Page 182 of Finding the Forward: Part Two
Who would have thought?
Chapter Fifty-Five
Grif
Stealing the puck from one of the Jersey Titans forwards, I hurried across the ice. Elation burst through me as I evaded the defense, and barreled toward their goal.
Fuck, I’d missed this.
Carlos skated circles around the forward after me, distracting her so I could pass it to Clark. Chased by their defense, he skated around the back of the net, and I went the other way.
The goalie moved, anticipating me. We had a friendly but fierce rivalry.
Clark moved like he was passing to me. Defense got on my ass.
No, we weren’t losing tonight.
The arena was a sea of pink, both in the stands and on the ice. February was omega history month and today was ouromega nightgame. The Knights wore black and pink jerseys which would be auctioned off to raise money for the Omega Center. Pink hats and Double-D bobble toys had been given out to fans, and there was a special menu of pink drinks and treats.
I knocked down the defender as Clark passed it to Carlos. The defender turned and pushed me, then froze.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Do it. I won’t break.” I made thecome at megesture. For now, Dimitri was technically our enforcer. But I never shied away from a fight.
I took off my gloves and threw them down. He had no choice now.
His gloves dropped. “Fine.”
I threw the first punch. He hit me back.
“You can do better,” I taunted, aware that everyone was watching. It was early in the game, and I hadn’t gotten into a fight yet. I hit him again.
Come on, fight me.
Getting people to treat me as always was the key to being accepted in the PHL.
“Fine, but if I get shit for hitting you, I’m going to tell them you told me to.” He hit me again. Harder this time. Though not his worst.
Shoving him against the boards, I hit him several times. “The only shit you’re going to get is for getting beat up by me. Though I haven’t changed, I’m still me. Fight me.”
This time, he fought back. The people behind the glass cheered.
“You get him, Grif Graf,” a woman shouted.
I savored the way it felt to punch someone during a game. Yeah, I’d missed this.
The ref finally blew his whistle and tried to tear us apart. I fought against them, continuing to throw punches.
“I think you’ve made your point.” Elias pulled me off him.
“I guess.” I let him rip us apart.
A penalty was called, and the lineman dragged me toward the box. I stopped and thumped on the glass when we skated past the family section.
“Hey, Tiger. You show ‘em!” Verity cheered, wearing my jersey.
“Good fight, Boo-Boo.” AJ has his arm around her, matching her.
