Page 39 of The Rebound Play
She presses her hand to my forearm. “I know you’re scared. I get that. But he’s giving your nephew free lessons, turning up at your house, giving you his jersey, choosing your birthday as his number. The guy has feelings for you.”
I worry my lip some more. “Maybe.”
She shakes her head at me. “Tell him how you feel. What’s the worst that can happen?”
I watch as he skates over to the edge of the rink, trailed by Benny, signaling the end of the lesson.
I know what the worst is that could happen. I could put myself out there, really out there, and he could reject me, leaving me alone again, here in Maple Falls.
CHAPTER 11
DAN
Practice is in full swing, and the sound of skates cutting the ice fills the rink. I line up for a face-off against Cooper, who’s been his usual bad-tempered self all morning. He grunts as he sets his stance. “Ready to lose, Roberts?”
I smirk. “In your dreams, man.”
The puck drops, and I win the face-off cleanly, sending it back to Ted on defense. My wrist twinges, but nothing more. Ted controls the puck smoothly and passes to Noah, who’s already moving up the ice. I skate hard, keeping an eye on the play.
We’re jelling well on the ice as a team, and I've got high hopes will make a clean sweep of our matches. We're up against the Canadian Lumberjacks in all five matches, my old Blizzard’s rival. Winning against the Jacks would be so sweet.
Coach blows the whistle, calling for a transition drill. We break into our lines, moving seamlessly from defense to offense.
Dawson is in net, focused and intense, just like he was back in our college days. Ted passes to me as I cross the blue line, and I quickly dish it to Cooper on the right wing. Despite his perpetually bad mood, Cooper’s got hands like magic, and he snaps a shot that Dawson deflects with a quick glove save.
“Nice try, Coop!” I shout, circling back.
Coach’s voice echoes through the rink, barking orders. “Keep it tight! Move the puck faster!”
We’re in the middle of a play when Nate, our cocky left winger, decides to pull something risky. He’s skating down the ice with a speed that borders on reckless, the puck glued to his stick. I can see that look in his eyes—he’s up to something.
Nate charges toward the goal, defenders closing in on him from both sides. Instead of passing to an open teammate, he pulls a slick between-the-legs move, faking out both defensemen. Everyone seems to hold their breath as he then flips the puck up and over Dawson’s shoulder, a move straight out of a highlight reel. Dawson barely has time to react before the puck hits the back of the net.
Nate skates away, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “Told you I got this!” he shouts, pumping his fist in the air.
Coach Strickland is not amused. He skates over, eyes blazing. “Nate, that was risky as heck! You pull something like that in a game, and it better work every time.”
Nate just shrugs, still smiling. “Relax, Coach. If you got it, flaunt it, right?”
I can’t help but smirk at his brash cockiness. But that’s Nate for you: recklessly talented and as cocky as they come. At least he backs it up with skill. The team might grumble, but deep down, we all know he brings a spark that keeps us on our toes.
Coach switches things up, calling for power play practice. I take my spot at center, with Cooper and Noah on my wings.
“How’s the injury?” Noah asks.
“Only giving me a little trouble,” I reply.
Ted and Noah set up on the blue line, ready to feed us the puck. Scotty told us he wants quick puck movement, and we start cycling it around, looking for openings.
I see an opportunity and pass to Cooper, who hesitates, then fires a shot. This time, Dawson’s prowess in the goal pays off, and he defends it.
“Better luck next time, Coop,” he calls out.
We keep pushing, the practice intense but productive. Scotty keeps us on our toes, shouting instructions, and by the end, we’re all ready for some kick back time—and my wrist for some rest. It’s held up well today, but I don’t want to push it. Getting another injury could see me out of the Ice Breakers, and that’s the last thing I want.
After we’ve showered and changed, I walk with Dawson to our respective cars.
“That Nate,” Dawson says with a shake of his head. “I thought Coach was going to pop a blood vessel at his antics.”