Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 56(@200wpm)___ 45(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)
He said that.
Day one.
He may be a nice guy off the ice, a family man who loves hard, but on the ice, he is the boss. We will be our best, or again, get the fuck off the ice. It’s that simple, which is why it’s hard for me not to be on every time I skate on this ice. I want my dream. The NHL.
I was blessed with the opportunity to live and train with the greatest hockey family in the world, the Adlers. Being in the USA, not only do I miss my family in Quebec, but I am reminded daily why I am here. The NHL. That’s it. I come from a very poor background, and the only reason I was able to play hockey, a very expensive sport, is because of town funding. Thankfully, I’m a natural talent, and then I was lucky enough to be chosen by the Adlers through a billet program for hockey players who want to play in the USA.
Things have been moving a million miles a second since I arrived here. It’s been a whirlwind, but I love the US and I love hockey. Plus, the food is good and the girls are hot. As I go top shelf on our goalie, hitting the back of the net, I skate back, jumping on the defense. This is endurance training; we don’t stop. We continue to play, and though I can’t breathe, I won’t give up. As I skate back, I notice a very special someone sitting in the stands. My billet mom, Elli Adler. She is a proud mom of five—and then me. I swear, the moment I came into her home, I was her child. She has learned French for me, and while she’s not that good, I still appreciate the gesture. She has done it mostly to communicate with my mom and dad. She cooks all my favorite foods and doesn’t make me do my own laundry. My parents love her, and I do too. Very much so.
I flash her a grin, but only for a second before my eyes are back on the play. When a teammate tries to deke around me, I poke check the puck and carry it up the ice on a breakaway, hitting the back of the net with ease. It’s kind of unfair that I’m up against the backup goalie, but I’m enjoying the goals. It’s the end of the year, and most teams aren’t practicing at all, but Coach Sinclair says hockey is a year-round sport. He may be onto something. I’m used to taking breaks, but I can tell I’m getting better with the extra ice time.
I am going home in a few weeks for the summer, but Elli and Coach have already set up transportation and coaching for the next town over. I’ll train all summer while still working on my family’s llama farm.
Things weren’t good when my family found out I was coming to America. They wanted me to play in Canada, but I needed to get out. My brothers played, but I had to go. Since I’ve been gone, though it’s taken time, we’ve smoothed everything over and are speaking again.
It’ll be a busy summer, but I’m looking forward to it. I like having things to do. Our town has three hundred people, and the next-closest farm is twenty-four miles away. It can get lonely at home. Especially now that only my mom and dad are there since my other brothers have moved away.
When the whistle blows, I skate back into the boards, sucking air so I don’t fall over. Most mirror me as Coach comes to the middle of the ice, nodding. “Great job. Very proud of y’all. Listen, hydrate before you get off the ice, and then hit the showers. We have morning skate and then dinner tomorrow to say goodbye. Make sure you let me know if you’re staying this summer if you haven’t already. Have a good day.”
He smacks his stick to the ice, and we do the same before we all slowly head to the bench to hydrate. I lean on the boards, knowing if I sit down, I may not get up. My legs are Jell-O.
I squirt a heavy flow of Gatorade into my mouth as Philly Reilcango leans into me. With labored breath, he says, “Hey, isn’t that your girly friend?”
I follow the direction he is looking, and I see her standing by the entrance to the rink.
Cameron.
I don’t know her last name, mainly because we really don’t talk about our lives outside of school. We talk about our college classes, sports, and then we hook up. I like her a lot; I want to date her, but she says she’s not really into that. She’s pretty focused on school, and neither of us wants to do long-distance during the summer. I thought when we hooked up last week, that was our goodbye; I’m actually surprised she’s here. I’m sort of alarmed by how good it is to see her. She’s gorgeous, with long, flowing blond hair and deep brown eyes. She reminds me of a porcelain doll. So pretty and fair.