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The story would endup one of two ways.
Either Atlas started the fight.
Or I threw the first punch.
My opinion?
Both were true.
Atlas was in a bastard mood from the second we took to the ice.
I had forgotten how much I could not like the guy.
He skated by me and whispered, “Sad boy, ready to play?”
Then he cackled.
Everyone gave me a little hell here and there about myoff the ice issues.
Atlas and I fell right into old form though.
We were like a wall of a steel.
Not letting anything through at all.
Until one fancy play where Sebastian and Rome teamed up on me, then Henry came in from nowhere and got around me.
Rome passed it to Sebastian and Sebastian right to Henry.
I saw the play a split second too late, but I told myself I had time.
That’s when Atlas appeared and we collided.
Henry gave the puck a weak hit and it slid into the net with ease.
“Where’s my defense?” Coach Denny screamed from center ice.
“What the fuck?” I growled at Atlas.
“Where were you?” Atlas growled back.
“Doing my fucking job. Stay away from my space.”
“Sorry, bro. Not used to having you here. You look like you’re going to cry. Need a couch to sit on?”
I threw everything to the ice.
So did Atlas.
We went for each other.
Nobody landed any good punches.
Rome and Henry pulled us apart and Coach Denny kicked us off the ice.
Once we were in the locker room, Atlas broke his stick against an old, rusty locker.
Then he looked at me and nodded. “How are you doing?”
