Page 4

KAYDEN

“ Y ou played like a wuss out there.”

Erik looked a little stunned, an expression shared by Canucks everywhere, I’m pretty sure. I flagged him down near the food court because he’d disappeared from the locker room so fast. When I caught up with him, I realized he’d been wearing AirPods and hadn’t heard a thing I’d said.

He removed a pod. “What?”

“I said you played like a wuss out there.”

“Coming from you, I’ll wear that as a badge of honor.”

“Please tell me you’re not being serious.”

No answer from Mister Cream Puff. He kept on walking, and I continued following. Maybe he had a class to get to or something he considered pressing, but I didn’t give a crap. I would keep on him and make sure he heard me.

Maybe I sounded a little preoccupied by Erik, but I had a good reason.

He’d already become a distraction and could become a thorn in my side all season if I didn’t shut him down now.

Why was he a problem, you ask? He still hadn’t taken his lock off my locker.

I’ll give him credit, though. No one else would’ve had the balls to defy me twice and then try to ignore me later.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not calling that a good thing, but he was braver than I’d thought—or stupider.

“Silent treatment, huh?” I asked. “Figures.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your deal, anyway? The regular season will be here before you know it. You want to go out there and win, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you’ve got to show everyone you’re made of tougher material than that.”

“This again? Look, Coach Hardison hasn’t said there’s anything wrong with how I play. Matter of fact, he’s applauded me.”

“It isn’t just about what Coach Hardison says, dude. Team leadership counts for a lot too. I’m telling you that you play like a wuss.”

“Wake up and smell the coffee, Kayden. You’re not team leadership and you never will be. Besides, I could say plenty about the way you play the game.”

“Damn right, you can. You saw me in action. That’s exactly the way you go out there and play hockey.”

“You play like a maniac, dude.”

“I’ll wear that as a badge of honor.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“And why not?”

“Because there’s no pride in that. You play like someone who has no control. When people lose their heads, they start making mistakes, and the whole team suffers.”

“Bullshit. It means I have a take-no-prisoners attitude.”

“Is that what you told the cops when they were loading you into the police cruiser?”

The little asshole stuck the pod back in his ear and tried to walk away. If I let him, he would get the last word in again. I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He thought he was so smart, but I was going to put him in his place right now.

“Shut up,” I said.

“No.”

“I told you the charges were dropped.”

“Who cares? You’ve still got a reputation for something you could’ve controlled.”

“What, are you going to give me that Court of Public Opinion crap?”

“No, I’m just saying it doesn’t matter that the charges were dropped. You still lost your head like an animal. At least that’s the story that’s been going around campus.”

“Well, maybe I should set the record straight.”

“Go ahead.”

“I was out with some friends at Mister Goodbar on Elmwood Avenue one night. I was minding my own business when this punk approached my table. I’m telling you he had more swagger than he knew what to do with.

He wanted to fight, and I wouldn’t give him the time of day.

For your information, I didn’t just march out there and fight him.

I thought the whole thing was stupid. I didn’t even know who he was, we didn’t have a history, nothing like that. No need to get crazy.”

“So, why did you beat his brains in?”

“He just wouldn’t drop it. I just reached a point where I’d had enough. Besides, he’d made it pretty obvious he wasn’t going away without getting his fight, and I just caved. We went outside and threw down.”

“See? That’s really stupid.”

“No, it wasn’t. I made sure I had backup first.”

He rolled his eyes as if to say that wasn’t the point.

Why was I even telling him this? I hadn’t even told my other teammates or friends about what’d happened.

Of course, they all knew. Word had spread like crazy, and Larkin University found out before the bars slammed shut.

I was in Coach Hardison’s office practically the moment I stepped out of the holding cell, and I’d had some big questions to answer.

All at once, I saw my hopes and dreams of being a professional hockey player swirl down the drain.

I mean, I technically had some hope. I hadn’t started anything, and Coach Hardison seemed way more understanding than I’d expected.

He didn’t cut me from the team or rescind my scholarship.

He did make sure I understood that my days as a Larkin Lion would be numbered if I got in trouble again. Believe me, I hung on every word that left his mouth.

When you think about it, Erik hadn’t been wrong. No, no, wait. Fuck that. I couldn’t concede to him, not even privately. The moment I started agreeing with Erik De Ruiter, I would wind up as much of a cream puff as him.

I felt like I had to tell Erik, compelled, like his stupid comment had made an explanation necessary.

That was bad news too. He’d gotten under my skin just like that punk at Mister Goodbar had.

No, I wouldn’t rearrange his face for him like I’d done to that other guy.

See? I had a lot more self-control than Erik would ever admit I had.

“Part of being a leader is setting a good example,” he said. “And part of setting a good example is making smart decisions.”

“Where did you get that, dude? Mister Rogers ? ”

He half-smiled, not shaking his head exactly, but showing enough body language to say he found my comeback stupid…and that I was stupid. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if he would have the same fate as the Mister Goodbar punk.

“Look,” Erik said, “it’s obvious we don’t get along. Probably never will.”

I clapped a hand to my cheek. “No kidding.”

“But you’re my teammate. You’re a hothead and a knuckle-dragger, but you’re still my teammate, so I’m going to plug my nose and try to get along with you.”

“Hothead. Knuckle-dragger. Plug your nose. De Ruiter, you’re doing a kickass job at getting along with me, you know that?”

“You’re the one that stopped me off the ice. I didn’t want to talk to you. So, that’s your own fault. From now on…”

I arched my eyebrows at Erik, waiting for him to finish that sentence with some version of how we shouldn’t talk to each other. That or he would push whatever shit he’d learned in some self-help seminar.

“From now on what?”

“From now on, it would be best for us not to bother talking to each other unless it’s on the ice. And when we are on the ice, you make sure your tongue stays nice and civil.”

“Says the guy who just insulted me three times.”

Nothing registered with that kid. You know how I knew?

He started walking ahead of me before the sentence had completely left my mouth.

The nerve! I sprinted to catch up with him.

I had to get the last word. It’s that simple.

If I didn’t, Erik would win, and I already felt like the stakes had reached the sky.

“Look,” I said, “I stand by everything I said.”

“Then maybe you’d like to put your money where your mouth is.”

“A bet? On what?”

“We’ve got an exhibition game coming up, don’t we?”

“Against Rochester U, yeah.”

“I’m not changing the way I play this game for you or anyone else. I’m gonna go and play hockey my way. You play your way if you want to. We’ll see who wins that game.”

“Wait, you’re not really betting on us to lose, are you?”

He half-smiled again. “I’m betting on my own play. If I outscore you, I win the bet. If you outscore me, you win.”

“This makes no sense to me.”

“I doubt anything does. Listen, why don’t we just shake on it, so I can get to class?”

“How can I shake on anything? You haven’t told me the wager.”

“Twenty bucks.”

“Twenty bucks? That’s it?”

“We’re college students, Kayden. Nobody’s getting rich until I’m in the NHL.”

“Until I’m in the NHL, pal.”

Maybe Erik thought I was a total dummy, but I noticed what he’d tried to do there.

He stuck his hand out like he had all the confidence in the world that he would whip me in this bet. I shook it because I had all the confidence in the world that he was a wimp and would embarrass himself the moment he played any real competition.

When we shook hands, I noticed his eyes.

No, wait, that’s not right. I noticed something about his eyes that made me pause.

At first, I didn’t know what to call it.

His eyes were blue, but this was more than just a color.

Before the exchange ended, I realized that his blue eyes looked like a field of ice crystals.

Yeah, yeah, I know how crazy that sounds.

It’s like a novel where the author says a character has “eyes like the ocean” or some shit.

And another thing: his eyes were piercing. They grabbed my attention and held it. I hoped to God I hadn’t stood there staring deeply into them—especially if I could be caught—but I felt like they’d enveloped me.

Finally, Erik said, “Okay, you’re on,” and I snapped to attention like I’d drifted off into a dream.

I couldn’t respond. At first, it felt like a brain freeze, but with everything that’d happened, I couldn’t be sure. I tried moving my lips, wanting to destroy him with some witty remark, but I swore my jaw had been wired shut. And I felt weak, helpless.

Normally, I would’ve worried about looking like a complete idiot, but I’m sure Erik De Ruiter would’ve had no problem pointing that out to me.

When he left, I tried to forget the whole thing, like nothing had happened.

I mean, what was I doing looking into or even thinking about another guy’s eyes anyway?