Page 63 of Like a Power Play (Greenrock University: Icebound #1)
Thirty Two
Peyton
FINAL CHAT FR THIS TIME
ME
First day backkkkk!
LNHL Countdown: 8 weeks
Reminder that we're meeting in the training room today.
brADY
DON'T COME
ROSE
Why?
Z
shit.
KIM POSSIBLE
What's going on?
CAY
Kaiser
ME
Oh come on, people. She's not THAT bad.
YERSIE
She's evil.
HAMMIE
I can confirm that I've felt evil spirits in that room.
brADY
She's out for blood today. I saw her in the hall and I swear her eyes were glowing RED.
KIM POSSIBLE
Wait, what's Kaiser's deal?
ME
She's…
YERSIE
Evil?
brADY
Aggressive!
Z
vociferous
CAY
Egregious.
HAMMIE
Perpetually angry…
ROSE
Unpleasant.
ME
Pretty much what they said.
KIM POSSIBLE
Have you filed a complaint with the board? Or with my mom?
ME
Do you know how hard it is to get coaches for women's teams?
KIM POSSIBLE
Fair enough.
YERSIE
Anyway, I don't feel well so I'm actually going to stay home.
CAY
Same.
ROSE
Same.
ME
Gym. Ten minutes.
I'll bring Monsters.
“ I told you she’s evil!” Harlowe groans, her arms trembling, shoulders quivering as she holds a plank. Her fists are clenched so tight her knuckles might burst through the skin, and the flush creeping up her neck tells me she’s probably got about thirty seconds left before she collapses.
I let out a slow, controlled breath, my own body starting to give in to the burn. My legs are shaking now, every muscle screaming for mercy, but I force my focus back to the clock on the wall.
“First day back,” I mutter. “And she’s putting us through hell already.”
Meredith Kaiser knows no mercy. Where Coach Cole is a little more... accommodating, Kaiser is an absolute monster . She doesn’t care if we’ve just returned from break, or if we’re running on three hours of sleep, or if we’ve maxed out every muscle in our bodies. Her workouts are relentless.
And she is terrifying .
Normally, I’m all for it. You can spend hours on the ice, but you won’t see real improvement without putting in the work in the training room. It’s part of the sport. But today?
Maybe it’s just because Darcy made me cut back on ice time, but after squats, deadlifts, box jumps, and RDLs, this feels excessive. I haven’t lifted a weight in a week, and instead of easing us back in—just a little, for the love of god— Meredith’s thrown us straight into the deep end.
“Shut up or she’s going to make us do T-Drills!” Bailey hisses. I force a tiny chuckle through my clenched teeth, but it quickly turns into a strangled gasp as another round of pain shoots through my abdomen.
In sync with the sporadic twinges in my muscles, the fluorescent lights above flicker, once, twice, before giving up entirely, plunging into darkness. A collective gasp ripples through the team, followed by an uneasy shuffle of feet. Someone lets out an embarrassingly shrill scream.
“Oh my god!” Bailey shrieks. “It’s the ghost!”
Harlowe’s voice breaks through the dark, pleading. “Does this mean we can stop?”
The darkness looms over us, deceiving me into the relief that I can stop. But just as I'm about to drop, a low, menacing voice cuts through the gloom.
“No!” Kaiser calls out, her tone unwavering. “Clarke, keep everyone on track. I’m going to go see what’s going on.”
I glance around the room, but all I can make out are the faint silhouettes of my teammates. A sigh slips from my mouth, my abdomen ablaze as I nod.
“Yes, Coach.”
As the seconds tick away, all that can be heard is the struggling sounds of our breathing. I want to give up. We all want to give up. But no one dares. Because if Kaiser comes back to any of us collapsed, hell will burn a fuck of a lot hotter.
Though, right now, I don’t know that anything could burn more than my abs. I suck in another slow breath, the flame from the plank relentless, when a familiar voice rings out from somewhere near the front of the room.
“Why are you guys sitting in the dark?” it asks.
I can’t see anything, but I don’t need to. Because the low, smooth tone of Darcy’s voice is unmistakable. My body betrays me, and I collapse onto my stomach, groaning, “Fuuuuck.”
The light snaps back on, blinding everyone in an instant, the sudden shock sending the rest of the room crashing down too. I rub my eyes, trying to adjust to the abrupt brightness, fighting to clear the swirling spots in my vision.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, blinking away the floaty remnants of the light burn.
Darcy looks gorgeous as always, wrapped in her new coaching jacket, complete with the GU logo on the shoulder, and soft, flowy pants. I have to say, while I miss her old, tattered look, I’m not opposed to this one. She looks happier. More confident.
Beside me, Bailey points at her, yelling, “Witchcraft!” Darcy’s brows furrow in confusion, and a laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. She adds quickly, “In a good way.”
Darcy tilts her head, as if weighing the ethics of witchcraft, before answering me. “Coach wanted me to check on you guys. Said you’re supposed to be on the ice already.”
At that, everyone turns to Harlowe. She shrugs, her sweat-slicked hair sticking to her cheeks. “What?”
I sigh. “We are, ” I reply, shooting Harlowe a disapproving scowl. “But Yersie decided to talk trash, and now we’re being punished with planks.”
“What the hell is going on in here?” Kaiser snaps, propping a hand on her hip as she steps through the doorway. Immediately, everyone cowers. And that’s not even a slight exaggeration.
Well, almost everyone.
Darcy stays unfazed, her posture steady as she meets the glare.
“Coach Cole needs them on the ice,” she explains coolly, the glint of the silver whistle around her neck catching the light as she shifts, putting herself between Kaiser and the rest of the room.
She used to carry that thing around in her pocket, or have it looped around her clipboard.
Seeing her wear it… well, it does something to me.
If possible, Kaiser’s scowl deepens. “And I need them here until they’re done.”
Darcy pauses for a split second, her gaze flicking briefly to me. I blink at her, confused at first, then finally realize what she’s silently communicating.
This is it. This is part of it. Part of my role as captain.
Standing up for my team.
I take a breath, pushing myself to my feet. My legs scream in protest, the burn from the planks still fresh, but I stand tall, locking eyes with Kaiser.
“With all due respect, Coach,” I start, my voice steady even though she’s already trying to smite me with her eyes. “We already have limited time on the ice, and you’re taking it away from us.”
Every muscle in the room tenses, and Kaiser’s eyes narrow, her jaw tightening as she stares me down.
"That’s not up to you, Clarke ,” she growls.
Heat creeps over my cheeks, but I don’t back down.
I clear my throat, ready to stand my ground, ready to fight back for my team and make up for all the lost passes, all the selfish moves, all the times I let them get into trouble because I was too focused on myself, but before I can, that firm, beautiful voice cuts back in.
“It is now,” Darcy insists. “If you want to keep them here, take it up with Coach Cole.”
And with that, she spins around. It only takes one silent second for everyone to follow, funneling out of the room in an animated rush of apprehensive exhilaration.
Lena’s cheering, Caydence looks begrudgingly pleased, and though Indie’s hazel eyes are so wide they might fall out, she lets out a tight, nervous giggle.
As we parade to the locker room, I see Faith pat Darcy on the back.
“That was sick,” she praises, and Darcy’s face flushes.
As we all get ready for practice, the team is a bundle of excited murmurs and laughs. I’m sitting on the bench, tying my skates when Darcy approaches me, clipboard in hand. I tilt my head curiously, letting a grin take over my face.
“Haven’t seen that in a while.” I point to it with my chin. Darcy’s freckled lips quirk.
“Well, I figured I should probably start using it for actual plays and stuff,” she says. “You know, as coaches do.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I laugh, the sound trailing off awkwardly at the end.
It’s like I’ve forgotten how to exist next to her.
Every word that comes out of my mouth that isn’t “I am definitively and helplessly falling in love with you” just feels like the wrong ones to say.
Gnawing at the dent in my cheek, I catch her eye. “You feeling okay?"
Her expression drops briefly, before she catches it, and schools herself into apathy.
"I'm a little banged up." She shrugs. "Double knee braces. Rash cream. My finger might fall off. The norm." She cracks a smile.
I'm about to ask if there's anything I can do—even though, from the research I've done, I'm practically useless—when a vexed voice booms through the locker room.
“I’m sorry?” Coach Cole snaps. “Did the Grizzlies turn into Sloths during hibernation? Clarke, why is your team not on the ice?”
Everyone’s eyes snap to me, and I immediately jump into mediation mode. “Sorry Coach!” I answer, hopping off the bench. Darcy takes a step back from me, clutching her clipboard to her chest. “My fault. We’re coming!”
Her gaze narrows onto me, sternly, but she grants me a sharp nod before disappearing out of the locker room. I slam my dry stall closed, gesturing for everyone to vacate as soon as possible.
“Code MB!” I yell, pushing everyone toward the door. Darcy looks at me, red brows furrowed.
“What’s code MB? ” she asks.
I grin. “Code Mamma Bear.”
Darcy erupts into a fit of giggles, slapping a hand over her mouth. Then, her expression turns warning. “Don’t let her catch wind of that. I won’t be able to save you.”
“Oh, come on Kimmy.” I flash her a toothy grin. “Don’t underestimate yourself.”
Voices echo as the team travels through the tunnel, a cluster of green already moving like a school of sweaty fish. I’m walking side-by-side with Darcy, like we did downtown, and in Salem. I only realize she’s stopped when I feel a light, familiar tug on the sleeve of my jersey.
The smile breaking across my face is unstoppable as I turn to face her. Bodies move around us like we don’t exist; only Harlowe seems to notice, patting me silently on the shoulder as she passes. We just stand there, staring at one another.
When everyone else is far ahead, funneling onto the ice, I can’t help but feel like this is my moment to say something.
To do something. To ask if I've been reading between lines that don't exist, or if that night in the hotel, when she said it didn't have to mean anything, she was doing what I've been doing this whole time.
Claiming I'm too busy. Calling it bad timing. Making excuses to prevent what had already begun. But when you bury something that has already taken root, it only grows.
The tunnel is vast, and all-encompassing, but the silence is even more so. And just when I gather the courage to open my mouth, Darcy speaks.
“You deserve to be here,” she says firmly. The weight of her hands sink to either side of my shoulders, and her eyes study mine like a map. I think back to the night of the party, when she was drunk in my room, standing in the same position.
I wanted to push her away then. All I want now is to kiss her.
“You deserve to be here,” she repeats. “I know you don’t believe it. I know that voice in your head keeps telling you you’re a fraud. But it’s proof you’re not. People who don’t care don’t question themselves. You do . Because this matters to you.”
I’ve heard that phrase a lot.
You deserve to be here.
It’s something my therapist has had my family tell me for years, and not that it doesn’t help, but it feels different coming from Darcy. Maybe because she owes me nothing. Maybe, it’s what she follows them up with. The reasoning behind it. Or maybe, it’s just the way it sounds when she says it.
There’s something about her that turns the pieces of myself I’ve always resented into pieces of myself I don’t. It's like she sees the darkest parts of me and calls it light.
I smile softly, reaching my hand up to brush her hair out of her face, when suddenly—
“ Clarke! Darce! Get your asses out here!”
I pull back quickly, blood pooling in my cheeks. Judging by the deep crimson spreading across Darcy’s face, she’s feeling the same sheepishness. We both stumble into motion, scrambling down the tunnel and bursting out into the harsh stadium light.
I rush onto the ice, surveying my team as they warm up. My team. My family. One that I deserve.
Maybe, if I say it enough, I’ll keep believing it.
“Cap!” Coach calls, tossing her head toward me. I lock eyes with her. “Lead regroup drills. Your choice.”
“Yes Coach!” I call.
I quickly turn back to the ice, clearing my throat. My voice comes out strong and steady, like I’ve done this all my life. “Circle up!”
Skates cut across the ice as players rush in from every direction, and for once, I don’t flinch under the gravity of their attention. Most people might hate that kind of spotlight.
But not me.
Not anymore.
I love being around my people. I’m even learning to love leading them.
We huddle close, arms thrown around shoulders, jostling and laughing. I suck in a steadying breath, lock eyes with Darcy one last time, then look back to my group.
“Alright team.” I grin. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”