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“Good,” he replies warily.
“Can’t we call a truce?” I say.
“What’s your angle, Bozeman?” he asks.
“No angle but there’s this bad energy between us. We bring it to the ice every time we play. Can’t we just be a bunch of professionals and get over it? We both clearly didn’t get the girl,” I say.
Something inside him deflates.
“Truce,” he agrees.
“Truce,” I say back to him. He’s about to walk away when I stop him. “Carter?” I call after him.Here goes nothing.
He turns to look at me with the same lack of trust he always holds when I’m around. “What ever happened to her?”
He shrugs. “We broke up sophomore year. I don’t know. Heard she dropped out.”
His words cause my stomach to turn. Skylar was the most driven person I ever met.
I nod.
“See you on the ice. Have a good game,” I say.
“You too.”
I head back to the locker room where Coach Myles gives the team a pregame spiel. Then we are heading through the tunnel like we do on any other night there is a game.
“Is everything okay?” Wolfe asks, coming up beside me.
“Made things right with Lewis. You don’t need to worry, Cap,” I say. Not that Wolfe won’t worry. He’s a great captain and looks out for all of us.
“Good.” He nods and walks off while I feel like I’m going through the motions. Anthem. Puck drop.
The game moves fast.
First period Carter and I aren’t on the ice together. By second period we are at face-off. He gives me a smirk. His lip curling and his eyes filled with mirth. It isn’t the first time I’ve seen the look on him. I wonder what his angle is because I thought we just had a white flag moment. The ref drops the puck and I shoot it first. It’s me who’s smiling now as I skate off and head toward the opposite side of the ice. Some of my teammates battle over the puck since they got there first. Evan shoots the puck to me and then Carter is on me. Jabbing his stick. He elbows me in the ribs but it isn’t caught by the refs so no one calls him out. I fight hard because no way am I letting this asshole steal the puck when we are so close to the opposing team’s net.
Suddenly Carter pulls at my jersey. “What the fuck?”
“Asshole,” he shouts. I wonder what the hell has gotten into him. This isn’t cool. Did I do something to piss him off already?
I keep my eyes on the puck and shove him off me, keeping my hands to myself, but Carter is persistent tonight as he checks me into the boards. I have no choice but to shove him back. It’s clear we aren’t just playing the game at this point. The asshole punches me, and I shove him into the boards. The ref calls the penalty and we both end up in the sin bin.
Damn him.
I usually keep my cool with other players who like to start shit. He’s the only one who can really get under my skin. I think of what an asshole he is for pretending to be cool with me just minutes ago. It makes me wonder if maybe he is still with Skylar and he lied.
I’m so pissed at myself for falling for his stupid antics that my body is tense. But I also see this as an opportunity.
I get out of my seat and walk over to him, which is a very wrong thing to do in the middle of a game. Before anyone has the chance to stop me my feet are moving. “Why do you have to start shit every time we play? I don’t understand what I ever did to you,” I say to him because maybe this isn’t about Skylar at all.
He looks at me like I’m dense.
“You go after everything I want, and you steal it away,” he says surprising me. I begin to think he’s insane. We were never friends. How the hell would I know what he wants? I play along.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask him.
“We were rivals on the ice in high school. Both of us after the same teams for college. Only you had money behind you. The better training. You had more opportunities than I did to make it onto the Westfall team,” he says.
