Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“Game night,” Jude hollers when he walks into the kitchen. He’s fully dressed and I’m questioning whether he just completed the walk of shame or he’s actually ready to go for the day.
“Yeah, it is!” I high-five Jude. “Castle is going down.”
“Skidmore isn’t going to know what hit them,” Nolan says.
“Well, clearly not you,” Thea adds. The three of us look at her in utter confusion. She takes a sip of her coffee and takes a long-ass time swallowing. “You know, since you guys can’t hit and all.”
“Pshaw,” Jude spits out. “We can hit, we just can’t fight.”
“And we pinch,” Nolan says.
I slug him in the shoulder. “Don’t be telling our secrets.”
Thea’s eyes go wide, until the three of us start cracking up. “That was mean. I know you can’t pinch anyone because you wear gloves so why did you say that?”
“Because you’re gullible,” Jude says. He walks over to his sister and tugs on a clump of hair sticking wildly out of her bun.
“Am not,” she says, but deep down she knows she is. We can tease her and she’s okay with it. Jude and Nolan leave the kitchen and I use this opportunity to stay near Thea.
“Thanks for dinner last night. On a full stomach I was able to stay up and finish my paper.”
“That’s good,” she says. Gone is her sweet “you’re welcomes” and the notes she used to leave for me.
I inhale deeply and try again. “Would you like to ride with me to campus?”
Thea turns the faucet on and allows her mug to fill with water before dumping it out. “I think I’m okay to walk.”
“That’s dumb. We both have class at nine, in the same building. Why would you walk?”
Thea doesn’t say anything. I move closer to her. Our hips touch. I set my coffee cup down into the sink and when her hand reaches for the faucet, I set mine on top of hers. She doesn’t pull away, at least not at first. What I wouldn’t give to touch her again, like the night she spent in my bed. If there weren’t so many extra ears around, always listening, I’d blurt out everything I want to say, but I can’t. She can’t know how sorry I am until I get her alone and she’s done everything in her power to keep that from happening.
“Thea.” Her name, coming from my mouth, is smooth and sweet. “Let me drive you to school.”
She says nothing. Instead, she turns and walks away. I don’t know how long I stay in the kitchen, but it’s long after she’s walked out the front door.
I’m the first one on the ice. The clock reads ninety minutes. An hour and half until game time. I stand there and stare at it until it starts ticking off the seconds. The other team is in the visitor locker room hyping themselves up to take us on. They have nothing to prove, and we have everything to lose. I look up and count the twenty banners hanging from the rafters. There are just two years, in the last twenty-two, when we haven’t won the conference championship. This is how long NU has been a prominent force in men’s hockey. At the other end of the arena, where the doors to the concession stand are, four national championship banners fly, along with two for our women’s team. Players come here to play for the best, and to be the best. There is nothing mediocre about our program. To win is an expectation and one we’ve put on ourselves.
The rest of my team comes out. We skate around the ice a few times and then break off into groups to stretch or practice moves. The sound system blares “Enter Sandman” by Metallica, and I smile.
“You know this is your new nickname, right?” Jude hollers toward me.
“Yeah, I heard.”
“It’s because he’s killing everyone on the ice,” Marty blurts out. I’ll gladly take his definition over the actual meaning of the song any day. After five minutes, we switch. Jude is in goal and we’re firing shots at him. Nothing too aggressive because we don’t want him exerting himself before he has to, but enough to warm him up. When the horn sounds, we leave the ice and head back to the locker room for a twenty-minute chat. We go over strategy, who is guarding who, what plays we are going to run, and the line switch. When we get the signal from our manager, we head back out with me leading the pack.
I stand at the door, leading to our bench. When the lights go down and the music starts, the team files out, one by one. I give everyone a high-five as they pass by, with me being the last one on the ice. I do one half loop and then line up on the line, facing the American flag. After the anthem is sung, the line-ups are announced, and it’s time to drop the puck.