Page 3 of Cloudless

SHIT LIST

KAM

A sense of calm settles over me as the slam of the door echoes through the hall. The thin blanket of chill bumps and the slight burn of my eyes from the cold air of the hockey rink are a welcome reprieve on this warm Saturday morning.

Wide-eyed seven to nine-year-olds fill the rink. Their eyes are on a constant swivel as they watch my teammates set up for drills.

Hosting this camp as a team every year is the perfect start to our season. Being surrounded by the innocence of a child, who is here only because of their love for the game, always puts me in the best mindset going into our first practices.

It’s also a great way to bond with the new guys on the team.

The front bench groans under my weight as I sit to lace up my skates. The incessant buzzing of a few overhead lights and the stale smell of mold betray the age of Summit Hills' local rink.

Childhood memories flash through my mind as I look around the cavernous space. Saturday mornings with my sister learning to skate, Friday night practices for the local rec league during the summers, and some of the few good memories I had with my dad when he wasn’t drunk off his ass.

Nearby whispers draw me from my memories.

“Kam is here!”

“I was hoping he would be here.”

“Do you think I can get him to sign my stick?”

I ignore their whispers and give them all a small wave before heading out onto the ice. “Five minutes, guys. You ready to have a good time?”

A chorus of agreement shoots through the line of wide-eyed kids as they double their efforts to lace up.

Raised brows flow through the line of my roommates as my skates take their first bite of ice.

“Cutting it close, aren’t ya, Cap?” Dax’s cocky grin lets me know just how thrilled he is to not be the one cutting it close on time for once.

The strings of my hoodie sway with my shrug. “Ellie was having car trouble.”

Wyatt’s usual frown seems magnified under the bright, fluorescent lights. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, man. She’s fine. Something’s wrong with her back left tire, though. Keeps going flat no matter what I do. Think you could get your car guy to take a look at it? He did a pretty good job fixing her window last year.”

He scratches the dark scruff on his cheek as he nods. “Yeah, sure. I’ll take care of it.”

Mace shakes his head as a smile pulls at his lips. “It really pays to know everyone.” Wyatt’s frown turns into a full-blown scowl as Mace elbows him in the ribs. “Tell us your ways, Ranger. I’ve never seen someone so quiet know so many people.”

He shrugs as his eyes survey our other teammates around us. “Words aren’t the only thing that matters.”

A muttered, “For fuck's sake,” draws my attention from my roommates to my right. Colt’s face still holds a few pillow lines as he struggles with the cones in front of the net. His brows crease as his eyes volley between his friends around him. “Don’t we pay people to do this shit?”

I blow out a deep breath. “No cursing in front of the kids, Colt.”

Thankfully for him, I don’t hear whatever it is he mumbles under his breath.

Dax doesn’t even try to contain his chuckle as his eyes fall to the cursing freshman. “Is he the one?”

Mace’s head swivels to our roommate with a look of disbelief on his face. “There's no way he’s the one.”

I nod as I watch the freshman struggle with something we all learned how to do when we first learned to play hockey. “It’s him. I was in Coach’s office when he showed up last week.”

Waves of disappointment radiate from Mace as he crosses his arms. “I don’t believe that kid has a dad in the NHL for a second. What did his daddy do? Pay someone to fudge his records? The poor kid can’t even set up his own cones.”

Wyatt’s sigh carries through our group. “I’ve seen Colt’s tapes. He might be an entitled rich boy, but the kid can play.”

Mace shifts on his skates as he shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like having a dad in the NHL will give him any favors in Coach’s eyes.” His eyes shift between Wyatt and me as a smirk lifts his lips. “It’s not like it helped you two any.”

My eye roll can’t keep the smile from my face.

Our heads swivel in unison as raised voices pick up from just a few feet away.

The little boy's blond hair bounces with every word as he says, “You’re just mad Posey didn’t want to sit with you at lunch.

” His little hands tighten around his hockey stick as redness creeps over his cheeks.

“You wouldn’t be saying those mean things if she would have said yes. ”

His opponent's scoff has my eyes narrowing. His posse’s smiles widen from their places behind him as he crosses his arms. “I wouldn’t have even asked Posey if Mrs. Smith didn’t make me. Who would want to sit with a new kid, anyway?”

The blond boy's eyes flash with anger as his shoulders rise. It’s the slight twitch of his stick that has my feet moving before I fully think it through.

“Hey, guys!” The blond’s eyes never leave the boy in front of him as he relaxes his grip on his stick.

His opponent's eyes flash with recognition as I close the short distance between us.

Right away, my eyes fall to the bully's name tag.

“Have you done your warmup laps yet, Matt?”

His hair sways around his ears as he shakes his head with wide eyes. “You’re Kam Stryker! I was really hoping you would be here! My mom put a marker in my bag so you can sign my stick.”

I pat him on the shoulder as I force a smile to my face. “I’ll sign everyone's sticks after we’re done today. Why don’t you guys get in some warmup laps before we start?”

His smile widens as he turns to look at his posse gathered behind him. “Come on, guys.” The blond boy’s scowl deepens as he watches the group skate away.

My eyes fall to his name tag as I tilt my head. “What was all that about, Jasper?”

He just shrugs like he didn’t just almost deck his teammate over the head with his stick. “He was being a dick.”

Well, alrighty then.

I roll my lips to keep my smile from slipping free. “Why was he being a, uh…jerk?”

“He was making fun of Posey, and I didn’t like it.

” The fury in his eyes gives way to a chilling stillness as he looks down at his skates.

“I’m the man of the house now, so it’s up to me to stand up for her.

” He looks back up at me with such sadness in his eyes, it nearly takes my breath.

“What kind of brother would I be if I let him talk about my sister like that?”

A small smile pulls at the corner of my lips. “I know what you mean. I have a sister, too.”

His eyebrows shoot upward as he tilts his head. “You do?”

His hands twist in his shirt sleeves as I nod. “Sure do. She’s my twin, so that means we’re pretty close.”

His eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline as a genuine smile lights his eyes. “Posey is my twin, too!” He holds up four fingers. “I’m older by four minutes.”

My smile grows with his as I lower my voice and shield the side of my mouth, like I’m telling him the nuclear launch codes and not my birth order. “Well, don’t tell anyone, but my sister is a few minutes older than me. She thinks that makes her the big sister and me her little brother.”

He scrunches his nose as he stretches as high as he can to poke my bicep. “You’re definitely not little.”

He giggles as I poke him right back. “Yeah, well, you’re not little, either.

It takes a really strong person to stand up to a bully.

” A lightness consumes his eyes as I say, “You stood up to Matt even though he had all his friends standing at his back. You’re the tank that charges into battle, Jasper. ”

He grows four inches in front of me as a splitting smile takes over his face. “I’m a tank?”

“You sure are.” My poke against his bicep brings another round of giggles to the surface. “Now, go do your warmup laps, Tank.”

He holds his head high as he skates away.

My smile falls as I watch Matt and his posse laugh from their spot at the front of the group. Their carefree smiles and easy laughs bring a sudden wave of tension to my jaw.

Well, Matt, welcome to my shit list.