Page 57 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

“Aww.” They’re all groaning by the time they reach us.

Maddox purposely puts me between Damien and Ace, even though his jersey number is 55.

Dr. Bridgett ends up coming on the ice to take the picture, which ends up being a bunch of them as I purposely do weird faces and poses to emphasize that they lost and don’t deserve a ‘nice’ photo.

I do feel a hint of sympathy, so the final picture turns out marvelous, with Maddox’s towering behind me, Ace to my right, Damian to my left, and Wolfgang chilling in front of my legs in his goalie pose.

“And now that you guys are done acting like sore losers, we can get back into gear, yes?”

We all look behind us to see Coach Johnson and Coach Cyrus skating onto the ice with a red-haired male in dark blue scrubs. He has an eyebrow piercing and is surely wearing contacts because his eyes are a unique shade of green that doesn’t seem normal. With a black sweater on top, he’s barely skating well enough to keep ahead, but he makes it to where our coaches skid to a stop and observes us.

Dad looks annoyed, but I give him a big innocent smile.

“Good Afternoon, Coach Johnson and Coach Cyrus.” I gesture to the team of Vipers. “Was getting them all riled up for their first practice.”

“Isn’t that kind of you, Johnson,” Coach Cyrus announces. “Who lost?”

I point behind me, knowing it’ll poke somewhere in Maddox’s chest.

He’s just a tall tree.

“Vipers. Would have hurt your heart to see their gameplay.”

“Mishka,” Wolfgang groans. “Don’t make us look bad in front of our coaches. We don’t even know who’s taking us.”

“Well, we, the winners, know exactly who we want,” Jayce calls out and skates with his team to crowd around the opposite side, leaving Coach Johnson, Coach Cyrus, and the new male nurse in the middle.

“We get Johnson, Dr. Bridgett, and the goth kid over there.”

“Goth kid?” The male nurse blinks and points to himself. “Me?”

“Unless you got a name, that’s what we’re calling you, tardy,” Jayce counters, not caring to be nice.

“Dimitri Maxwell,” he introduces himself. “I wasn’t late. David assigned me to bring both coaches their official team documents and schedules.”

“David as in Public Relations Director, David?” Clayton ponders.

“Is it like a crime to call him by his first name and not Mr. Champion?” Ethan wonders.

“He’s my dad,” Dimitri dryly points out, and we’re all looking at him in surprise just as Amelia, Dakota, and Mr. Champion skate over to join us.

“Dimitri is right,” Mr. Champion announces. “He’s allowed to call me David, but if any of you try it, you’ll be benched for half the season.”

That makes these grown-ass men quiver in fear.

Ouch. Hit them where it hurts.

“Glad you guys had your fun, but your coaches have already been selected,” Mr. Champion announces.

“Wait, really?” Oscar looks pissed. “You guys let us go against Vipers for no reason.”

“We didn’t do anything,” Mr. Champion smiles, but you can see the threatening authority in his gaze. He’s the type who’s nice, but don’t push him out of his role of control. “Last time I checked, we were standing there, discussing game schedules and finances while your team decided to look heroic in hopes of flirting with Johnson’s daughter.”

I’m blushing in seconds while the guys snicker and whistle on a quieter level.

Mr. Champion is looking my way now.

“Nice to see you wanting to enter the world of sports like your father, Mikayla Johnson,” he begins with a nod of acknowledgment. “However, since your father is one of the coaches, it becomes a conflict of interest if you’re on the same team.”

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