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“What are you going to wear?” Lacey asks, walking to the closet where she unpacked all her things. I’ve yet to unpack my meager belongings. Lacey doesn’t think it’s strange that I have next to nothing. I think she likes the idea of me being a charity case she can take under her wing.
“This?” I ask.
“Oh, no. If you’re coming with me, you can’t dress like that.”
I want to argue with her, but she’s already taking dresses out and holding them up to me, closing one eye as if she can envision what I’ll look like in them. Fine, if she wants to dress me up, I guess I’ll play along.
After too much time spent fussing, I look nothing like myself. I’m wearing a short skirt and a tank top. I fought Lacey on heels, so we compromised on ballerina flats after a lot of pouting on her part. I won’t flex on wearing my own hoodie, though, even if she tells me it ruins the look.
Finally, we’re ready to go.
The arena is packed with students and parents, and the atmosphere is electric. We shuffle into seats Lacey’s friends kept us, and I looked at the teams on the ice. As I watch, one of our players scores a goal, and the crowd goes wild.
“I knew he would bring it home!” Lacey cries out, clapping. “Stone is on form tonight.”
“Stone?” I ask.
“Yeah, Stone Giles. He’s the best player you’ll ever see. If he doesn’t get drafted to play national after college, I don’t know what this world is coming to.”
I watch Stone as he glides over the ice and shoulders another player out of the way without thinking twice.
So, that’s why he’s so full of himself. They really do think he’s a god around here. It’s a pity he’s such an asshole.
Chapter 3
Stone
The game is a piece of cake. The other team is thrown off their game because the new goalie isn’t in tune with the rest of them the way the other one was.
Breaking his nose nearly got me suspended from the team, but it was worth it. They won’t kick me off anyway. I’m the fucking MVP. If they want to win, they have to keep me on. And they definitely want to win.
Our new coach needs a good start, too. Reputation is everything, which is how I got rid of the other coach for wanting to suspend me. Rumor has it he’s been fiddling with the students, not that it’s true, but when I pull the right strings…
Oops.
When I’m on the ice I feel alive. It’s the only thing that reminds me I’m not dead inside. Adrenaline courses through my veins, and I don’t need pills or lines because this is a natural high that makes me feel like I’m flying.
My skates slice across the ice. The stick is an extension of my arm, and when I flick the puck into the net yet again, the crowd goes wild. It’s music to my ears; I just love it when they worship me.
We win the game five-two. If Harris, our goalie, doesn’t give me a good reason why he missed those two shots, I’m going to bust his teeth in. But we did good, thanks to me. Maybe I’ll be nice and let him off the hook.
The team comes together, and we rattle ours sticks against the ice—a celebration for our win.
The other team skulks off the ice with their tails between their legs. I glance at them down my nose.
Pussies.
In the change room, everyone is on a high.
“Nice play, man,” Chaz says. “You brought that one home. I swear, if we didn’t need six players to make a team, coach would have put you up alone.”
I smirk. “You’re welcome.”
Chaz rolls his eyes. “You’re such a dick, you know that?”
“I’m aware,” I laugh.
“A little humility won’t kill you.”
