The aggression isn’t even fully about hockey; nah, it’s about Kingmakers Prep boys fucking the local girls, and them fucking some of the Kingmakers girls. It’s fucking stupid, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the hell out of those games. There’s tons of physical contact and shit-talking to go along with it.
“What the hell was that!” Coach starts yelling at Eli on the other end of the ice.
He’s my backup for when I get tossed into the penalty box. Eli isn’t that great, but I don’t give a shit. I’m not here to win. That’s a byproduct.
Caleb skates over to me. He’s the captain of the team. It’s a poor choice. Caleb is a lot like me when it comes to hockey. We’re only here for ourselves, and I might also have a court order, or one they made up to try and scare me and make sure I keep my ass on the ice.
“You see the list?” he asks, taking off his helmet.
“No.”
“Because your brother already showed it to you?” My older brother is the dean here at Kingmakers Prep. This is his second full year as the acting dean. He filled in for the last one during the middle of my sophomore year, thinking it would be beneficial for him and me.
He only wanted us to be closer because our old man kicked the can. I wasn’t even close to him when he died. My life didn’t change that much. I live at the boarding school, and during the summer, I can pick one of our family homes to crash at. There are a handful to choose from.
The truth is, I was more alone when my father was alive. Now my brother is always with the questions and showing up at some of my games. He’ll want to have dinner and hang out. Ourfather’s death changed him. He wants to be a family now. That’s too little, too late.
Bennett and I didn’t grow up in the same home. I didn’t have our grandparents watching over me. I was left all alone with that asshole, better known as my father, and each year, he got worse. Now that I’m older, I don’t miss my old man for even a second.
“What list?” Grant asks. He’s new this year. Coach recruited him. He was a good pickup that doesn’t annoy the shit out of me. Except for his chipper disposition. What the fuck is there to be so happy about all the time?
We all got stashed away here because our parents didn’t want to deal with us. They label it as if they’re giving us a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I jumped at it. Got me the fuck away from my father.
“Fresh meat.” Caleb smirks. He’ll burn through them soon enough.
“What?” Grant asks again. I don’t answer.
“Girls, the new girls.” Caleb rubs his hands together as though they are a tasty meal waiting for him to feast on. The last thing I want to be doing is scoping out girls.
Too much work. And for what? Just to get your dick wet? Sounds like a headache to me. I mean, we kind of live with these people. There would be no escaping them, and there are clingers and puck bunnies everywhere. Worse, I don’t know which of my teammates has already fucked them.
“You’re saying the girls are out there with a list calling me fresh meat,” Grant says with a chuckle. He’s always so laid-back and calm. Even on the ice, he can remain that way while slamming someone’s head into the boards over and over, all while smiling, which pisses the opposing players off more. That motherfucker is hard to provoke. I’d enjoy watching him lose his cool one time. As long as it isn’t on me because I’m sure he’s got some pent-up shit inside of him. It would be a hell of a fight, fun.
Caleb stares blankly at Grant, not understanding the joke. How the fuck does he pass his classes? I swear he barely has two brain cells floating around in that huge head of his. I suppose it doesn’t matter; his daddy is loaded and could get him into any college, which isn’t doing him any favors. Caleb is a terror because the world has been handed to him on a silver platter, and the word “no” doesn’t exist unless it’s coming from his mouth.
Grant stares at him right back. I only linger, wondering if Grant is going to check Caleb on his stupidity. I mean, he’s wide open for it, but Grant only shakes his head and flashes a glance at me. Not sure what he thinks he’s going to get. I keep my expression blank.
“So, new girls,” Grant finally says, breaking the awkward tension that was starting to grow. Caleb is oblivious to this. Unlike me, who just doesn’t give a shit.
“There are a couple in the senior class. Bet I can nail all of them.” There is a pregnant pause as Caleb waits for Grant to hop onto this bet. I barely know the guy, but I’m sure he’s not taking that bet or anything. He’s burdened by morals, unlike the rest of us. “How many girls do you fuck?” Caleb tries again. As fun as it is to watch this exchange, I’m ready to get the hell out of here. I spend enough time with these idiots.
I start skating toward the bench, hopping over boards as I make my way to the locker room.
“I haven’t called practice!” Coach Ken shouts after me.
I keep going. “Ice bath!”
I start pulling off my gear. Doc stops me to do a quick check. He also orders me into the ice bath. I hop in, and I’m almost done by the time the rest of the team starts to flood into the locker room.
Coach gives me a piercing stare when he sees me. I give it right back. Don’t want me here? Fine, kick me off the team. Weboth know that’s not happening. Am I being a dick? Always, but this school makes money off this hockey team and pulls in potential new students whose parents will pay the hefty price tag to be here.
“Are you coming to the party?” Caleb asks when he hops into the ice bath next to mine. I shrug. Oftentimes there’s not much else to do.
Caleb’s parents don’t live here, but they do keep a house on the edge of town. Caleb spends his weekends there and is always throwing parties. “Grant said he’ll be there.”
“I don’t need Grant updates.” I stand, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist.
“Fucking dick,” I hear him mutter.
