In the heart of Harvard, Alessia Gilmore is ready to embrace her second year and the independence it brings. After a summer spent reconnecting with friends and discovering herself, she's determined to step out of her twin sister Rory's shadow and ca...
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The second period began with even more ferocity than the first. The puck dropped, and both teams surged forward, colliding in a flurry of sticks and skates. The Hawks were quick, weaving through the Lions' defense with sharp passes and clean plays. Riley and Beau led the charge, their movements seamless as they drove the puck deep into the opposing zone.
Julie, the Hawks' goalkeeper, stayed sharp in the net. The Lions' offensive line was ruthless, peppering her with rapid shots, but she deflected each one with precision, her focus unwavering.
Beau, however, was playing with a recklessness that was hard to ignore. He darted into every corner battle with wild determination, taking hits without flinching and chasing the puck as if his life depended on it. He threw himself into plays with a dangerous edge, pushing through checks that should have sent him sprawling. Riley shot him a few concerned glances, but Beau just grinned, his energy chaotic and relentless.
Marcus, wearing the Lions' number 24, commanded the ice with an intimidating presence. His movements were deliberate, his hits heavy. Every time he came near Avery, the air seemed to grow colder.
Avery darted toward the puck, narrowly avoiding a swipe from one of Marcus' teammates. He skated down the rink, looking for an opening, but before he could react, Marcus swooped in. The hit wasn't illegal, but it was hard enough to send Avery stumbling into the boards.
"Watch it, Parker," Marcus muttered as he skated by, his voice low enough that only Avery could hear.
Avery pushed himself up, his jaw clenched. He didn't respond, but the fury in his chest grew with every passing moment.
On the Hawks' bench, Quinn noticed the exchange, his sharp eyes catching the way Avery's hands trembled as he adjusted his gloves. Quinn didn't say anything-he knew Avery wouldn't appreciate it-but the tension was palpable.
The game continued at a breakneck pace. Riley stole the puck near center ice, zigzagging past two defenders before passing to Beau, who fired a shot on goal. The Lions' goalie blocked it, but barely, the puck bouncing off his pads.
Quinn retrieved the rebound and passed back to Avery, who skated up to the blue line. He wound up for a slapshot, but before he could take it, Marcus barreled into him. The collision sent Avery sprawling, the puck sliding harmlessly into the corner.
"Get up, brother," Marcus taunted, leaning down briefly as he skated past.
Avery gritted his teeth and got to his feet, his movements stiff but determined. He skated back into position, ignoring the ache in his shoulder from the hit.
Meanwhile, Beau continued to throw himself into every play with reckless abandon. He sprinted after a loose puck, diving to keep it in the zone despite a heavy check from one of Marcus' burly teammates. He skidded across the ice but scrambled to his feet without hesitation, barking orders to his teammates as if nothing had happened.
As the period wore on, the Lions' defense tightened, and their offense became more aggressive. One of Marcus' burly teammates-number 55-delivered a brutal check to Beau, sending him crashing into the boards.
"Cheap shot!" Riley shouted, skating up to defend Beau, but the refs didn't call anything.
"You good?" Quinn asked Beau as he helped him up.
"Yeah," Beau grunted, shaking it off. "I'm fine, that hardly hurt."
The Hawks pushed back harder, determined to even the score. Leo intercepted a pass and sent the puck flying down the ice to Riley, who deked past two defenders and scored with a quick wrist shot. The crowd erupted as the Hawks celebrated, their energy renewed.
But the Lions weren't done. With only a minute left in the second period, Marcus passed to number 55, who launched a rocket of a shot past Julie, tying the game at 1-1.
The third period was a battle of endurance. Both teams fought relentlessly, their bodies colliding in a brutal display of athleticism. Marcus continued to target Avery, delivering subtle but punishing hits whenever he had the chance.
"Keep your head up, Parker," Marcus said after one particularly hard shove into the boards.
Avery didn't respond, but the fire in his eyes was unmistakable. He skated harder, faster, determined to prove he wasn't backing down.
With only thirty seconds left in the game, Riley and Beau orchestrated a perfect play. Riley faked a shot, drawing the goalie out of position, and passed to Beau, who sent the puck flying toward the open net. The Lions' goalie made a miraculous save, the puck barely deflecting off his stick.
The final buzzer sounded, and the game ended in a 1-1 draw. Both teams skated off the ice, their faces a mix of exhaustion and frustration.
As the Hawks gathered near the locker room, Riley clapped Avery on the back. "You held your own out there, Avery. Nice work."
Avery managed a small smile, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't shake the feeling of Marcus' eyes on him, the weight of their unspoken history pressing heavily on his shoulders.
Quinn walked up beside him as they headed inside. "You okay?"
Avery hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."
Quinn didn't press further. He knew Avery well enough to recognize when to back off. But as the team filtered into the locker room, Quinn glanced over at Marcus, who lingered near the exit, watching Avery with an expression that was impossible to read.
Whatever was going on between them, Quinn knew it wasn't over.
