stick to the game, you all think you know better.”
In our defense, the UVM hockey team is full of assholes, and any fights that break out on the ice are always instigated by them in some way.
I wonder if they take lessons on getting in our heads because they’re damn experts at it.
“No sloppy penalties! No fighting!”
“Yes, Coach,” we say in unison.
He storms out of the locker room, and the door closes with the resounding sound of finality.
We all stay seated in various states of undress.
There’s a defeated aura surrounding us, hanging low and heavy like a storm cloud.
It’s my job to rally these guys, but I don’t know if I have it in me today.
“That practice sucked,” I say bluntly.
It earns a few snickers.
“Pep talk of the year award goes to Grant,” Beck says.
More laughs.
The atmosphere relaxes a little, and maybe what the guys need right now isn’t threats about this one game screwing with our whole season. They don’t need to be yelled at.
“For real though, you all have to remember that tomorrow is only a game. It doesn’t stand for rank. It doesn’t count toward the season. Forget the CU curse, and go out there and have fun.”
“And if we lose?” Simms, the rookie I gave a hard time that first day, asks.
We put that first day behind us, and the kid has talent, but he’s still green.
“If we lose? It’s really simple. We become the first team in the history of our school to beat the CU curse. It’s the Frozen Four or die this year, boys.”
Cheers and hollers erupt around the room as the guys finish stripping down and make their way to the showers.
Jacobs sidles up to me. “It’s a tall order, Captain.”
I smile. “Maybe to be safe, we’d better make sure we win tomorrow night.”
“Damn straight.” Jacobs opens his mouth but closes it again fast.
“We cool?” I ask.
He lets out a relieved breath. “I was going to ask you that.”
“Drop the Zach shit and we’re cool.”
He throws up his hands. “Consider it dropped.”
“Then consider us cool.”
He slaps my back as he walks away.
After I shower and get dressed in sweats and a tank top, I check my phone to find a message from my brother.
SETH: Are you kidding me? You’re making Zach go to your stupid game wearing your number?
FOSTER: He lost a bet.
My phone starts ringing.
Grabbing my gear bag, I make my way outside to answer it.
“What?” I love my brother. Really, I do.
“What? What? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“I … made a bet with a friend, and he lost?”
“I tell you to look out for him, and you’re making him go to a hockey game. Hockey.”
“What’s wrong with hockey?”
“Nothing. Unless you’re Zach Sawyer.”
I huff. “What aren’t you two telling me? Does this have something to do with the reason you asked me to keep an eye on him to begin with?”
“You know Morris on the UVM team?”
“Asshole McDickface as we like to call him? Yes.”
Seth sighs long and hard. “For some reason, Zach was on his radar last year. It’s like he took pleasure in humiliating him in front of a bunch of people. Mostly juvenile things like tripping him or shoving him. Calling him derogatory stuff.”
“What the fuck?”
“I don’t even know why or how Zach became his target, just that he made Zach’s life a living hell for a while. He even changed dining halls and stayed away from anywhere Morris could be.”
My chest burns, and my anger spikes. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Whatever, macho man. The only way you can take care of this is by not making Zach go tomorrow night.”
“Did he say he doesn’t want to go, or are you saying it?”
“What?”
“How did you know he was planning to come?”
“He asked for my jersey.”
“Doesn’t that tell you he wants to be there?”
“Noooo.” He grunts, and I feel his frustration through the phone. “It tells me he’s doing it to prove some sort of point. Like he can handle it on his own or some shit.”
“Seth … you do know Zach isn’t a child, right? He can look after himself.”
“I don’t want to see him hurt.”
“That’s admirable, but I get the sense he hates how overprotective you are of him. And trust me, he’ll want to be there tomorrow night.”
“Why?”
“To see how awesome I am. Duh.”
And to see Morris get a little payback.
I send a silent apology to Coach for planning to break the promise I made him, but the thought of anyone going after