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“From what I’ve heard, she disappeared before lunch, and no one’s seen her. Principal Keer made an announcement that we should report to him if we found her, but by the end of the day I heard that he was suggesting that she’d run away.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Lili scoffs. “I would find this girl anywhere. When I say that I’m very serious about my family, I mean it. Noor wouldn’t run after a sick prank.”

“You’re right,” Nacio murmurs. “Here we go. Welcome back, Noor.”

She blinks slowly as she groans and I lift my bag to my shoulder. I’m obviously not one of her favorite people at the moment, or ever, so I’m gonna jet. I really do have practice today.

“Glad you found her,” I say, turning away.

“Draven, right?” Lili asks.

“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, keeping my back to her.

“Stop fucking with Noor, or you will regret it.”

I begin walking as I nod, unable to say what I want to.

I can’t stop fucking with her. I’m in too deep.

“Fucker!” Royal yells, punching a player on the opposite team that slid right into me and the net.

I’m happy to let them beat the shit out of him, and I rock back and forth on my skates to stay limber. It almost looks like I’m dancing I suppose, and the stands begin to scream as the fight continues.

Alastair joins in as I slide further away from the net, the puck lost behind it while they pummel the asshole who lost control. I’ll let them handle this while I stay out of the way now that I know for sure that the puck isn’t in play.

We’re playing an away game in Malibu, and these players seem to think that they don’t have to play by the rules. My team doesn’t fuck around, not about my safety. It’s bad enough that I had to explain away my black eye today. It wasn’t bad yesterday, but it looks really awful now.

Twirling in a circle as I hum one of my favorite songs under my breath, I wait for a ref to break up the fight. I stretch out my neck from side to side, pretend to hump the ice to get the people in the stands going, and generally keep myself occupied.

Ciaran knocks the asshole’s legs out from under him, and I grin as the kid falls on his ass. The whistle sounds, and I raise my arms up in the air as if to take all the credit for the fight.

My team surrounds me, tapping me on the shoulder or helmet to make sure I’m good. I appreciate the attention, but I nod to show I’m fine. Winters is the guy’s name who slid into me, but my leg pads kept him from really doing any damage with his skates.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Ciaran grumbles, grabbing my mask to tap his forehead against mine.

“Dick did it to test us,” I spit out. “He slid into me steel first. They don’t know who we are. Let’s go show them.”

“For D!” Ciaran yells, skating back as he takes off on the ice. The team cheers my name as I move back to my net, and the refs push it back into place.

“You good, son?” a ref asks.

“Yeah. Thanks,” I say, shuffling as I watch the game.

Alastair and our guys are pushing into enemy territory, intent to score the first goal. We’re about five minutes into the second period, and it’s been tense on both sides as we’ve played.

The Malibu Academy is cocky, but they play well. The issue is they’ve gotten my guys riled up, which means they’re in for a world of hurt. Ciaran is working them over, keeping them unbalanced with his words, and checking them when violence is needed.

I’ve already seen him knock several players up and over his back onto the ice to get them out of the way. He’s trying not to get thrown into the Sin Bin, and is doing well with it.

My eyes narrow as the puck is driven back in my direction, and I move into my stance so I have the balance to push my body in whatever way I need to block this goddamned puck.

My lips pull back into a grimace as I concentrate, and my left hand knocks the puck away from me.

That was a shit shot. I’m not here to chirp, but I do have a running commentary going in my head.

Eamon gains control of the puck, shooting it to Finnegan, a junior with good hands. Malibu Academy follows him as he flies down the ice, and the puck changes hands often. There’s a shitty high stick from the Malibu Oilers, and I scream as it hits Ciaran in the face.

“Hey!” I complain, shaking my head as the ref blows his whistle.