Page 1 of Goalies Don't Date Ice Princesses

one

“We’ve adaptedthis to be the girls’ change room,” Coach Irina said. We all crowded around the door to look at the small room. It wasn’t as nice as the room we had back at Sinclair, but it was the least of our issues right now. A small change room was nothing compared to having to share the rink withboys.

“But we got you the nicer one,” Assistant Coach Jasmine added. “So, it’s not all bad.”

It still was, but none of us were going to say it.

I guess it wasn’t our coaches faults that we were here. The decision to merge the schools came from above their heads—far above. From people who probably didn’t even know Sinclair Academy had a figure skating team, let alone one that would be upset at this merger.

Irina and Jasmine kept walking, and we had no choice but to follow behind, walking through the dark and empty hall outside Westwood Academy’s ice rink.

“And remember, you’re never going to be on the ice at the same time as the boys,” Irina continued. “We’re arranging for the practices to be at separate times of day.”

“Speak of the devils,” Corrie said from the front of our group. Irina frowned and opened her mouth, probably to ask her what she was talking about, but the question was unnecessary as shouting and laughter filled the halls. I stood on my tiptoes to look over the shoulders of the girls in front of me and watched as a group of boys came down the hallway.

Having gone to an all-girl’s school for the past few years, I didn’t see boys very often, especially not in packs like this.

They walked with an air of confidence, their shoulders squared, steps purposeful, and smirks on their faces. I noticed the unmistakable crispness of their matching dark green blazers adorned with the school emblem on the pocket—wearing the full uniform every day was a requirement at Westwood, which none of us were used to. But suddenly, the uniforms that had been annoying me all day was the best thing I’d ever seen—the boys’ uniforms were impeccably tailored to fit their athletic frames, accentuating their broad shoulders and sculpted physiques.

As they approached, I couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly they commanded attention. It was as if an invisible force drew everyone’s gaze in their direction. The tour of the building was forgotten as the whole figure skating team broke into whispers.

Each boy seemed more striking than the last. Their perfectly styled hair framed handsome faces, and I couldn’t help but notice the way their eyes sparkled. They exuded an aura of confidence that was both alluring and intimidating. One even wolf-whistled as he passed us, which made me cringe a little.

One boy was alone at the end of the pack, not talking to anyone or laughing along with the group. He was staring straight ahead with a neutral expression on his face, as if he was above everyone here and didn’t see a reason to pretend like he wasn’t. But I guess that show of arrogance worked for some girls, because as he came closer, I heard whisperings ofwho is that?through the group.

I wondered whether it occurred to any of them that his face was familiar. Very familiar. In fact, even though they weren’t technically identical, his features almost perfectly matched his triplet sisters, who had gone to Sinclair with us.

He turned his head slightly as he passed by us, like he was just noticing that we were there at all. His gaze raked over the entire group, not pausing for a moment, despite at least five girls giving him their best seductive smiles. It was a little funny to watch how being at a co-ed school was already starting to affect everyone, actually. Not that I was above it—I was loving the view just as much as everyone else, but I also knew that looking was all I was going to do. It was well known among figure skaters that hockey players didn’t respect our sport and no matter how cute they were, I wasn’t wiling to compromise on that.

The boy’s eyes kept moving, not focusing on any girl for more than a second, until it finally landed on me. His steps slowed and he kept his eyes trained on me, like he was taking me in and couldn’t risk looking away too soon. There was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, but also something else—something that I couldn’t place.

Blair grabbed my wrist and squeezed, like she wanted me to realize how monumental this was and thought I wouldn’t notice it on my own. But it wasn’t as big as she thought. He wasn’t looking at me for any of the reasons she was imagining up—something about him being secretly in love with me or whatever, probably. No, I was certain he was just looking at me because he was trying to figure out where he knew me from.

Which stung a little since we’d been introduced multiple times in the last few years.

The moment was over as quickly as it started. He faced forward again, and I looked down, trying not to let a blush cross my face. I shouldn’t have cared what he thought of me. I shouldn’t have cared that he was being so dismissive, that he was looking away from me so easily.

“Who. Was. That?” Blair hissed in my ear. She gripped my arm so tightly that I felt like she was going to pull it out of the socket.

“Archer Rainn,” I whispered. I sighed as I watched his retreating figure as it made its way down the hall. “My best friend’s brother.”

two

“What colour doyou want your nails?” I asked, holding up two bottles of nail polish. Adelynn pointed to the one in my right hand—a light pink—without looking up from her book. I shook my head fondly, but put the other one away. “You know, the whole point of having a girls’ night today was to catch up.”

“Hm?” Adelynn asked, clearly not hearing a word I said. I moved to lie down on my stomach on the floor, mirroring her position, and put my hand over the page she was reading and she looked up. “Hey!”

“We’re supposed to be bonding here,” I said. “Can’t you put the book away for thirty minutes? Please?”

Her mouth twisted a little like she was trying to think of a nice way to tell me to screw off and let her read, but she finally nodded. She grabbed the drugstore receipt I’d discarded on the floor and stuck it in her book, then threw it off to the side.

“Fine,” she said. I pulled her hand toward me and opened the nail polish. She watched me silently as I started painting it on her nails.

“How was your summer?” I asked. She made a face that summed up pretty much every summer she’d ever had: long and tiring. I laughed. “Were you at your grandparents’ cottage again?”

“And sharing a room with Avi, of course,” she said. Adelynn had a bit of a rocky relationship with her siblings. Before I met her, I always assumed being a triplet was like having two built-in best friends. But Adelynn barely spoke to her triplets, especially when they were at school. Until this year, the two boarding schools in this town—Sinclair Academy and Westwood Academy—were separated by gender, so she hardly ever saw Archer, which put an obvious strain on their sibling relationship. But given the relationship between her and her triplet sister, Avianna, I wasn’t sure that proximity was much better. I wasn’t a big fan of Avianna or how she treated Adelynn, though, so sometimes I thought it was for the best that they didn’t speak often. And all that wasn’t even as bad as her older sister, Annabelle, who barely even spoke to the triplets. She was only a year older than them, which didn’t seem like much of an age gap to me, but I guess when you were the only non-triplet sibling in a family, it seemed like more than that.

“Well, you’re back at school now,” I said. “Your happy place.”

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