Page 46 of The Friend Zone

“Today we’re going to run two on one rush drills. Since your decision making, puck control, shooting accuracy and defensive positioning all need work, you’re going to work on those skills in teams of three. You’re going to keep going until I tell you to stop. And let me make something clear,” Coach’s expression turns stony. “I better see each and every one of you give everything you have during these drills. I don’t give a single fuck if you’re hungover or still drunk. I want to see your blood, sweat and tears or we’ll be here all day. I’ve already split you into teams of three, find your team as I call your names.”

I must have done something really wrong, lately. My karma is really shitty lately.

I’m paired with Cole and Ryker.

Fucking great. The last two people I wanted to run these drills with. Cole is mad at me because of that stupid text I sent Bay—join the club, buddy. I would slap myself if it could undo all the stupid shit I’ve done in the last couple of weeks.—and Ryker left with Bay last night. I know I have no right to be mad or jealous for a million reasons, but I can’t help the bitterness that coats my tongue at how he swooped in with Bay the second I was out of the picture.

We’re directed toward one of the goals and drills are run pretty much in a continuous flow.

“You aren’t allowed to stop between turns. Once someone shoots the puck, whether or not they score, you’ll swap positions. Everyone needs to play offense and defense during each drill. When one shift is over, your team of three will skate laps of the rink until you’re up again.” Coach yells. “I better not see you slacking, keep those heart rates up, ladies.”

COLE

This is my idea of hell.

Coach Harrison has always been tough on us, but this is straight torture. It makes last year’s bag skating look like a walk in the park.

Thank fuck I barely had one beer last night, since I invited Julia—my usual fake date—and she was having fun. I always stay stone cold sober when she’s around, so I can watch out for her if she parties too hard.

Despite not being hungover, these drills are designed to crush us and it works perfectly.

By the time it’s my first shift in front of the goal, I’m sweating like a motherfucker and I’m wondering what the fuck have I done to deserve this.

Can my karma really be this shitty?

Maybe I should help some old ladies cross the road or rescue kittens stranded in a tree or go to church every Sunday. Anything to make sure we don’t get punished by Coach Harrison ever again.

“Marshall, Moore and Connelly, you’re up!” One of the assistant coaches yells. “Moore, you’re on the offense first. Then Connelly, then Marshall. Get a move on.”

I stand in front of the goal, going out of my way not to look at Jagger by my side.

I’m still furious at him for the way he “ended things” with Bay. I don’t give two shits what Topher has on him, he fucked up big time.

I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I space out and I’m totally taken by surprise when Ryker comes barreling toward us from center ice, skating like he had the devil chasing him.

He must have noticed my distraction, because he zeroes in on me.

“Cole, pay attention!” Jagger collides with me in the attempt to stop Ryker and I almost lose my balance.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” I react, shoving him away.

“Then cover your fucking position.” Jagger growls, hitting my stick with his to get in Ryker’s way as he reaches us, ready to shoot.

I probably should get out of the way, but he doesn’t get to tell me what to do, not when he can’t even be decent enough not to break up with Bay by fucking text.

I shove back. “I got this. You’re in my fucking way. Move!”

Our sticks clash against each other as we fight for position, totally oblivious to Ryker, who has the left hand side totally free. His slap shot sales past us right into the goal.

I ignore Jagger’s scowl. If he didn’t want Ryker to score, he should have stayed out of my fucking way, like I told him.

“Cole, you ok?” Ryker asks as he takes Jagger’s spot.

“Peachy.” I bite out, not even looking at him.

I square my shoulders, looking at Jagger speeding toward us.

We’ve been playing defense on the same line since we were freshmen and Jagger sometimes supports the offensive action. While he isn’t one of our top scorers, as a defenseman, he scores a lot.

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