Page 4 of Play the Game

“There is noher.That was a rumor. He got dropped from the Coyotes because of the arrest and assault,” Volkova corrects his teammates, and I continue to dance as they all talk about their newest teammate.

After many half-assed jokes and quizzes over my knowledge of hockey, the team gets up to leave, and I disappear into the dressing room with a B-cup full of money. Volkova threw me a hundred with a quick roll of his eyes as he dragged one of his drunker teammates out after him.

I stare at Benjamin Franklin and swear he’s judging me for the idea that sneaks into my head like a sly little fox. I suck my cherry-flavored lip into my mouth and fold the bill in half, letting the distasteful plan disappear with bigger morals than I was taught to have.

I can’t—my phone pings, and my gaze falls to the notification.

A gulp slowly works itself down my throat when I press play on the voicemail. The moment I hear his voice, I clench the hundred in my sweaty hand.“Hey, Sis.”

I erase the message without even thinking about it.

Fight-or-flight kicks in, and right now, flight wins.

I count the money I made tonight. It’s a good chunk, but not good enough.

He’s bleeding me dry, and I’m letting him.

But what’s a girl to do when the legal fees continue to pile up and gain interest? The outstanding bills are accumulating, and with his constant voicemails becoming more desperate, I don’t have a choice.

The hundred that Volkova threw at me like chump change catches my eye again. I shake my head and peel my attention away when I hear Chastity, Rosie, and Kitty pile into the dressing room with their own wads of cash.

“Make out good tonight, sweetie?” Rosie asks, chugging a seltzer that has to be flat by now.

“Rosie.” My mouth moves faster than my brain. “Can you cover my shift on Thursday?”

You can’t do this, Scottie.

“Sure, if I can find a babysitter. Why? Got a hot date with one of those hockey players you were wooing out there?” She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and my face flames.

“Something like that.”

Dread weighs on my shoulders, but the longer I stare at Benjamin, the lighter I feel.

“In that case,” she snorts, “I’ve got you covered.”

I smile and count my earnings again. I immediately grab my phone and pull up the Chicago Blue Devils game schedule. I’ll deposit the money tomorrow and have a ticket by the end of the night.

Two

EMORY

The rink ishome to me, even if I’m practically surrounded by strangers.

The team has welcomed me with open arms—if you consider wary looks and multiple jokes regarding my arrest.

It’s the start of the third period, and we’re up 2-0. I haven’t let a single puck through, and pride swells. I may have disappointed my previous coach and team, probably even my parents too, but right now, I’m proving myself.

That’s what this season is about.

I’m here to clean up my destroyed image. I have to keep my head down, perfect my game, build this team up, andhopefullyget offered an even better deal down the road.

Though, after practicing with these guys for the summer, I’ve realized that they’re pretty fucking good. Their—our—only problem is we’re not working together as a team yet.

You’ve got Malaki, who is one of the fastest skaters in the central division. He’s mouthy and jokes too much, but he has skills. Then there’s Rhodes, who is more like me than anyone else on the team. We speak the same language, which has been described as ‘caveman’ by most of the team. Few words are shared between us, but he’s the one teammate that I’m theclosest with. He’s a phenomenal left winger, and his mindset reminds me a lot of Theo Brooks—who is absolutely killing the Eastern Conference, just like he did when we were in college. Rhodes is the captain, and though I’ve only been a part of the Devils for a short time, I know it’s well-deserved. He gets shit done, knowing when to spark anger and when to simmer.

Then there’s the devil himself: Kane.

He’s a rookie, but his knowledge of the game may give my best friend, Ford, a run for his money. I grew up alongside Ford and didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who knew hockey like he did, but Kane is quick-witted and can predict where the puck is going well before the shot is even made.

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