Page 11 of Puck My Life

Vae bounces over, ignoring the protests of the boys, and stares up at me. She’s got the most beautiful green and gold eyes.

I’ve never seen anyone like her.

“You're mine now,” she says with a toothy grin.

Her words send a thrill through me.

“What’s your name?”

“Malcolm.”

“I’m going to call you Mal and keep you forever.”

The anxiety, the bubble that has been threatening to have me locked in tears, pops, and I relax into the words this little girl is saying.

I’m hers. Forever.

“Okay.”

Her smile makes the rain and my tears stop falling.

PRESENT

Deacon and I sit shoulder to shoulder, glaring towards the front of the room where the Scented Scorpion coaches are loitering. It’s a closed meeting with just the players, the coaches, and the owner.

Ominous.

I’m still reeling from Vae’s announcement two days ago. Fuck this meeting, I need to go find Vae and convince her she shouldn’t be leaving. Ever. Period.

Still, the way this has been called, the way everyone is gathered, leads me to believe one thing: whatever information we’re about to hear is going to be something that shakes the club up.

I instantly think of Vae again. I love hockey; it’s my life, but Vae is forever. We’re family. We’re the Lost Boys. I don’t understand why it has to change.

I rub my aching head, wishing I’d drank less and slept more. The lights in here are too bright, and the Scented Scorpion logo on the screens is making me feel ill as it bounces around like a screensaver.

Indy had gotten upset with me when I wasn’t happy about Vae leaving. It made me feel somewhat icky, the way she was acting. It’s the first time I’ve seen that side of Indy, and I didn’t like it.

Raynor and Deacon still aren’t talking; otherwise, I would have gone to them and explained Indy’s tantrum and asked them what to do.

Raynor isn’t talking to anyone. He’s refusing to come out of his room, instead living in the dark and playing those mournful songs of his that just depress the house. His bond lies icy cold inside me.

Everytime I think about Vae leaving, I get this ball in my chest that is both fizzy and so damn heavy. Change and I are not good bedfellows.

She can’t leave us. No, I’ll explain the situation, and she’ll stay. I know she’ll listen to reason.

I cross my arms as Marilyn approaches the front of the room, stopping in front of the podium. Now, here’s an alpha who is terrifying. Today she’s wearing a black shirt and a grey pencil skirt, but, I swear, this alpha could get out on the ice and wipe the floor with most of the team.

I glance around us; hardly any of the team are paying attention. Most of us have temper problems and are just plain aggressive. We’re struggling. I haven’t even played an official game for them yet, but in every practice, we are struggling.

We all know it, and our failure is just driving us all into even more aggressive tactics and lashing out at each other. It’s a toxic circle of alpha anger and feedback loops.

Why is the owner smirking at us? Why are the staff bracing as if they are getting ready for a fight?

“Thank you all for being here today. As most of you know, I’m Marilyn Mansfield, the director of PR for the Scented Scorpions.”

Yeah, pretty sure all of us know her or, if not know, we know of her. Her gaze sweeps across the room, and I feel a slight vibration from Deacon. I reach out, slamming a hand down on his thigh, stopping him from saying or doing anything stupid that might hurt us.

“This has been a rough season so far, and the press is essentially tearing you apart. I know that Coach Wallace and Mr. Durst have already made you awareof the repercussions of such a season. At this time, we need to take the threat of disbanding the team quite seriously.”