Page 45 of Break Points and Face Offs

He hasn’t realized I took what he said the wrong way. Thank fuck for that.

“Relax, we’ve got plenty of time to study. Are you scared I’m gonna beat you? Chickening out already, Ro … Rosenthal?”

He cocks an eyebrow but lets it go. I think I like sleepy Priestley better.

“I am not chickening out. I know you won’t be able to return my serve. I just think it’s a waste of time having this BS competition to prove it when we both already know that I’m the best suited for the job.”

Aaaand he’s back.

I don’t realize I’m clenching my jaw until I go to speak. I take a deep breath so he can’t hear the annoyance in my voice.

“We’ll see. Drink your coffee and get your stuff. We’d better get an early start if we wanna grab the rink before the kids get there for practice.”

He huffs but does as I ask.

There’s a nice crispness to the air as we drive to the rink. I let the radio play and enjoy the sound of voices speaking with a familiar accent. I’ve only been at Princeton a few weeks, but already I’m missing being somewhere I don’t stand out.

There are only a few cars parked at the rink when we arrive. I leave a few spaces between my borrowed car and Coach Barber’s beat-up Toyota. Even with Priestley on my heels, huffing about being out so early and spending our morning at an ice rink instead of working on our project, it feels good to be back here.

“Why aren’t we going to your old college?” Priestley asks.

“You’re kidding, right? BC takes that rink very seriously. It’s like asking me why we’re not fucking around at the Garden. Not gonna happen.”

“So where are we now?”

“This is a community ice rink. Junior and amateur teams play here. An old buddy of my dad’s owns it. He said I can use it any time I want.”

I don’t let Priestley’s bitching get to me as I open the doors to the building and look around for Jimmy. He’s out on the rink, resurfacing the ice with a yard hose.

He looks up when he hears the heavy doors slam shut behind us. I note the second he recognizes me from the big smile that splits his face.

“O’Reilly!” He waves us down, shouting to someone to switch the hose off.

“Need some help?” I ask.

“Huh?” Looking down at the hose in his hand, he laughs. “It’s a real professional outfit we got here.” He looks behind me. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Priestley. Priestley, this is my first ever coach, Jimmy.”

Jimmy shakes Priestley’s hand.

“Coach Barber it was to you back then, kid.”

He laughs and slaps me on the back.

“You wanna use the rink?”

“That okay?”

“‘Course, just let me finish up here and it’s all yours until the kids get here at ten-thirty.”

“Need any help?”

“Nah, I got it covered.”

“The spare skates still in the same place?”

“Yep, you know where to find them.”