Page 7

Tucker

“Looking good, Tuck,” Coach calls out from behind me, watching me slap the puck into the net.

He comes up beside me and clamps his hand on my right shoulder. “I don’t know what changes you’ve made lately, but whatever it is, keep up the good work. I can already see an improvement.”

I nod, skating alongside him off the ice. “I’ll be ready for Penn State. So will Trent.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He pats my back, forcing me forward as we approach the locker room with the rest of my teammates.

“Make sure you keep up with your conditioning. No more screwing around until after we win another championship. You have a shot at the NHL, but it’s not guaranteed.

Not until you sign on the dotted line of a contract, and even then, you still have to work your ass off to stay there.

I got a phone call this morning… scouts will be at the Penn State game. ”

A smile turns up the corners of my mouth. “I’ll be ready, Coach. No more fucking off.”

We walk into the locker room, and Coach Bryant continues, “I remember your first tryout for the team. You reminded me so much of your father. But you’re not him.

You can be even better if you put in the work.

” He smiles. “You’re not the first player I’ve coached who will make it to the NHL, but you’re one of the most promising.

Most of the guys who make it can’t hack it. ”

“I won’t be one of them, Coach.”

“No, you won’t.” His tone is confident. “You need to get through this last season without disciplinary actions or injuries. Go hit the weight room and grab Trent on your way there.”

I drop off my gloves on the floor next to my locker. “You got it.”

Ten minutes later, I stroll through the gym doors with my brother and head into the weight room.

“I’ll spot you,” I tell Trent.

He sits on the weight bench, leaning forward to pick up two dumbbells. We lift silently for a few minutes, taking breaks between sets before Trent drops the dumbbells on the floor. He rests his elbows on his knees, his hair falling onto his sweaty forehead.

“Did you hear from the tutor?” he says, still catching his breath.

“No,” I spit back. “She read my messages but never responded.”

“You need to find someone else.”

I smirk. “She’s not getting away that easy. I gave her friend fifty dollars. I want the hour I paid for.”

He laughs. “Like you care about fifty bucks. Come on, Tuck, be serious.”

“It’s the principle. She said she’d tutor me. I paid for it. And now Sam and Eden probably laugh about getting one over on me.” I push my hands to my hips, nostrils flared in anger. “No one makes a fool of me.”

“You’re overreacting. Do you want a girl you fucked to tutor you, anyway? She doesn’t want to help you. Get over yourself and post a private tutoring job on Strick Net. Your pride can take a backseat if it means getting your grades up. If you fail, you’re off the team.”

“I know, Trent,” I growl. “Fuck, I know. I’m reminded every day by you and Preston. Am I not allowed to take a piss anymore without someone telling me what to do?”

He holds his arms up in defense and shrugs. “Look, Tuck, we’re only trying to help you. We want what’s best for you. We want you with us when we make it pro.”

“I’m not worried about it,” I assure him because I have it handled. “A stupid class will not come between me and my career. You should know that more than anyone. I don’t care what I have to do to make it happen.”

He looks at me from under his light brows with a strange expression but doesn’t speak. Even though Trent is younger than me by two minutes, he’s always been the more responsible twin.

I prefer to live my life and not sweat the dumb shit. But he’s right. I need to find another tutor or win Sam over.