Page 101 of From Helsinki with Love
I take a few turns, feeling the ice beneath me, and then glide toward the other players. They’re all staring at me, some with admiration, some with suspicion.
Shane skates up to me, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, Viking, you must be excited to finally play with a real team.”
“Well, I’m more excited to have a captain who can’t keep up with me.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t get too cocky. You still have a lot to prove.”
“I know,” I reply, knowing my reputation precedes me. “But I’m ready for the challenge.”
Coach MacBride skates over, extending a hand. “Welcome to the Peacocks, Åkerman. We’re thrilled to have you on board.”
“Thanks, Coach,” I reply, shaking his hand. “I’m excited to see where this goes.”
“Good to hear. We’re starting a scrimmage shortly, but if you want to warm up, feel free.”
I nod, grateful for the opportunity to stretch my legs. As I do so, I take a moment to survey the other players. Just as I expected, the team looks promising and full of talent. They have won about half of the games against the Woodpeckers in the past, so it isn’t surprising how good they are.
“Want to do the honors and be in the first face-off with me?” Shane asks as I finish my warmup rounds. “I’d love to see what you’re bringing to the table, Viking.”
“Sure, old man,” I jokingly call him.
As hoped, that makes him laugh. “I’ll show you who’s old.”
I join the other players in the circle and get ready in my position in front of the face-off spot. Shane is on the opposite side of me, wearing a white vest over his jersey, signaling which team he’s on. I play for the team without vests in this practice.
As the puck drops, we both go for it, but I manage to get it first and start skating toward the opposite team’s goal, passing the puck to Tobias Barrera, a right winger, who manages to score the first goal of the scrimmage in the first twenty seconds.
My team cheers, and I can feel the excitement and energy building on the ice. Tobias and Lee Anderson, a left winger, clap my shoulder, congratulating me on the successful play.
The scrimmage continues, and I get lost in the game, forgetting everything else. This is what I love about hockey: the way it clears my mind and allows me to focus on one thing only. I play hard, skating fast and taking shots. Even though there are moments when it’s evident I haven’t played with the team before today, my transition from the Woodpeckers to the Peacocks is surprisingly easy.
As the practice comes to an end, we all skate to the center of the ice, high-fiving and congratulating each other on a job well done. A rush of satisfaction sweeps over me as I realize how good this team can be. We have great chemistry and excellent players, and with my addition, we can be unstoppable if everything goes well. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.
Exiting the rink, my heart is still racing from the adrenaline. I’ve missed this feeling, and I’m grateful that I get to keep playing. Being traded to the Peacocks allows me to continue my career outside the organization that wanted to get rid of me.
Felix claps me on the back. “Great job out there, Jasper. You’re going to fit in perfectly with this team.”
“Thanks, man. I’ve got to admit, I was scared shitless to come here today, but it seems like a great place to be.”
We enter the locker room, and I start peeling off my gear. As I do so, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is damp with sweat, and my cheeks are rosy from the exercise. But the purple jersey I’m wearing catches my attention the most. It’ll definitely take some time to get used to the idea of being a Peacock, even if I liked the first practice and how open the team was toward me.
“I have to hand it to you, Viking, you’re a fucking great player,” Shane comments as he walks past me to his stall.
“Thanks. You’ve still got it, too,” I respond.
“You want to grab a drink and bite with us? My kid won’t get out of school for another few hours, and Papa needs a drink or two.”
That makes me laugh. “Sure, where are we going?”
“There’s this dive bar two minutes away called the Drunk Moose that we frequently visit. The owners are season ticket holders and often have a private room for us,” he explains.
“Sounds great. Let me first text my girlfriend.”
That catches many of the guys’ attention and they glance my way, mostly showing different levels of amusement. I realize I haven’t publicly announced my relationship with Vivian yet…only that we're dating.Well, shit.
“Wait, I thought you liked puck bunnies and don’t do relationships, Viking?” Silas Howard, the second line center, comments from his spot.
I shoot Silas an unimpressed look. He’s known to make inappropriate jokes, trying to get under people’s skin.
