Rival Morality BxB

2

The day went off without a hitch; school passed dreadfully slow. But, I could feel the buzz of excitement walking down the hallway. Tryouts for Westfield High were tonight.

I want feeling particularly well rested, but luckily for me, my spot was secured as the captain. I was to start drills and help Coach spot talented players.

I warmed up the newbies with a few skating drills, testing their footwork and a second to test each in every position.

Once everyone headed back to the locker room, a few of my friends who were on the team and I stayed behind to talk to Coach.

"Shelby and Crew are a pretty good offensive duo for sophomores," Casey, my best friend, offered to Coach Connors. He pushed a hand through his damp red hair, leaving it sticking up at odd angles.

"Yeah, but it looks like they learned to skate yesterday," added Warren. His large build slouched forward, leaning onto the barricade between them. "Plus, I don't want to take anymore hits after last year's season."

Warren is our team's goalie and as amazing as he is, it's helpful to have a good defensive line. Last years defensive partners were seniors and a last choice. Due to seniority, Connors felt he couldn't give the position to two freshman after the senior pair had been riding the bench for three years, as much as he wanted to give it to them. The chosen defensemen frequently failed their duties on the ice, causing Warren to take far too many hits and shots.

"They'll get better," I input, "They deserve spots after they were passed over last year."

The coach nods, "I agree. You boys go get changed. Oliver, we'll talk later."

"Yes coach," the three of us say in unison and then exit the rink, peeling off our jerseys as we enter the changing room.

"Late night?" Casey starts the locker room banter.

"You look like shit, Ol." Warren says in his normal monotone, teasing voice.

I ignore them walk to the other side of the bench; they follow suit.

Warren opens the locker next to his, "Heard Kane stopped by last night."

I raised an eyebrow, "How did you know that?"

"I know everything."

"Clearly."

"So?"

I sighed at the unasked question, "Wasn't as bad as usual to be honest. Kept me late after my shift and left a juicy thirteen cent tip."

"I don't like that guy," the redhead scoffs.

"Tell me about," I shoot back.

I watched them leave, pretending I left my gear on benches outside, and waited for the sound of tires squealing before I moved.

I threw on my hoodie and tied my laces back up and headed back to the rink. I drifted around the ice, hands in the pocket of my hoodie.

A clamor broke the peaceful silence as the Eagles practice ended and the players filed out.

It was like Rowan had a second sense for me. Immediately our eyes met and he made a beeline towards me. His hand clenched around his purple and gold jersey, the words "Oaks Eagles" just barely readable.

"Good thing you're staying afterwards, you need the extra practice," he sneered.

I stick my tongue out, mocking the boy's expression. "That's a lot of talk, coming from you."

Rowan stepped on the ice, skating after me. "Go make me a milkshake, sparky."

"I don't think I should. It's not doing much for your figure."