Page 10 of Play Dirty

“But I know what you put on the ice.”

I had their attention now. At least temporarily.

I had to seize on the moment.

“Ares,” I said, glancing to him first. “You hit hard. That’s obvious. You generate momentum, and you force turnovers at critical moments.” I gave him a nod. “When you’re on, you shift the pace of the game in our favor.”

Ares didn’t move. He didn’t react.

But I could see he was listening.

“You also overcommit,” I added. “You chase contact when you don’t need to, which pulls you out of position and leaves your lane exposed. The refs notice this, by the way. That’s where half your penalties come from.”

I sensed a small shift in the group. Nothing big. But definite movement.

“Caleb,” I went on, turning his way. “You’ve got one of the best shots on the team. Quick release. Deadly accuracy, from mid-range.”

He straightened a little, without meaning to. Like he’d been called on in class, by a teacher.

“But you also hesitate,” I continued. “You wait for the perfect look instead of taking the good one. By the time you make the decision, the window’s gone.”

His mouth tightened into something small, and sour-looking.

Still, he didn’t deny it.

“Asher,” I said, finding him next. “You read plays well. Your anticipation’s your biggest asset, and you’re usually in the right place before the puck gets there.”

I watched him flip his long hair back. He actually looked interested.

“You get lazy on the backcheck though,” I added. “You assume the play’s dead before it really is. That’s why you get caught trailing.”

Someone elbowed him. He absorbed it without resisting.

“Dorian, you’re consistent,” I took him on next. “You don’t make a lot of mistakes. Your play’s stable, and you don’t miss many opportunities.”

His eyes met mine. He actually nodded at my comment.

“But you also don’t take risks,” I went on. “Which means you don’t create opportunities, either.”

Zack got a look.

“You’re unpredictable,” I told him. “That’s worked for you so far. You break patterns. You create openings.”

Zack broke into a grin. He might’ve even taken a bow, if I didn’t continue.

“You also have no discipline,” I added. “Which is why you’re just as likely to break our plays, as the other team’s.”

His grin faded fast. I didn’t linger on him.

“Sebastian,” I said, addressing the goalie. “You stay composed under pressure. You don’t overreact, or leave the crease until the play comes to you.”

My floor mate stood behind his heavy padding, leaning on his stick. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Your problem is you’re not communicating enough with your defense,” I told him directly. “Which means they’re guessing when they don’t need to.”

He stared back at me placidly. Accepting what I’d said, without reacting.

“Finally, Grayson.”