The Hockey Boy

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

EASTON

November 11

It was 7:45 a.m. when I lugged my huge Easton duffle bag into the locker room.

"My aren't you early?" joked Sakku Virtanen, the captain of the Blizzard.

"Hey, I decided to wake up ten minutes earlier. Can't a guy do that?" I defended as I began to put my gear on. Sakku was always on my case, no matter what they day and time were.

"It was just a question, West," Virtanen almost spat. "I was just noticing your unusual earliness. Normally you don't show up for 8 a.m. pre-game practice until two minutes before. Don't be so defensive."

"Sorry, Virtanen, I'm just a little on edge today," I huffed as I turned to face him and the other guys. When they saw my face, they all gasped.

"Dude, what happened?" asked Brett Kemp, one of our goalies.

"Your eye is basically swollen shut!" exclaimed Erik Laine, a center.

"Well, I uh..." I started, trying to make something up quickly. "My dog accidentally jumped on my face."

"Your dog jumped on your face?" questioned Dylan Fanti, our other goalie, confusedly.

"Yeah, her paw packed a big punch," I lied quickly.

"Well, I'm going out there," said Virtanen, changing the subject. "You guys hurry up. You have two minutes!" All the other guys followed him except for Ryan Erickson, a defenseman, and me.

"Easton, what really happened?" asked Ryan.

"I don't want to talk about it," I mumbled.

"A Pomeranian is not a big dog, certainly not big enough to give you a black eye," said Ryan doubtfully.

"Don't underestimate Gretzky," I argued, but Ryan just gave me a look. "Fine, I got whacked in the eye with a hockey stick."

"Who whacked you?" he exclaimed.

"Well, I mean 'whacked' is kind of a strong word. Long story short, I got into a tug-of-war with a hockey stick with Ty Brady."

"You mean that hockey player from Blaine? He's amazing. He could probably make the pros, to be honest," Ryan said.

"He's a she," I said simply.

"Wait, Ty's a girl?" asked Ryan confusedly.

"Yeah, and she plays hockey better than most guys. Heck, she's probably the best high school hockey player in the country!"

"Whoa," said Ryan. "I would've never guessed she's a girl."

"Yeah, and she made me look like an idiot whenever Andover played Blaine," I explained as Ryan gave me a look.

"You are an idiot."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered. I finished lacing up my skates and grabbed my stick for practice. I could feel Ryan's eyes on me, but I refused to look at him.

"You like her." It was a statement, not a question.

"No..." I said, lying, but Ryan gave me a look. "Yes. Man, she's amazing. She's got this long, light brown hair and these piercing blue eyes. She's huge too! Like over six feet! I'll probably never see her again, though."

"Why not? You know where she goes to school, right? You said Blaine. Why don't you just look up their hockey schedule? You could go watch some of her games," suggested Ryan.

"Man, you're a genius!" I exclaimed.

"And obviously you're not," muttered Ryan under his breath.

"Hey!" I protested.