Thin Ice

chapter two

I have contemplated murder five times today in total, and only three of those instances were for Tristan.

Honestly, after the last couple of very trying days, that's progress. Of course, the other two were toward Hunter, and both were because he tried stopping me from killing Tristan. Caleb offered to help me get past the old fart, but Tyler was all too willing to help his co-captain contain me, and I don't like those odds. Caleb is a lover, not a fighter, and even at my angriest I can't take on both Tyler and Hunter.

That leaves Tristan to smirk and gloat and taunt me with his stupid fucking face and his worshipping freshmen and his inability to leave me the hell alone. His goddamn voice mocks me even in my own head, calling me weak or emotional or unfit for the job. Even after three months together doing preseason workouts with the other guys, he still has yet to accept me and my role on the team, and I have yet to successfully kill him. Overall, its been a shitty few weeks.

"You're staring," Will mutters under his breath.

My eyes narrow but don't look away from Tristan, who is standing down by the ice and laughing with two freshmen who are trying out for the first time. Honestly, they probably won't make the team, but Tristan doesn't seem to care. He just wants to build a posse up as quick as possible, just to rub it in my face that he has followers and I don't. "I'm not staring. I'm glaring, There's a difference."

"Okay well if he catches you glaring, he's not going to care too much if its out of admiration or animosity. Don't give him any ammunition, Ali."

I tear my gaze away from Tristan and the imaginary visual of his nose spouting blood to instead glare at Will. "I don't give a shit what he thinks."

Will rolls his eyes. "Sure you don't. Either way, just stop. You're being creepy."

My whole face flushes red with an intense anger. Just as I open my mouth to snark back at my best friend, another of our group plops down on the bleacher seat directly behind us. "So question. Who's hotter: new blood or Gabriel?" Caleb asks. 

Gabriel is a junior just like Caleb. He was the JV captain last year and worked hard to improve over the summer. He has a good chance of making varsity this year because of it. He's also the resident pretty boy, much to everyone's amusement. To be honest, Gabe works the angle pretty well, and his girlfriend of four months certainly isn't complaining.

"Gabe," I say at the exact second Will says "Tristan". The traitor doesn't even refer to him as new blood, like Caleb and I do. I call him new blood to remind him that he's still new and in no way permanent, while Caleb does it just to appease me. At my invigorated glare, Will quickly says, "What? It's true! You can hate him and still call him hot."

A scowl twists my face. No, I can't.

Caleb snorts. "Look, we all know pretty boy is a looker. But Tyler is convinced Ali is so attracted to him that her body cannot handle the hormones and she's channeling her feelings into anger to deal with it." I swear something pops in my hand I clench my fists so tightly, and Caleb pats my knee sympathetically. "I know, I know, he's crazy. It's his relationship with Paige. He's seeing fucking butterflies everywhere, I swear." Standing swiftly, Caleb makes his way down the bleachers toward the bottom row where Tyler and Hunter are discussing possible lineups yet again. I enjoy strategizing over potential rosters as much as the next guy does, but I've grown tired of hearing how perfectly Tristan fits into the hole left by our best senior, who graduated last year. "Anyway, I'll go tell him he's wrong and that you want to shove your foot up his ass."

"Thanks," I grumble, still pissed off but feeling marginally better after the short talk with Caleb. Maybe he could give me rides home after practice instead of Hunter. Caleb is far more amusing and far less infuriating in my opinion. "At least he gets it."