In The Penalty Box

by Lynn Rush

  I laughed and socked Preach on the shoulder. He really was the best friend.

  “Who’s ready to kick some Milwaukee Knights ass?” Nathaniel yelled as he jumped onto Pax.

  Teddy came thundering in, straight toward the Pax and Nathaniel pile. “It’s on!”

  “Waiiiiiiit!” Nathaniel rolled off Pax onto the floor in front of the couch.

  Teddy landed on Pax with a loud grunt. Pax groaned, pushing at Teddy, but nothing was moving that mountain. More laughter bounced off the walls surrounding us, and I rested my head back.

  Willow poked my shoulder, then glanced toward the hallway. “Where’s the bathroom, Preach?”

  “Down the hall. First door on the left.”

  Willow got up, then as she passed behind the couch, she flicked my shoulder. I watched after her as she walked down the hallway, thoroughly enjoying the view.

  I pushed up from the couch and said to the guys, “I’m gonna make sure Caleb’s breathing all right.”

  Preach nodded, then looked at the TV screen. ELF was playing, and even though this was one of my favorite movies, I bolted. I’d rather sneak some Willow time.

  I went through the kitchen in case anyone was watching, then came at the bathroom hallway from the other direction. I passed by the office doorway, and Willow grabbed my wrist. With a solid tug, she yanked me into the room.

  In the next instant, her mouth was on mine.

  I spun us to the side, and she pinned me against the wall beside the door. “How are you?”

  “Better now.” I dove in for another kiss, heat spreading through me like a wildfire. I’d missed her kisses. Her scent. The feel of her against me.

  “Really. I can’t believe what’s happening with your dad.” I’d been able to sneak away on Christmas Day for a while and was able to call her and tell her everything that’d happened Christmas Eve. She’d been the first one I’d wanted to call, the one I trusted with my secrets, the one I knew would be there for me.

  We hadn’t had a chance to be together since then, though.

  She kissed my lips, then pulled away, slightly. “I’m glad things are going better, Brodie. Really. Because I’ve been dying to tell you something.”

  I hugged her close, just happy to have her in my arms again, and said, “Fire away.”

  “My former coach, the one from Colorado, reached out to me to talk about possibly returning to the team.” Her smile widened.

  My stomach dropped. “Um…wow.” I hadn’t been expecting that. The news effectively doused the flames her kisses had stoked.

  “I just, didn’t…with everything going on with you, I wasn’t sure how to tell you my great news when you were hurting so much.”

  She was leaving me, wasn’t she?

  I pulled her into a hug, and I buried my face in her long hair so she couldn’t see the sadness I knew was showing through on my face. Tears stung my eyes as I drew in her coconut scent, fusing it in my senses.

  “I’m so happy for you,” I choked out, but inside it felt like my insides were getting shredded by a dull knife.

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-ONE

  Willow

  “Looks like the Wolverines really put the period in third period,” one of Roger’s teammates said, then threw his head back and laughed. Bright orange hair poked out from under his helmet. The guys on his team came up alongside him, laughing and patting him on the back.

  The anxiety and pent-up anger from missing Roger’s goal earlier in the game exploded to the surface as I threw down my stick. “You want to say that again to my face?” I lifted my chin, challenging him.

  Carrot Hair took two strides until his padded body bumped mine. Easily five or six inches taller than me, the fullness in his cheeks and his thick neck indicated that he had at least fifty pounds on me. “You think you can take me?”

  Pushing my shoulders back, I narrowed my eyes. “I know I can.”

  He brought his arms back and shoved me.

  As I glided backward, keeping my balance, I said, “That’s all you got?”

  The boy with the bright orange hair charged me, but unlike Brodie or Roger, he wasn’t very agile. His skate clipped my stick that I’d thrown down. Flat on his stomach, he let out a grunt, and I couldn’t help chuckling.

  He pushed up and snatched one of his buddy’s sticks. “You’re dead.” He swung his hockey stick and whacked me in the back of the leg, just above my hockey skate.

  Searing pain ripped up my calf, and I crashed to the ice. I flopped onto my side and grabbed my leg.

  Towering over me, Carrot Hair’s lips curled into a wicked smile the devil would have been envious of. Brodie flew by me in a blur and slammed into the orange-haired winger just as he was about to slam his right skate down on my leg.

  The kid landed on his back with a grunt and slid a few feet away.

  The ref promptly awarded Carrot Hair a penalty for fighting and slashing. Luckily, the ref had only been a few feet away from us, and Brodie didn’t get charged with anything.

  “This is bullshit!” the winger said as he skated away. His coach pulled him off the ice and laid into him as he sat red-faced on his team’s bench.

  Teddy helped me to my feet. Wincing, I fought back the urge to cry. It literally felt like someone had stabbed a hot poker into my calf.

  “You okay?” Brodie asked, coming to a stop in front of me.

  I tried putting an equal amount of weight on my skates. Pain shot down the back of my right leg. Panic seized my heart as I zeroed in on where the pain was. It wasn’t my Achilles, but it was close. Hair prickled on the back of my neck as a rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I could have been hurt. As in seriously hurt.

  That would tear away all the progress I’d made toward getting back on a figure skating team. Holy shit.

  “Willow?” The urgency in his voice rose.

  “Ah. I’m fine,” I lied and then drew in a long breath to try and calm down my thrashing heart.

  “He clipped you just above your bad ankle, didn’t he?” Brodie looked down at my skate and then back up at me.

  My chest started to rise and fall rapidly again, and the room felt like it had tilted sideways. That asshole hadn’t hit my ankle, but he had been close. Thankfully, the skate protected my Achilles well enough. Damn, that was close.

  “I’m fine. Come on. Let’s show these jerks what’s up!” My voice quavered, but I managed to punch him in the shoulder, as if everything was fine.

  We were down to two minutes in the third; we had to make something happen ASAP.

  The guys headed back to center ice, and the whistle blew. Brodie and Preach dominated the power play, and each attempted a shot as the seconds ticked away on the scoreboard. The goalie caught one in his glove and blocked the other.

  Even with a power play, Roger and his team were so good, we couldn’t get a goal. The score was tied at one.

  Fifteen seconds left on the clock.

  It was now or never. Someone had to score or we’d head to overtime.

  That’s when it happened. The substitute for the jerk who had whacked me hip-checked Brodie into the boards. On the other end of the ice, defenders blocked Teddy, Preach, and Nathaniel.

  With the flick of the wrist, one of the wingmen passed the puck to Roger.

  Gulping, I swallowed the anxiety. You’ve got this, Willow. You’ve blocked ten of his shots. The one that got by you was a fluke.

  Roger passed the puck to his wingman. Both burst forward with astounding speed, leaving Pax and Teddy in the dust.

  The crowd chanted, “Five, four, three…”

  Roger’s teammate passed him the puck. He was less than ten feet away from me. A smirk settled on his lips as he pulled his stick back.

  I braced for the worst as my bruised calf tensed.

  Dropping to my knees, I thru
st my blocker out to intercept the puck barreling through the air.

  I caught the edge of it, the impact stinging the back of my wrist. The puck hopped off my gear and shot straight up. With a loud ding, it rebounded off the top of the goal.

  And tipped backward, sailing above my head.

  Into the net.

  Bzzzzzzzz.

  They’d scored.

  A second buzzer rang, indicating that the game was over.

  That was it.

  We’d lost.

  I’d allowed Roger the Right Freaking Hand of God two goals. Two.

  Sinking to the ice, I pounded my fist. My stomach knotted, and a wave of heat steamed up my chest. I should have stopped that. Tears stung my eyes as I hit the ice again.

  Both teams left their benches. Roger’s guys hoisted him into the air, while our guys entered the rink silent, heads down.

  Eric skated right at me. “That is your fault, Sequins!” He pointed his stick at me. “Josiah should have been in goal, and you know it!”

  The anger that had been boiling just below the surface exploded. “Eric, why don’t you shut the fuck up and sit down!”

  His eyes went wide.

  I hopped up to my skates. “You’re always going on about how much better Josiah is than me. Well, guess what? Coach didn’t feel that way, and he has the final say. I blocked twelve shots today. Yes, I let in two, but I didn’t see you stopping Roger before he scored. You let him by you more than you stopped him today.”

  Eric’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t say anything.

  “That’s what I thought. Stop coming for me if you can’t back your bullshit up!” My heart hammered, and my hands went slick beneath my gloves. I hadn’t cussed that much in a long time, but I’d had just about enough of Eric’s shit. I’d proven myself over and over, and he was just bigoted asshat.

  Pax skated beside me, saying, “Leave her alone, Eric.”

  Whoa. Had I heard Pax right? First the drunken compliment and now he was defending me? As in Pax Hunt, the previous leader of the anti-Willow coalition? My heart actually stopped for a full beat, maybe two as I watched him coast away from me, toward Eric, then bump shoulders with him.

  Pain pulsed in my calf, ripping me from the alternate plane of existence I’d stumbled into. I pushed off, gliding across the ice toward the door. Most everyone was already off the ice and marching toward the locker rooms.

  Brodie stayed back, nodding at the last of our teammates as they passed by.

  “You okay, Willow?” he asked, handing me my blade guards.

  “Did you just hear Pax? Or did I hallucinate?”

  “I did.” He looked up at the ceiling of the rink and squinted.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for it to rain frogs or something?” Brodie gave me a lopsided grin.

  “They’d probably make it past me, too,” I muttered as I threw on my guards, then stepped over the threshold of the door onto the soft mats. I wanted to take my skates off and chuck them against the wall, but that wouldn’t do anyone any good, including me. I had to deal with the fact that I missed a block that cost us the game.

  Brodie nudged me with his elbow, and his big brown eyes greeted me when I looked up. “It’s gonna be okay, Willow.”

  We were about twenty feet from the locker rooms. I just wanted to get these pads off and take an hour-long hot shower.

  “Willow! Willow Covington,” an unfamiliar voice called out.

  Turning around, my eyes landed on a woman in a black tracksuit jacket with a logo I didn’t recognize. She had short silver hair and light blue eyes.

  “Deena Polanski,” she held out her hand for me to shake. “I’m the head coach of the Miami International Skating Center that’s opening next month.” She wasn’t exactly bubbly, but she appeared pretty excited to talk to me.

  I glanced up and down the empty hallway, then shifted my focus back to her. My knees got a little wobbly, so I was thankful Brodie was next to me.

  “Hi. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you.” I shook her outstretched hand and nodded, my heart pounding deep in my chest. I’d heard about the new program opening in Florida, but I didn’t know much about it yet. Everything was being kept pretty hush hush, including who was or wasn’t getting a possible invite.

  “Nice job out there.” A slight smile curved her bright red lips.

  “Um…thank you.”

  “I flew up here, directly after seeing your video. We’d like you to come try out for a spot on our team.”

  My mouth suddenly turned arid, and my hands started shaking. Had I heard her right? Did she really just offer me a tryout for her team? But I hadn’t sent her anything. Hell, I hadn’t known who the head coach of this mysterious new training center opening in Miami was yet, and here she stood, before me.

  She grinned and handed me a tote. “I’ve included information about our state-of-the-art training center and a few goodies.”

  It was everything I could do to remain upright because my legs had officially turned to jelly.

  Speechless, I opened the tote to take a glance. There was a matching jacket, a water bottle, and a folder filled with papers. Talk about things happening at the last minute. I’d needed to get on a team by January to have any chance of testing through the levels and competing in Worlds this coming year. And now, two teams were looking at me.

  “Tryouts are this Saturday,” she said. “And if things go well, like I think they will, I expect we could start working together shortly after that.”

  Brodie stiffened beside me, but I couldn’t look at him. Not yet. I wasn’t sure this was actually happening. Maybe I’d hit my head in the goal and I was unconscious.

  Because I had actually been starting to wonder if any team would want me. It was almost the end of the year, and time was running out. Even though I’d been training on my own, I was falling behind my competition without a proper coach and facilities.

  “Is that something you’d be interested in?”

  “Um, yeah. I mean, yes, ma’am.” My pulse thudded in my ears. “I…I’ll talk to my parents as soon as I can.”

  “Are they here?”

  “No. Dad’s at work but will be home in a few hours. You could stop by then.”

  “Perfect. I have the first flight out in the morning, so I have plenty of time tonight.” Deena handed me a business card. “My cell is on there if anything comes up.”

  Blood pounded through my head, drumming in my ears. My world tilted slightly as I smacked my lips, searching for some moisture. Any moisture. Was this happening? As in really happening right now? This fast?

  Saturday was only five days away. What about the hockey team? What about Brodie? No. I needed to chase my dreams. If anyone should understand that, Brodie should.

  I finally looked up at him, and his jaw was tight. He looked straight ahead with unseeing eyes. Thankfully, the rest of the team hadn’t witnessed this. Mostly just Preach, Jessa, and Brodie knew I was doing hockey only until I could get back to figure skating.

  “It was great meeting you, Willow. See you soon,” Deena said.

  “Thank you. You, too.” I shook her hand again, hoping mine wasn’t too sweaty, and watched her walk away. I didn’t recognize her name, so I’d have to look her up and check out her skating history, but the fact that she’d personally come up here to freezing cold and very snowy Wisconsin from Miami must be a good sign.

  I dropped my helmet to the padded ground and slapped my cold hands on my steaming cheeks. Tears spilled out as I drew in a shaky breath.

  “So that just happened,” I whispered, my breathlessness stealing my voice.

  Brodie stared down at me, his nostrils flaring and his cheeks flushed. His jaw was tense and his forehead crinkled.

  I fanned my face, willing the tears to dry and said, “Brodie?”


  “You’re leaving…” He faced the ceiling and let out a breath. “It’s happening. You’re…leaving.”

  I grabbed his arm and wiggled it, urging him to face me. My heart was weighed down with a somber heaviness, replacing the excitement that had lightened it. “It’s just a tryout. I haven’t made the team.”

  “But you will.” His voice was clipped. Tense. “Of course you will—you deserve it. You’ve earned it.”

  “We don’t know that.” I fisted my hand in the front of his jersey. “We don’t know that.”

  He closed his eyes and sniffled. “We should…you should get home. Sounds like she wanted to meet your parents.”

  “Brodie. Wait.” I held tight to his jersey. “Please don’t say anything to anyone.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, looking at me with genuine concern. “We can’t keep this from the team. I can’t keep this from Preach.” His voice ricocheted off the cement walls.

  “We don’t know anything other than I’ve been offered a tryout. Let’s not bring anything up because if it doesn’t work out, then we’ve riled them up for nothing.”

  “But Preach? I can’t—”

  “Just until after tryouts. I might not make the team, Brodie.” I rested my palm on his chest. He was still wearing his hockey pads beneath, but I swore I could feel his heart hammering through the layers of protective gear.

  My heart cramped at the thought of leaving him. Leaving the team. I’d come to really love these guys. And Brodie…he, and the team, had really won me over. I liked hockey.

  But figure skating…it’d been my entire life for so long. And now I had a chance to get back to it.

  I had to take that chance.

  CHAPTER

  FORTY-TWO

  Brodie

  The Ice Den wouldn’t work as my church today. I needed to be at Jackson Pond.

  I needed to feel the fresh, ice-cold air stinging my lungs. Bundled up in my Gore-Tex jacket, I hopped onto the ice.

  My home.

  My church.

  I pushed off nice and easy, warming up my legs, breathing in and out. Letting the frigid air cleanse the junk from my mind.