Page 32 of These Wicked Games
I nod, finishing up the hat. “There.” I hand it to her. “First goal tomorrow is for you, Giselle.”
Her hand flies to her mouth then she looks down at the hat. “Oh my god.” She smiles, looking at the writing.
For my biggest fan, Giselle.
Much love, Kuli.
“Thank you.”
I give her a fist bump, then take the room key, walking to the elevator and toward my fate. I can’t fucking believe this bullshit. Does Andre even know? I get my answer a moment later as I slide my key through the lock and walk in just as Andre’s peeling off his shirt. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Instead of answering him I throw my bag across the room, then slam the door closed and walk to room two thirty-two. I knock loudly, waiting for Grey to open up. “What, Oli?” he sighs against the door. Or at least I assume that big thud was his forehead.
“Oh, you fucking knew, you prick!”
“I knew what, Oli?”
“What’s going on?” I hear Atlas muffled from behind this piece of wood that’s the only thing keeping me from strangling my best friends. “Oh shit, he found out who he’s rooming with, huh.”
“You both knew?!” I hear a beep, not waiting for them to open the door before I push my way in and drop onto a bed. “Traitors.”
“I just found out.” Atlas puts his hands up.
“I agree with Coach,” Grey says, unpacking his bag. “You and Andre need to get along. Just learn to swallow your hatred, for us,alright? Whether you like it or not he’s here. This is happening. Give him a shot, he may surprise you.”
“The only surprising thing will be if I don’t choke him. You know what he did to me.” Grey shakes his head, taking clothes out of his suitcase. “Are you saying I’m lying?”
“Never,” he grinds out. “It’s just, who knows what happened, okay? And maybe he did, alright, so we don’t have to like him, but he’s not going anywhere near your tests now, right? We just need both of you to come to some kind of agreement, some sort of truce, because our games have been shit and we all know why.”
“Because Andre is a shitty goalie.” Even as I say it, I know it’s not true.
“Because you’re more preoccupied with avoiding him then helping him. Stop letting it distract you. We have a cup to win. You don’t need to be friends, but you need to get it together.”
“I agree,” Atlas says.
“Of course you do, kiss ass.” My jaw clenches.
Grey sighs, clapping my shoulder. “Grow up, Oli. It’s game time.”
nine
Oli
So hey, pro tip. If you want your athletes to athlete don’t make them room together for the season if they hate each other. Forcing me to room with Andre is not working, in fact it has made shit worse. I only went back for my clothes earlier this morning. I’d refused to leave Grey and Atlas’s room, and slept on one bed while they shared the other. It worked out for everyone. Atlas loves a good cuddle.
When I went back to my room, Andre tried to talk to me, and I contemplated throwing either myself off the balcony or him. My game is off, and I can’t think. Of course I had to take a test before this game, and maybe I’m being dramatic, but it seems like the tests are coming more frequently this season. Maybe I’m just hyperaware of it with Andre now here.
I sit on the bench as another line goes out for the third period. I’m pissed. Normally it’s me out there, but I get it. I’ve played like shit tonight. I watch my guys skate on the ice, followed by Andre who skates towards his net. I watch him. He does this weird-ass thing where it looks like he’s talking to the crease. I know he does it every single game, every single period. I don’t really know what the fuck he’s actually doing, but it’s weird.
Goalies, man.
Looking behind me I see Giselle, though, and smile. She’s with a guy who I hope isn’t that trash boyfriend she has. She can do way better than that douche; I hope she knows that. By the way she just laughed at what he said in her ear, I hope it’s someone new. Her eyes lock with mine, then brighten as she waves hard at me. I give her a look, then nod my head in the guy’s direction. She shakes her head with a wide smile.
Good, she can do better.
I get up, turning toward the glass. “What the fuck are you doing?” Sev hisses.
I grab my stick, handing it to her over the ice. She squeals. The guy next to her smiles, helping her reach it. “I need another stick.”
