Lovebirds

DUPE

Defense Practice.

The puck makes a satisfying chick as it hits the blade of his stick. Sits in the curve of the plastic, as if designed to reside there all along. Dashing furiously across the ice, he's followed by two opponents. He knows their names, but for now they're merely that: opponents.

Vince successfully fakes out a defender, shooting the puck in the gap between body and stick. Catches it past the player before catapulting it off the barrier wall to make it past the second defender. He makes a goal as they stand perplexed as to the whereabouts of the puck.

"You've gotta stop doing that," the second defense says, removing his helmet. Hugo.

"Why's that?"

"Because you have to give the other guys at least a chance of catching you. Otherwise the game's no fun. If everyone knew you were going to single-handedly defeat the opposing team, nobody would come! Have a million fans? Sure, but no one would come."

Skating up, "good play, Arthur."

"Thank you Dion," giving Hugo a pointed look and a wicked smile. Hugo rolls his eyes, beginning to skate toward the sidelines as Dion and Vincent follow.

"It's the college apps, I swear. Any other week and I would've caught that."

"Oh yeah, Wisconsin's due tomorrow, isn't it?" Vincent asks.

"Mmhmm. I have the essay all written, but I have no idea what I want to major in."

Dion's features morphing into confusion, "do they not let you go in undecided?"

"They have the option..."

"But?" Vincent presses.

"But I'd rather have something to follow— at least know what area I'd like to study."

The three boys plop down on the bench, weighed down by padding and sweat. Each grabs their water bottles, spraying themselves with nearly as much water as they drink.

"Any general ideas?" Dion asks, "a department you're thinking about?"

Hugo sits on this for a second. Props his elbow on his knee then his head upon his palm, staring out through the scratched-up plexiglass to the ice.

"Maybe something with computer science? My sister took a class on it a million years ago—"

"Scarlet?" Vincent interjects.

"Yeah Scarlet. Winnie was already in college. Anyway, she took this class once and came home so excited to show us all." He takes another swig of water. "Wasn't much more than block coding, but I still thought it was pretty cool. Got kinda obsessed for a while. But you know me and books: in through the head out through the a—"

"Alright team, off your rears! Get back out there—and Hugo, for the love of all that is good and great, don't let Vincent dupe you again!"

Hugo glares at Vince as he looks back from the ice, the latter a little too pleased with the indirect compliment. He's still sharing a playful glare as his eyes become hidden by his helmet.

Another round of practice begins, and beneath the heavy breaths—drowned by the excess of sweat that traces down his spine— Vincent is momentarily deaf to the whispering idea that puts Hugo and the hacker in the same black hoodie, walking down the halls to vandalize a locker...