AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I flip the coin. Without looking away from the opposite captain, I catch it in one hand and slap it against the other one. Then I show it to her.
Her pretty face scrunches up. “Tails.”
You’d think the Bolts just won the conference cup with all their cheering. But while I get dragged back onto the big, new bus, I have a niggling feeling I just drove the final nail into my own coffin. Forget kissing Luz Rodriguez again. After this, she might not even want to be my friend.
CHAPTER 20
LUZ
Isteam with so much anger even the window beside me fogs up.
“Why are you still like this?” Brit nudges me with her shoulder. “We won! You should be happy.”
“For real.” JT kneels backward on her seat in the row in front of ours. “Hell, maybe we should even thank the Bolts. Their obnoxiousness sure lit a fire under our asses.”
We pulverized the other team tonight. Based on the talk in the locker room, I wasn’t the only one who imagined we were facing off with the Bolts instead. Those poor girls from West Bank College stood no chance against our collective ire.
What my friends don’t know, though, is that my current hissy fit isn’t because of the Bolts. Or their captain. But because of myself.
I sink farther into my seat and fold my arms, well aware that I screwed up again.
Sometimes—not often, but right now is one such occasion—I wish I was a sweet and dainty girl. Someone who isn’t constantly burning with the need to prove herself. What I guess is called having a soft temperament.
Worse still, I know I’m not always right. But I also know I’m not always wrong. And that’s the side I always bet on—that I may be right.
Tonight, Max won again. He cleverly sidestepped the conversation about why one team consistently gets the fancy bus, which is what made me blow up in the first place. Maybe he agrees that the Bolts should keep it because they have bigger bodies and more tender butt cheeks, but the fact remains that it wasn’t the time or the place to have that discussion. And apparently he was the only one who could see that.
Clearly, he’s made of better stuff than me. A captain should be able to keep their head cool and guide their team through the difficulties. He did that. I didn’t. I was ready to pour more fuel on the fire.
Once more, I showed Max Cassiano my worst side. That’s why I’m fuming right now.
“For real. Maybe they have their uses after all,” Brittany says with a laugh.
In front of her, Chelsea rises up slightly and wiggles around until she’s also facing us. Her smile puts me on edge. “And the most useful of all was their captain, huh?”
I narrow my eyes but say nothing. She’s been tossing around innocuous comments like this since she found Max and me alone on the ice last night. Obviously, she’s fishing for information I’m not going to provide.
“Hate to admit it, but if not for him, we’d have missed the game.” JT cringes until her shoulders are as high as her ears. “Gratitude toward a Bolt got me feeling like I need to shower again, but with bleach this time.”
Brit shudders. “Ugh, same. He’s kinda hot, though. Unlike Boucher.”
A murmur of assent echoes around them.
Until they catch me giving them the most exaggerated look.
Kinda hot? Kinda hot is putting a piece of pizza in the microwave for three minutes. Hot as hell is the oven that baked the pizza. Max is the oven. And I can’t stop dreaming about him, even though I know he’s going to burn me.
I run a hand down my face, exasperated that even my thoughts about him are getting out of hand.
“Geez, chill.” JT lifts her hands up as a barrier between us. “No one here is going to go fraternizing with the enemy. Okay, Captain?”
I sink as far into my seat as I can.
Coach McDonald stands between the front seats, grabbing the backrests. “Listen up, Strikes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” we all respond at once.
Normally, Coach Young is the one who makes all the announcements. She lost her voice after screaming her throat raw tonight. I don’t know whether she was that pleased with our seven goals, or if she was offloading stress after the confrontation with the Bolts.
