Page 12 of Call the Shots (For The Arena #1)

BEAR

TWINKLETOES

Our exhibition practice meant the Muppets’ Kokomo playing over the speakers, maybe twenty people in the bleachers, almost all family members of my teammates, and June wearing a Romans hoodie.

A football hoodie. A hoodie for a completely different sport and a completely different team, connected to her ex-boyfriend.

I couldn’t stop stealing looks at her, sitting with King and his little sister. June tilted her head, giggling, in his hoodie.

A hand smacked the back of my head, and I lurched away. “ What? ”

“Now that you’re paying attention,” Denali said, his voice dry, “I have a job for you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I need you to keep an eye on Elijah.”

My eyes darted to June. “Yeah.”

“I don’t need him pissing anyone off— Bear .”

“Huh? What?”

“Are you listening? I’m going first and you need to keep Elijah in check?—”

“June’s wearing Romans gear.”

He lifted his shoulder for a disinterested shrug. “Okay?”

“We have more people on the team than in the bleachers, it’s so damn noticeable.” I grabbed Montoya. “Do you see what June’s wearing?”

“Um…a hoodie?”

I pushed him back. “I don’t know why I’m asking a toddler, he can barely tie his own skates. Denali, you know how this looks. She should be wearing our gear?—”

“If it’s that important, I’ll talk to her,” he promised. “But Coach is here and?—”

I scanned the audience. “No, he left.”

“Goddammit. Whatever. Just keep an eye on Elijah, I don’t want him in trouble.”

The announcer introduced Denali to a smattering of applause, really a fart in the wind. Overhead, the Muppets’ Kokomo melted into…the Muppets’ Kokomo .

Nick frowned. “This song is longer than I remember.”

“ Elijah. ” I yanked him by his jersey. “How many times is Kokomo playing?”

A shit-eating grin crossed his face. “The whole playlist is Kokomo .”

The team swore at him, and some tried to hit him. I should’ve let it happen, but I kind of told Denali I’d keep an eye on him. With a sigh, I kept Elijah from getting too close to the rink before his time, my fingers locked on the collar of his jersey.

“What do you want?” he demanded. “A big hug before we go out together?”

“Shut up.” I snuck another look at the stands. “What do you think about King?”

“I don’t like him.”

Taken aback, I paused. “You don’t like him?”

“He gives me a bad vibe,” Elijah admitted.

“The tattoos, the scars, he doesn’t say a word to anybody.

” I couldn’t believe I was agreeing with Elijah, but with every word, he made me feel better.

He tipped his chin towards them. “There’s something about him I don’t trust. He just doesn’t seem like a good guy. ”

The announcer called Elijah to the ice, and I finally released him, pondering what he said. I hadn’t known June for long, but I couldn’t picture her with…someone like King. A clear weirdo. It left a sour taste at the back of my mouth.

“Bear?” Fridge sighed. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for?—”

“Why do you care about King?” he pressed, slipping his face mask on.

“You don’t know him. You’re purposely searching for rumors about a guy who’s done nothing to you.

” The thin metal bars didn’t hide his look of disgust. “Is that how you want to spend your time? Don’t you have hobbies? Things to do?”

“Fuck off, Fridge.”

The announcer called Fridge next, and he shook his head. “Are you going to believe Elijah? ” With that cutting remark, he slipped to the ice, and I was left to mutter, stuck in my bad mood.

June and King were getting cozy. They weren’t even dating anymore, why were they that close?

“C’mon, Twinkletoes!”

Elijah’s yell broke my one-sided staring contest.

Shit.

They were trying to roll out Riley Townsend, but the freshman’s skates were barely on the ice. He refused to budge away from safety, his gloves still firmly clutching to safety. Elijah skated in front of him, grinning from ear to ear.

Shit, shit, shit .

“What’s up, Twinkletoes?” Elijah mocked. “Are you scared?”

“I’m not fucking scared,” Riley snapped, his hands shaking in time to Kokomo .

“You have the whole arena watching! Spotlight’s on you, baby!”

Our teammates were clumped together, and I had to push and shove them away, trying to get to Riley.

“Shut up!” Riley snarled.

“Yeah? Say that to my face!” Elijah skated forward in a flurry of ice. “Wait, you can’t, you’d have to stop shaking first!”

My fingers grazed the back of Riley’s jersey, but he leaped, crashing into Elijah. Fists flew, curses tangled together, and I watched in shock as Riley gripped Elijah by his hair and slammed his head against the ice.

I threw myself after them.

Fights were a regular part of hockey but not a fucking exhibition practice with your own teammates. We weren’t even playing a real game! I managed to grab Elijah, but Riley decked me in the jaw—on purpose, on accident, I had no idea—and I dropped him instantly.

Riley grabbed Elijah by the throat. “Fuck you, bitch!”

Other players flew over and were caught in the crosshairs. Separating the two of them didn’t matter because once Elijah was out of range, Riley tried to beat somebody else’s ass.

All hell broke loose.

The rest of the guys poured onto the ice.

Half of us were grabbing each other to stop the fight, the other half reacting to getting popped in the back of the head, by popping them in the mouth.

I didn’t know who the hell was hitting me, I just elbowed my way through my teammates, cursing loud enough to land me in the sin bin for the rest of my life.

It was dirty, it was gritty, it was a fucked-up bar fight.

I wrestled Elijah away, both of us down on the ice, and I shook him like a glow stick. “Knock it off!”

“He can’t skate!” Elijah laughed. “That kid can’t skate!”

“He has stage fright, asshole!”

His laugh left him wheezing. “What kind of team is this?!”

“Listen, you’re doing this in front of everybody—” My words stuttered to a stop. I glanced over a sea of hockey players beating the ever-loving shit out of each other to catch sight of the audience on their feet, phones out, recording us.

June, shocked in the bleachers.

I let go of Elijah.

“Oh…shit,” I whispered.