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Chapter 3
Theo
You Good
Sunday, August 18th
“You good, man?”Koa asks as we walk into the arena for the gear grab, a short meeting, and to get our schedules.
“Feel like I’m hungover, and I didn’t have an ounce of alcohol.”
Dash chuckles. “Hurricane—what was her name again?”
“Chloe,” I grumble as I run my hand up the back of my now buzzed head.
“Looks bad-ass, Rivera,” JT assures me. “Still got all those sexy locks on the top.”
I lift my chin. “Yeah, thanks for that. Would have been nice to know you were good with the clippers two years ago when I started here and had no idea where to go.”
He chuckles. “You’ll probably know a hell of a lot more about all of us now that you don’t have Stone, Smith, Giuilietti, and Costello to cart around.”
“Team hazing?” Dash cringes.
“Hell no. Stone loved him from day one and took him under his wing.” JT laughs. “Not sure he even spoke to me until last semester, and I played with them a year longer than Rivera.”
“He took interest because I was signed with the same team he was,” I explain.
“Flyers, right?” Dash asks.
I nod as I open the door to the locker room.
“But he went to the Bears because Costello bought them?” Koa asks.
“Better contract, too, right?” JT asks.
I smile. “Dream team right there.”
“Yeah, well, we’re gonna win the frozen four two years in a row, and you’ll do it again the year after, Rivera. The ultimate hat trick.” JT nods.
As the teams staff hands out gear, I introduce Koa and Dash to the rest of the team, knowing Dash is going to ask a million questions about each of them when we leave, and not just because he’s a talker, but because I had at least that many when I came in as a freshman, and they’re juniors.
“Heads-up,” JT whispers when Coach walks in the locker room. “Coach comes off as an asshole, but he’s really not that bad.”
“We have a lot of new faces here today, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing. My expectations are no different for this team today as it was before we took the ice in Vegas and won the Frozen Four championship last spring. I couldn’t be prouder of what we achieved together. I’m seeing a lot of you still riding on that pride right now. That shit ends today. Your heads need to come out of the clouds, and your skates need to be planted on the ice. You’re no longer that team.” Coach sputters then looks around.
“I’ve had some accusations brought against me. Been questioned about hours required for practice. As you know, it’s a max of twenty hours a week and at least one full day off. We’ve stayed within those perimeters but have and still will have open skate and keep the fitness center open to you should you chose to utilize that.”
“Any idea who would have done it?” Dash whispers.
“Montgomery,” JT and I both answer.
“We’ll fill you in back at our place,” I assure him.
Last year’s women’s coach was a massive piece of shit and treated his team like dirt. Don’t get me wrong; Kosta gives us shit, but this guy, he wigged the fuck out. Shit all over the Daniels girls and the entire women’s team. Even shit on his assistant coach—a woman—as well as Dean Costello and Coach. All are big no-nos. The Daniels twins’ father is a highly respected and retired NHL superstar. Dean Costello’s family built this state-of-the-art arena and training facility here at Lincoln. And Coach … well, he’s Coach. Montgomery is not just an asshole; he’s bat-shit crazy, and you don’t fuck with crazy. Dean Litty witnessed the whole thing, and even though he’s known to be a dick, he really had no choice but to fire Montgomery’s ass.
“You know what went down. Montgomery got fired, and our Coach Tallman took his job after they shut down our program at Hayward,” Dash reminds Koa.
“Shit, that’s right.”
