Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens

Fourteen

Wolfe

Practice is whipping my ass. I’ve been out on a light jog this week, plus I’ve been working my body in the gym, and I still feel like my chest is going to burst from the exertion of running drills.

“Come on, Judd,” Coach Ramirez shouts. He wants me moving faster. “You want to join our games, give me all you got.”

He’s gone from telling me to take it easy to being a drill sergeant.

“We’ve got an important game tomorrow night, men. We need to divide the winners from the losers. The countdown to the Frozen Four is on and we will not face elimination. The Saklan Bulldogs are the reigning champions. We want their spot,” Coach says.

The guys on the team cheer. Fuck, I wish I could play tomorrow night, but I know that isn’t on the table yet.

Coach Cooper divides us up, then comes around and discusses some plays Saklan is known for. He gives each of us a job and then we play competitively against the other team. It’s a training technique that has worked well for us in the past. Coach Ramirez and Coach Cooper have the rep they do because they are badass, and a lot of Westfall’s hockey players get called up to the draft.

We take our spots on the ice. Damn, it feels good to be back. These past few months, I’ve felt like something vital was missing from my life, and now I know it was this. The cool air of the arena. My blades slicing across the ice, the speed, adrenaline. There’s nothing like it.

Coach Cooper blows the whistle. He put me on center and I’m facing off against Dec.

“Want to suck my balls?” Dec asks.

“Why do you have to be so fucking crude?” I ask. He can be such an idiot.

“Because I’m playing as your opponent now.” He winks. I swear, sometimes I worry about the dude. We met our first year on the team and he became good friends with Cole and me. That’s why we decided to rent the house together by second year.

“Jackass,” I say.

The whistle blows and we both want to hit the puck, but I get a better shot and it flies across the ice. I chase it down, enjoying the speed of skating swiftly across the ice. I was worried that my leg would start hurting if I pushed too hard, but I don’t feel a thing. Thompson is playing right wing and he swoops in to steal the puck from Cole. The puck flies across the ice and Baynard tries to steal it, but I stick handle my way around him, keeping my eye on the net, and I shoot. The puck flies straight into the net and I lose it. I full on cheer myself.

The guys on my team skate by me giving me fist bumps.

“Glad you haven’t lost it, Judd,” Coach says. Coming from him, those words mean a lot.

“Does that mean I get to play Saklan?” I ask, because I hate the fact that a freshman has taken my spot on the team. The kid is good. He was thinking of entering the draft at eighteen, but then decided he should get a college degree so he has something to fall back on. Still, it stings to watch someone else in my position.

“That isn’t a good idea, Wolfe,” he replies. “You’re just getting back on the ice. You should build your endurance. Let’s see how the rest of the week goes.”

I can’t argue. It won’t get me anywhere. Even though my stomach sinks. This sucks.

We go through a few more plays on opposing teams and I skate my ass off. After practice, we all head to the locker room to shower.

“You did good, asshole. Glad to have you back,” Cole says, smacking my ass with a towel.

“Thanks, man. It felt good.” I don’t mention anything about the freshman Bozeman taking my spot, because I’m captain. I need to support the team, not feel jealous or threatened.

Baynard starts talking about a party being held at one of the frat houses tonight. He’s trying to recruit some of the guys.

“That’s a shitty plan,” I interject. “You guys should stay sober tonight. Coach needs you clear for the game tomorrow night.”

“He has a point,” Dec says. His support surprises me because he’s usually the first to want to get smashed.

I raise my brows.

“What? We need to cream them tomorrow,” he growls.

The guys around us cheer a bunch of “fuck yeahs” and “let’s show them.”

“We got this, Judd,” Baynard says to me. “No way are we letting them win. We got to make the Frozen Four,” he says and fist bumps me.

“We’re taking the championship this year. We’ve just got to focus,” I say.

The guys around me agree. Even Bozeman seems pumped. The team is filled with players who want to play in the NHL. Westfall’s hockey team has that kind of rep. By March, most of the school gets into the hockey spirit. Every year, there are a number of players who sort of become celebrities on campus. Everyone knows who they are and what prospects they have of drafting.

The guys break apart and I get dressed. I have a full load of classes today.

“Are you going to come to the game?” Bozeman asks.

I don’t talk to the kid very much. He isn’t really a kid, but I call him that in my head to make myself feel better. I’ve been to most of the games since I was injured. I still need to know the players on the other teams and find their weaknesses while getting to know their style of play.

“No,” I shake my head. I want to see Rebel, which is messed up that I want to prioritize her over hockey.

“Cool.” He nods. “I… uh…” He scratches his head.

“What? Spit it out,” I say.

“My ex is dating their right winger. We were together for four years in high school. I think it may be awkward,” he explains.

“Awkward how?” I ask.

“She broke up with me at prom and uh… she went for him, and I kind of broke his nose. He may have gotten the girl, but he’s pissed at me,” Bozeman says.

“The angst should make for a good game on the ice. You lost the girl. You don’t want to lose the game too,” I tell him.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, she asked me if I loved her at prom, and I didn’t, so I couldn’t lie. I shouldn’t be pissed about her taking off on me. Not after we were together for so long,” Bozeman says.

“Is there more to this story?” I ask, because I don’t get his hesitation.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’m just in a weird funk. The game will be fine.”

“Good.” I clap him on the back. “You’ve been handling yourself well out there. Keep it up.”

“Thanks.” He nods. Bozeman is shy. He’s a damned good player, but something is going on with him and I can’t put my finger on it.

“Good luck with the game. You got this,” I say.

“Word is that you’re a real asshole, but you’re a good fucking captain,” he says.

I laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He laughs too, and I grab my things and we leave the locker room. I head out to my car and Cole catches up to me.

“What’s up?” I ask him, since I know my best friend has something on his mind.

“Are we going to talk about what the hell is going on with you and Rebel?” he asks when we’re in the parking lot out of ear shot of the other guys.

“She isn’t up for discussion.” The steely look I throw his way backs up my words.

“Look, you and I have been friends a long time, and I’m telling you this is some messed-up shit,” he says.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, and I don’t think I want to know either.” I side-eye him.

“I’m talking about the fact that you’re trying to make yourself feel better about Cait by somehow… I don’t even know what you’re doing with that chick.” Cole’s exasperation shows on his face.

Anger pulses through my veins. I don’t think Cole and I have ever gotten into a fight, but there’s a first time for everything.

I grab him by his collar. “Don’t fucking talk about her.” I practically spit in his face. I don’t know what’s come over me, but he’s crossed a line.

“Holy shit.” His eyes widen. “Do not tell me you’re fucking her.”

I release his collar and shove him away. “I’m done here.”

“This is some fucked-up shit, Wolfe. Even for you,” he calls after me, but I don’t answer. Well, actually I do. I give him the bird and walk away.