Loving the Quarterback

*Bonus Chapter 9*

Asher's POV

I take my position as left wing on the ice, bending my knees with my eyes on the puck. 

The team we're playing today are goddamn fuckers and I'm getting pissed off.

"Daddy's here cheering you on" the guy in front of me taunts . "I can hear the disappointment from here. The greatest football player in history has a shitty son playing left wing who can't tell the puck from his asshole"

I grind my teeth together, my grip on the stick tightening as I force my eyes on the puck.

"Damn mommy's hot as fuck" he continues in my ear. "I'd like to see how tight that pus-"

The whistle blows and I fucking loose it. Eyes no longer on the puck, I slam into the guy in front of me, pushing him out of my way and skating further down the ice.

"Foster what the fuck!" my center calls. The play was to pass the puck to me and I blew it.

"Head in the game Foster!" my coach bangs angrily on the plexiglass from the sidelines.

I shake my head. Get it together. Get it the fuck together.

I focus on blocking since I blew the play. Our center passes the puck to our right wing and he takes it down the ice, shooting for the goal but he misses it.

The game picks back up and I can feel the sweat dripping down my neck. My breathing is hard and I try to get the words out of my head. I can hear the disappointment from here. It's not true, not fucking true because I know my dad is proud of me. He tells me every day.

My eyes hone in on the puck, seeing an opening. I'm about to take it, positive that I can get my team a goal when my eyes snap over to my left and the same guy skates over to block me. 

Damn mommy's hot as fuck. I'd like to see how tight...

Don't fucking do it Asher. I grind my teeth, skating for the puck, but I hear his voice again.

"I'd take her nice and good from behind! Run a train on that sister of yours too, she's a hot topic in our locker room" he calls from behind me.

I pivot and skate at him full speed. Whistles blow and my coach yells but it's too late. I throw my stick to the side and slam into him. His helmet flies off as he hits the ground with me on top of him. I grab him by his jersey and slam my fist in his face.

Whistles blow but I continue to punch him.

"Hey!" someone comes from behind me and yanks me off. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" 

My center and best friend Grayson Carter yells in my face. Fighting isn't allowed in high school hockey, not even college hockey. This is my junior year, I can't afford the fuck ups.

A ref comes over and throws the flag. "Out of the game Foster"

Grayson just shakes his head and lets me go. It's not an important game, but it's still a game and I might've fucked it for all of us.

I skate off the ice and throw my stick on the ground, ignoring the stares as I head back to the locker rooms. As soon as I'm alone, with no one around to witness, I let it out.

"Fuck!" I scream, taking off my helmet and throwing it into a locker.

I try, I try my damn hardest to be the one kid my parents don't have to worry about. Will is a perfectionist which comes with its own set of problems, Misha has bad anxiety, Emilia has intermittent explosive disorder, my own twin has anger issues and he's always riled up over something. They have too much shit to worry about to have to worry about me too.