Page 5

HAYDEN

At this point there’s no denying that there’s something about road trips that take the life out of me, but thankfully, we’ve made it to Canada. The sun is nowhere to be found, there’s snow on the ground, and I’m not prepared for the chill-you-to-the-bone cold that people have warned me about.

Our bus slows to a stop at a compound that’s just on the outskirts of the city. There are other buses pulling up, as well as a few that are already parked in this massive lot. In the distance, there’s a courtyard where some players are loitering as masses of us alight from our team vehicles.

In my peripheral vision, I can see the Wildwood University bus, and I’m trying my best to not look at Theo Sanders, but I can’t lie about the fact that his words have left me in slight shambles.

I’ve bantered with the guys before, and it’s not a rare occurrence for us to so-called “flirt” with our friends.

It’s not romantic, of course, as it’s just joking around and messing with one another, but I have never— ever —seen someone flirt with their enemies.

Theo’s throwing me off guard, to say the least. I’m not quite sure what it is about him that allows him to get under my skin so easily.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t our favorite rivals.” Xavier greets us boisterously as he and his team walk over. Weirdly enough, he’s the first to offer Julian a handshake. He isn’t typically this polite, but I have bigger things to focus on than his sudden pleasantries.

Julian shakes Xavier’s hand. “Nice to see you again, Xavier,” he says before turning to the group of guys behind the captain. “Wolverines,” he courteously adds. “Looking forward to a fun week with you guys.

Xavier’s smile is scaring me, because that man is beaming from ear to ear. It’s completely unusual and incredibly unsettling.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be a blast!” Xavier exclaims, patting Julian’s shoulder twice. “We’ll see you guys inside,” he says to the rest of us. Only a few guys have the courtesy to respond with a nod or a wave, likely because this is all too freaky for anyone who’s used to Xavier’s wild ways.

With that, the Wolverines leave us to go inside the main building, where no doubt our coaches and the rest of the staff are waiting for us. Players from other colleges also make their way inside in a slow drip of people, leaving only us Somerset players out in the cold.

I share a look with Ansel, and he seems as weirded out by this as I am.

But there’s a change in the air, and out of the blue, I’m starting to get a slightly giddy feeling about this whole training camp.

“I think things just got a little more interesting, old buddy,” I say to my roommate as I wrap my arm around his shoulders while we walk to join the rest of the players.

“You might just be right, my friend. Just don’t trip on your face, yeah?

” Ansel teases, poking my sides as we enter through the door where we’re greeted by a spacious open area that seems to be the compound’s event hall.

There’s a large LED screen on the other end of the hall, showing us welcoming messages and fun facts about Toronto.

“Don’t worry,” Ansel continues. “I’ll make sure to pick up the slack if you do. ”

When we first heard of this divisional training week, I expected a cute little camp where I would have to share a room full of bunk beds with my team or something.

But, from the looks of it, this experience will be more like a five-star hotel, complete with ornate trophies and hockey paraphernalia, ornate flooring and molding, and a huge skylight here in the lobby that looks straight up to the cloudy sky.

We’re informed that a welcome ceremony is about to unfold, and each player is to line up with their respective team in preparation.

Coach Edmund walks up to the podium placed in front of the LED screen, leaving behind a table with the rest of the coaches as he apparently prepares to give a speech.

Out of all of the coaches here in the event hall, Coach Edmund looks the most experienced.

Sure, I could be biased, but it is what it is.

“Welcome to the training camp, boys.” Coach Edmund’s greeting is warm as ever, accompanied by his signature smile and soft tone.

As per usual, his delivery comforts me like a reassuring hug, his kind demeanor instilling in me the confidence I need to take this week’s challenges and meet them head-on.

“Over the next week, you all will participate in an intense training program that aims to build camaraderie within your respective teams, while also helping youngsters like you establish friendships with fellow hockey players from other teams,” Coach Edmund explains.

I can’t help but look at the Wildwood Wolverines all lined up right next to us.

A little ways up front from where I am stands Theo.

Somehow, Theo has detected me looking right at him, because not a second later, his dirty blonde head turns around to face me.

His blue eyes catch mine, but this time, I don’t falter.

Theo smiles at me, his face brimming with sunshine as opposed to his usual cold demeanor.

And this time, I blush without turning my head.

“And I know you all are a little tight and stiff from your long road trip, so your coaches and I think that maybe a friendly match would do everyone good so you guys can loosen up,” Coach Edmund continues, once again catching my attention.

I’ll admit, I kind of zoned out a little bit there, but I’m surprised to find that we’re getting into the thick of things so quickly. I haven’t even gotten to my room yet.

What surprises me even more is that there’s a mischievous grin spreading across Coach Edmund’s wise face. I’ve been under his wing for four years, and so have Julian, Dom, Ansel, and Evan. We all share a look, knowing that a curveball is about to be thrown our way.

“But just for the fun of it,” Coach Edmund says, anticipation building with every word, “your coaches and I have also agreed to do these matches with randomized team members.”

A wave of shocked responses wash throughout the crowd of hockey players, and slowly, a tumultuous racket starts building up when it becomes clear that a fair amount of the guys are against the idea.

Coach Edmund can only chuckle into the microphone, but the rest of the coaches stand up from their seats to send stern warnings to their respective teams, effectively shutting up the loud jeers and protests.

I’m kind of fired up myself, my emotions torn between excitement and dread. But the latter emotion isn’t exactly productive, given that it’s clear that we’ll have to participate in these team shake ups whether we like it or not. Resigned, I sigh and close my eyes. Let the games begin .