Page 3 of Trick Play

I nodded, not that anyone was paying attention to me.

“Because,” Mackey stated, “I thought you all would appreciate the experience and opportunity to add to your portfolio. Being able to add a major campaign for the university is a pretty big deal.”

She wasn’t wrong. This class was about branding, and we were supposed to use all we learned from drawing, typography, and design courses to create completely personalized and cohesive proposals for future clients and businesses. This project would encompass all of that and was the best form of practice we could get.

She hit a key and the presentation moved on, showing images of the various banners around campus. “We’re focusing on winter sports. Basketball, swimming, diving, wrestling, and hockey. I’ll divide the class into five sections and assign one to each group. I want each of you to come up with three concepts for your sport by class on Friday,” she announced.

I groaned along with half the students. Three professional-level concepts in two days? I guess this was like the real world when disorganized bosses and clients made unrealistic demands and you had to find a way to make it work. Usually by giving up sleeping, eating, or socializing. Since the last one wasn’t a priority for me, it was the first two to go.

She walked to the far end of the room and counted off five people. “Basketball.” Then another five. “Swimming.” Five more. “Diving.” Next five. “Wrestling.” Oh no. No. No. No. “And you guys will do hockey.”

I was ready to raise my hand, but she was already walking away. “I’m releasing you early so you can walk around and check out the current banners in person to see the scale you’re working with and decide what you would improve on. The specific requirements are online. If you have any questions, reach out before Thursday night, please.”

The students around me gathered their things, but I jumped out of my seat and hurried toward Mackey as she packed up.

“Yes, Kennedy?” She watched me with narrowed eyes. It wasn’t like I was a troublemaker or anything, but I did have a reputation amid the department for being a bit … much. I just happened to be detail-focused and voiced my opinions. Apparently, some professors found it tiresome.

“May I please switch to a different sport?” I asked with my most charming smile, even batting my lashes for full effect.

She sighed and leaned a hip against the table. “And why would you like to do that?”

Because hockey is the devil’s sport, and all the players were evil, selfish, rotten, despicable vermin? No, that was mean to rats and mice. They were more like snakes. Hidden dangers waiting to strike out and tear into you with their venomous bite.

“Personal reasons.”

She cocked her head. “Kennedy, in the real world you’re going to have to work with, and for, people you may not like.”

Sure, but until then I was in the pretend world where I didn’t have to.

“Will I have to actually talk to, see, or breathe the same air as any of the players?”

She started to smile, but quickly covered it. “I don’t think that will be necessary. You’ll have access to any logos or images you may need through the drive, so you won’t have to interact with anyone unless you’d like to.”

I shook my head. “Nope, that will not be happening.”

“That’s fine. I look forward to seeing your concepts on Friday.” She offered a curt nod before picking up her bag and leaving me alone in the room.

Maybe I could use some of my photoshop tricks to my advantage or entertainment. I didn’t care about getting chosen for the project. I needed a passing grade on the assignment. Let someone else deal with the athletic department.

I didn’t need the glory or extra padding on my resume. Dealing with the team would just be more work I couldn’t handle.

Too bad my competitive streak wouldn’t accept losing. I dropped my head back and groaned. I needed to stop at the student store and stock up on energy drinks to get me through an all-nighter.

Chapter 2

Ethan

“Nice work, Clarkson.” Benjamin, my team captain, clapped me on the back as we reset to run through the play again.

“I’ll try to get into position faster this time,” Reid, my roommate and best friend, called as he passed me to center ice.

I waved my gloved hand to let him know I heard but kept my focus on the face-off. I knew exactly what I needed to do and how to execute the maneuver we’d been working on for the past two weeks. This was the first time all the pieces came together with the guys, and we were running it until it was ingrained into our brains.

This was what I loved most in the world. I knew what my team wanted from me and how to deliver. There was no better feeling.

We nailed it another three times before Coach Weston blew his whistle and told us to head to the showers.

“Clarkson, hang back. We need to talk.”