Finding Hearts

Chapter 7

CALLUM

"Alright everybody, get a move on. We're here to train for Nationals, people. Not on holiday", I shout, making my voice echo in the halls. Apart from the guys, coach and I, no one else decided to spend their Friday morning on the ice.

I'm always looking forward to training, since ice hockey is what I love. I seriously love it. There isn't one time that I can remember in my life when hockey hasn't been my passion. It all started as Dad took me to watch one game of the New York Rangers when I was five. Although I can't remember much from that age, I remember that game. The lights as we entered the stadium. The sudden chill in the temperature. The people fussing around. Then the game started. The hockey sticks clenching, the dynamics of the game... I was fascinated. Over at my house, there is still the picture of me, nose glued to the glass, merch scarf around my neck, watching the game. Mom said this is how it all began, so that's why she also loves the picture so much. On the other hand, I can't say she's much of a fan of me wanting to go pro and become a hockey player. The more time I invest in hockey, and the more serious I got about the game, the worse got the injuries. I once had a bruise on my hand as someone accidentally hurt me with the blade of the skate. I was fourteen and my hand couldn't stop bleeding. My Coach from then drove me to the hospital where I got sewed. My parents came pick me up there, faces pale as they saw the damage. I still have the scar from the operation on my forearm. Luckily, not many can see it, since it's rather up, on my shoulder, so it's usually covered by the T-Shirt. However, even if this would be the hardest and most painful one of my accidents, it's just one of many. Which is why when I told my parents I got an offer from THE New York Rangers, the one team that got me into hockey in the first place, to start rehearsing with them this Summer and come play with them next year after I graduated, the reaction was a mixture of joy and fear. Joy for my dream coming true and what I achieved. And fear for what might happen.

I said yes nevertheless. A chance like that comes once in a lifetime.

"Chill, Cap", Henry's voice brings me back to reality. He's in his jersey, his last name "TORRES" and his number 81 on the back. He always jokes about us being soulmates. He's 81, I'm 18. I don't know about that soulmates crap, but I do feel hella grateful to have him here.

"I'm chill", I bark back, clearly not chill.

Henry rolls his eyes and tells Hannes, our goalie, to keep going. He then skates over to me, and pats my back.

"Life sucks, huh?", he begins, yet not really emphatically, but rather mockingly.

"Fuck you", I respond.

"Woah there. I was just saying hi", he tells me. He takes off his helmet and goes with a hand through his dark hair. Henry's Mom is Brazilian, hence why the Latina last name, since his Dad took over his Mom's name; and she's the one he got most of his features from. Tanned body, dark hair and eyes. Henry is one of the girls'favourites, fact my best friend really profits from to the max.

He starts skating off the ice, making me follow him. As we arrive at the margin, he sinks on the bench and takes out his water bottle, drinking half of it at once. I figure out we're not going to do much training today, thanks to his gossip mood, so I also take off my helmet and jersey, remaining only in the black compression shirt I was wearing.

"I screwed up", I say, sinking on the bench next to him.

He looks up, not surprised. "Asshole", I hiss. He chuckles, and I hit him in the rib cage. Hard.

"Okay, sorry", he teases. "No need to kill your best friend. Like seriously, man. Show some respect."

"You want respect?", doing a rather vulgar gesture at him.