Page 9 of Pucking my Enemy Boss

We circle each other like predators, assessing each other's strengths. I feint to the left, drawing him in, and then aim for a shot as his brick-wall body moves in to block. I expected that move. A quick duck, a shift in my weight, and I’m past him.

The crowd erupts in cheers. No one beats Ryan easily. But I’ve done it for the third time in a row during this practice. It’s one of those days that no one can stop me.

The goal looms ahead, the goalie crouched and ready and I already know the outcome as I wind up and swing. I watch the puck rocket past the goalie, slamming into the back of the net with a satisfying thud.

“Yes, Carter!”

“Nice moves, Carter!”

“Keep that up and we bring home the Stanley Cup this year!”

The rink erupts with further cheers. And Coach Andrew blows his whistle while clapping as he calls for a team swap.

I skate to the bench with my practice teammates, donned in our red jerseys. Liam, skates up to me, grinning from ear to ear. "That was insane, man!" he exclaims.

“Not bad yourself. Thanks for the pass.”

“Man, I love playing on your line. You make it so easy to get apples.”

I nod, acknowledging the compliment, but my face remains impassive. The rush of scoring fades quickly, replaced by thefamiliar emptiness. I skate off the rink, Ryan falling in step beside me.

“Great move out there,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’re in top form.”

“Thanks.”

Coach Andrew steps up to me. "Great goal, Ethan. Keep it up."

I force a smile. "Thanks, Coach."

The rest of the team congratulate me, most going on with banter and teasing Ryan about me rinsing him. He jokes back, a complete natural at it. Amid the laughter and camaraderie, I feel like an outsider looking in. Their enthusiasm is a stark contrast to the emptiness I feel inside.

I'm good at hockey. Really good. But it doesn't fill the void.

I watch the rest of the practice from the sidelines, and at the end, the coach calls a team huddle.

“Good workout today, boys. We’ve got the match tomorrow, so watch your game clips, familiarize yourselves with the opponent, and get one hundred percent motivated for the game tomorrow. We’ve got a match to win.”

“Go Blizzards!” Ryan calls.

The rest of the team roar the phrase in response and punch the air.

“Special announcement,” Coach Andrew announces. “There’s a team night out tonight for bonding. The team bus will be out to pick everyone up from their point of choice. Liam will help us collect addresses.”

A chorus of approval fills the air. Everyone's excited.

Not me. I hate these things. The forced camaraderie, the endless chatter. It's a performance, just like everything else in my life and I’d rather avoid it.

Liam approaches me, his eyes full of hope. "You coming, Ethan?"

I shake my head. "Not going."

Liam’s smile falters for a moment, but he nods and moves on. We’re somewhat close, as the coach tasked me with mentoring him. Liam knows me well enough not to argue.

As the team starts to filter toward the locker room, greeting each other with nods and waves, a few say hi and I acknowledge them. Most of my teammates think I’m a proud ass who doesn’t like to socialize because I’m the best player on the team. I’m not new to having people who don’t think much of me and, mostly, I let them think what they want. Most don’t know the half of it.

I go straight for my locker and pull out my phone to check my messages. As expected, there's one from my uncle.

Call us, Ethan, or we’ll have to come to Chicago to see you.

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