On Thin Ice (Editing)

Chapter 10

I know this is super duper late, but I couldn’t keep you guys waiting any longer.  I really think you’ll enjoy this one.

*

“Vincent, dude, wake up,” Tyler shouts, chucking a pillow at me.  I groan and roll over, burying my face in the mess of pillows and blankets on my bed.  Due to his newfound romantic comedy obsession, Tyler kept us up until all hours of the night with his crying, laughing, and shouting at characters.  “Bro, we need to be downstairs in five minutes.”

At this news, I bolt upright in my bed and check the clock.  Sure enough, it’s almost half past eight, when we’re supposed to meet in the lobby to load the bus.  Running a hand tiredly down my face, my fingers brush a large piece of fuzz.  I reach around a bit more until I realize that it’s one of my fake eyebrows, and I quickly reapply it before Tyler can turn around.  Rifling through my bag, I pull out all of the things I need to wear today and head towards the bathroom.

The door swings open and Duncan emerges, a towel resting low on his hips.  He pushes a hand through his cropped hair, sending water droplets flying, and there’s a bit of stubble on his face.  I hold his gaze for a few seconds too long, before stepping past him into the bathroom, trying to hide my red cheeks.  Sometimes, he makes it really hard for me to keep up this act.

I quickly change into my compression clothes, pulling a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants on over them.  I make adjustments to my wig and fake eyebrows, then pull on a beanie.  When I open the bathroom door, I’m nearly knocked down by my hockey bag, which Tyler not so gently just tossed in my direction.

“Come on, man,” he persists, nearly shoving me out the door after Duncan.  “If we’re late, we’ll pay for it later.  Trust me, Coach doesn’t mess around about tournaments.”  Duncan nods his head, and the three of us take the stairs as quickly as we can down to the lobby, where most of the team is already waiting.  Coach gives us a stink eye, but we’re technically on time, so he can’t do anything.

When the last of the guys trickle into the lobby, we board the bus and make our way towards the skating complex.  The ride is filled with pep talks, Duncan’s way of pumping up the team before a match.

The next few hours go by in a blur.  We beat the first two teams that we played, and all I remember from those games was being pushed up against the boards several times, assisting a couple of goals, and Duncan’s hand giving my shoulder (and Truman’s) a squeeze at a point that we fell behind the other team.  Now, we’re starting the third period of the championship game for this tournament, and it’s taking every ounce of will I have to not throw myself at the bumbling idiots facing me.

I thought some of the guys on my own team were douches, until I was forced to endure interaction with our competition, a team from Miami.  It’s very evident that each of them think they are God’s gift to women, as seen by their incessant flirting with girls over the walls during any and every break they receive.  I have a pretty foul mouth myself, but these asses could make me sound like an angel by comparison.  And I’m pretty sure my body is going to be one giant bruise when this game is over.  It’s amazing that none of them have been ejected yet, although I think I might be if I actually set any of my murderous thoughts for them into action.

At the end of the third period, we’re tied at 3 goals each, and I’m almost positive that we’re going to lose.  They have the puck, and even I can see how much Tyler is struggling back in the net.  A referee blows his whistle, and their center takes the puck, quickly lining up to pass right.  Duncan and Truman move in my direction, to create a wall, but I skate the other direction at the last possible second, knowing that their center is trying to fake us out.  Just as I predicted, he slaps the puck to his left wing, and I’m ready for it.  I slip past him and after a bit of our sticks knocking together and curses being dropped, I manage to free the puck and start heading towards their defenders.