be ready to switch out with Christianson as soon as the puck leaves the dot.”
As I crouch at the dot, I try not to let the results of the last face off faze me. I’m our team’s best face-off man, and in the top ten in the league. This is one of my specialties, and as long as I’m centered, and I’m not staring at that asshole McDaniel’s face, I should be able to snap this one away cleanly.
The ref stands poised. He looks between me and Horvat, who’s taking the draw for Minnesota. We lock eyes for one quick second. I sneer at him, then take my gaze down to the ice. The second I see the puck, I bring my stick blade down and shoot the puck between my legs and out of the circle.
Horvat looks stunned. He definitely didn’t expect that.
Smiling, I sprint back to the bench and step through the open door as Reinhold leaps over the boards and skates off with abandon.
“How you holding up?” I ask Brandon beside me.
“Fine,” he grumbles.
I pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t let him get in your head. You already said it. He’s a prick.”
“He’s a huge prick.”
“Then we’ll go out there and shut him up together.”
Brandon turns and grins at me. “He’ll hate that.”
Brandon
“You guys really lucked out,” Richie says the next time Ryan and I are on the ice with him waiting for play to begin again.
“How so?” Ryan asks as he lazily loops around Richie.
“If Kennedy hadn’t done what he did to the Broad Wings, the Mules wouldn’t even be here.”
Ryan glares at Richie. “Which Kennedy?” he asks. He lifts his chin slightly and I know he’s itching for Richie’s answer. Probablypredicting how Richie will respond. I already know the answer so I glare at him as well.
He stares right at Ryan. “Junior, of course.”
“Right.” Ryan nods his head. “You would be the kind of guy who watches the way that all went down and picks the side of the asshole homophobic father.”
Richie sets his shoulders, clearly not backing down. “Of course I took the side of Broad Wings legend Connor Kennedy Senior. The dude is why half of us play hockey. Junior fucked up. He had the perfect legacy laid out for him. All he had to do was show up and skate and the universe worshipped him. And now… well, you know…”
“That he likes to suck cock?” Ryan’s eyebrow rises. “Last I checked, he can do that and still show up and skate. Be the best player in the league. One does not affect the other.”
“Is that your personal experience?” Richie asks.
My heart rate picks up in anger and in nervousness. Ryan is wading in dangerous waters right now.
“No.” Ryan shrugs. “I guess I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”
I let out a silent sigh of relief, then skate between the both of them. “Can we focus, please? There’s a face off about to take place.”
“Sure,” Richie says. “It’s not like you’re going to win it.”
“Right,” Ryan says. “Because I haven’t beaten you on eight of the ten draws we’ve taken tonight. Maybe check your stats before you continue to run your mouth.”
“Last I checked, the score is one–nothing in our favor.”
“Are you two done bickering?” one of the refs asks. “Because I’d like to get this game finished tonight.”
