by Jacob Chance
TRIPPED
Boston Terries Hockey #5
Jacob Chance
Copyright © 2021 Jacob Chance
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This novel is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people either living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
Cover design by PopKitty Designs
Edited and Proofread by Ink Machine Editing
This book contains mature content.
Perseverance (noun)
Steady persistence in a steady course of action, a state, etc., especially in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.
Part One
Chapter One
Piper
My eyes shift toward the highway exit, my stomach leaping and twirling like an acrobat. I can’t believe we’re almost there. After months of planning and two hours spent in the car, one of my dreams is about to come true. I’m tempted to pinch myself to make sure I’m actually awake—that’s how surreal this all seems.
“Make sure you call me every night to check in and text me whenever you have breaks. Oh, and brush your teeth at least twice a day and take your vitamins. Eat your vegetables and drink plenty of water. You don’t need to get dehydrated,” my mom rambles incessantly, interrupting my exhilaration. She barely pauses for a breath.
“Mom, really?” I jump in, groaning the question.
Her dark eyes flick to me, and a soft smile curves her full lips, before her focus returns to the unfamiliar road ahead. “I’m sorry, Piper. I don’t mean to treat you like you're incapable of taking care of yourself.”
“I think you meant to say you didn’t mean to treat me like I’m five years old.” I roll my eyes. My mom is ridiculously overprotective on a normal day, but now that she’s about to drop me off at a week-long sleep away hockey camp, she’s out of control. I know her behavior is caused by her having a lack of control over what happens while I’m away, but that doesn’t make it less annoying.
“You’ll always be my baby,” she says, and I want to cringe. I’m eighteen and a senior in high school. Don’t parents realize how uncomfortable it makes us kids when they say that?
“Yeah, too bad you didn’t have another child to take the heat off me,” I droll. Or a partner. My mom is the only parent I’ve ever known, and she’s always remained single. My dad didn’t want anything to do with being a parent, so it’s just been the two of us, which is why she’s currently smothering me more than usual. I’m trying to be understanding because this is my first time being away for so long and she’s struggling with it, but I’m the kid here. Hello. Shouldn’t she be lessening my concerns and not adding to them?
It’s times like these when I wish she’d go out and meet someone who would make her happy or at least distract her. It sure would take the pressure off me. Plus, I’d like to know that when I’m at college she won’t be lonely.
When we turn onto the prep school campus, my mom’s breathing picks up speed. It sounds like she’s been running up a hill.
“Mom, relax. Take a deep breath before you hyperventilate.” I watch as she slowly draws air into her nose, inflating her lungs. “Slow exhale,” I instruct and nod when she complies. “Good.”
She guides the car to the front of the creepy, castle-like building and I feel like I’m about to be dropped off at Hogwarts. If only I could learn wizardry in addition to sharpening my hockey skills.
Shifting the car into park, she sniffles. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Oh, Mom.” I lean over the console and wrap my arms around her back, squeezing tightly. “I’ll miss you too, but this is such a great opportunity for me. I’ll be so busy working hard and trying to make a good impression, the time will fly by.”
“Yeah, it will for you. Meanwhile, I’ll be at home counting down the hours and days,” she says.
“Why don’t you take advantage of being alone and go out with some of your friends?”
“I might miss your call if I do.”
“Jeez, Mom. I have common sense. I’ll call your cell phone if you’re not home.” I can see this conversation isn’t going to get any better. She’ll keep being a downer, and I need to get out of this car before I end up feeling guilty for attending this camp.
Opening the door, I tuck my phone in the pocket of my jeans and move around to the rear of the vehicle. For a few seconds, I stand waiting before she pops the trunk. It’s obvious she’s having second thoughts about letting me come here.
Grabbing my duffel, I sling it over my shoulder. Lifting my giant hockey bag, I place it on the sidewalk.
My mom rounds the back of the car, closing the trunk on her way, and walks toward me with both arms outstretched. Her eyes are slick with tears and her lips are rolled inward, holding in her sobs. Crashing into me, her head lands on my shoulder and she weeps next to my ear as if I’ll be gone for months.
Fuck me. I was hoping this would go differently.
“Mom, I need to go check in,” I gently prod, but she ignores me, only clinging tighter. “Mom.” I draw back, grip her arms, and set her away from me. “I need to go inside,” I state in a forceful tone.
She drags in a shaky breath. “Okay.”
“Text me when you get home.”
She nods, wiping her tears. “I will. Go on. I want you to have a great week. Kick ass on the ice and show them what a superstar my girl is.”
“You bet.” I grin.
She raises her lips in a semblance of a smile, which is more than I expected. “I love you, Piper.”
“I love you too, Mom.” Grabbing my hockey bag, I wheel the monstrosity up to the main entrance and carry it up the stairs. Glancing over my shoulder, I smile and give my mom a final wave before heading inside.
Pausing in the lobby, my eyes glide around the open space as smoothly as my blades move on the ice. Noticing a sign directing me to the main office, I head there straightaway.
“Can I help you?” the secretary asks.
I smile. “Hi, I need to check in for the hockey camp.”
“Name, please?” she queries in a businesslike manner.
“Piper Kelly.
She taps the keyboard on her laptop for a few seconds. Rising from her chair, she opens a drawer on a narrow file cabinet. There’s a metallic jingle as she rifles around inside before she pushes it closed. Walking to the counter, she slides a key toward me and I notice the small, dangling circular tag is stamped with 22 A.
“Don’t lose this. We charge fifty dollars for a replacement copy.”
Ouch. As it is, I’m only here because the camp was all expenses paid. I have a grand total of twenty dollars in my wallet, and that’s all my mother could spare. All the money I make from my part-time job at the local grocery store goes into my savings account for college. “I won’t,” I say before snatching up the key. “Which way to my room?”
“Take the elevator at the end of this hallway up one floor. Once you’re upstairs, there are signs on the wall pointing you in the right direction.”
“Okay.
Thank you.”
The elevator is small and hot like an oven. Immediately, I’m feeling claustrophobic, the metallic walls closing in on me. The doors part before my panic has a chance to fully kick in. Stepping out, I notice the small plaques on the wall pointing out the correct direction for me to go. Heading right, my room is halfway down the hall.
Using my key, I unlock the door and step inside. Sunlight shines through the large curtainless window, and dust particles dance in the air, welcoming me.
Crossing the small room, I set my duffel on the bed. Laying my hockey bag down on the floor, I slide it underneath the metal frame. Plopping onto the mattress, I glance around. The bare, stark white walls give a sterile feel to the space. If it weren’t for the green comforters on the two twin beds, there’d be virtually no color. Even the floors are a nondescript whitish-gray tile.
Rising, I unzip my duffel bag and remove my clothes one item at a time. I stack them into piles before moving them to the small dresser at the bottom of my bed. After that’s done, I set my personal hygiene bag on top of the dresser and tuck my key into my small purse. There’s no way I’m losing that sucker.
The doorknob twists and I spin around as a girl who looks to be about my age steps inside.
She smiles. “Hi, I’m Rachel.”
“I’m Piper. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She points to the other bed. “I guess I’m over here.” The wheels on her hockey bag thrum as they roll across the tile.
I sit cross legged on my bed, arms draped over my knees. “So, where are you from?”
“New Hampshire. What about you?”
“Massachusetts,” I reply, carefully studying her as she leans over the bed, rifling through her things. A thick, black curtain of curly hair falls over her shoulders when she straightens up. She turns to face me and I notice how striking her eyes are. The honey gold shade complements her brown skin.
“God, I hate unpacking even more than packing. I probably forgot half of what I need. Ugh.” She groans, taking a seat on the edge of her mattress.
“Yeah, I don’t like packing or unpacking either. Although, emptying my bag is always faster. I’m sure I would’ve forgotten stuff too, but my mom insisted on double checking everything.”
“Nice mom.”
“She is, but her need to hover can be annoying.”
Rachel shakes her head. “Parents. You can’t live with them, but you can’t live without them.”
“Right?”
“I don’t remember seeing you before. Is this your first time doing this camp?” she asks.
“Yeah. My mom wouldn’t even let me apply until this year. Not that I would’ve gotten an invite anyway.”
“You’re here now, so you probably would’ve.”
“What should I expect?” I don’t want to admit how nervous I am. Most of my anxiety is coming from all the unknown factors. One thing I know for sure, there will be some amazing hockey players taking part, and I hope I can keep up.
“Last year we did so many on-ice drills that I never wanted to do another one.” She laughs. “But here I am.”
“Drills aren’t so bad,” I say.
“Just wait. We did a lot of off-ice weight training too. I thought my quads were going to burn off.”
“Don’t you train at the gym?” I ask.
“I do now.” She giggles. “I learned how beneficial it was after spending a week here. When I went home, I immediately joined one. I work out at least three times a week now. What about you?”
“I don’t belong to a gym, but I have access to one at school. Some of my teammates and I work out there together after school.”
“I better finish getting unpacked. It’ll be dinner time soon and I’m starving.”
“How’s the food here?” I ask.
“Better than my mom’s cooking.” She snorts, drawing a smile from me. Rachel seems like she has a great sense of humor and she’s already easy to be around.
“Do you need help with anything?” I ask.
“No, thanks. As soon as I’m done, do you want to walk around a little before dinner?”
“Sure.”
“Awesome. I’m hoping some of the people I met last year will be here. I can introduce you to them.”
“Thanks. That would be great.” Rachel already has me feeling more comfortable. Just knowing she’s going to pave the way for me to meet some new people is reassuring. I’m not an introvert, but I’m also not naturally gifted when it comes to being surrounded by strangers. I’ll gladly take any help she wants to give me.
Chapter Two
Donovan
The cafeteria looks the same as I remember, aside from a fresh coat of paint.
“Hey,” I call out just before my friend, Jeremy, slams into me like a runaway train. The forceful impact of his large body meeting mine jolts up my spine like an electric shock. A grunt slips from my lips when his arms band around me, squeezing so hard my back cracks. Tall and thick with muscles to spare, he has the body of a fully grown man and he looks older than his eighteen years. He makes me feel small and I’m over six feet tall and weigh in at one-hundred ninety pounds.
“It’s great to see you, bro.” Jeremy steps back after a final breath-stealing slap on my back.
I roll my neck from side to side and inhale. “Jesus, what have they been feeding you in Nebraska, steroids?”
He laughs. “Naw, nothing but some good ole’ home cooking. My mama feeds me well.” He rubs his flat stomach.
“I’m glad you’re here. It’s nice to see a familiar face,” I say.
“If you’d ever answer your freaking phone, you’d know a lot more.”
I shake my head. “I hate talking on the phone. Our text exchange works just fine for me.”
“Have you seen anyone else yet?” he asks.
“Nope. I dropped my bags in our room and came looking for you.”
“Let’s go grab dinner. I haven’t eaten since breakfast this morning and I’m starving.”
We both take platefuls of meatloaf and potatoes smothered in gravy and place them on our trays. We add bottles of water and plasticware before finding an empty table in the far corner that gives us a prime vantage point to observe the comings and goings.
Both of us remain silent, too busy inhaling the delicious meal for conversation. My eyes scan the large room for familiar faces, but I don’t find any until my second pass around. “Is that Rachel?” I gesture toward the food line.
Jeremy smiles. “Yep. She said she would be here.”
“You guys kept in touch?” We all met last year and hit it off. But I’m notoriously bad at returning calls. Hell, I barely text. Jeremy is the only one I made any effort to check in with from time to time.
“Yeah. We’ve actually become really good friends. She’s pretty awesome.”
“Do you like her?”
“As more than a friend?” he asks.
“Yeah. I mean, she’s easy on the eyes.”
He slowly shakes his head. “No way, bro. She’s like a sister to me.”
I watch as Rachel turns, tray in hand, and sees Jeremy. Her face lights up, giving me the sense she doesn’t think of Jeremy as a brother. She turns to speak to someone beside her and my gaze follows. Whoa. Who’s this gorgeous creature? She must be new because there’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed her if she had been here last year.
The newcomer's eyes flick to Jeremy before timidly landing on me. She looks like a deer caught in a truck’s headlights.
“Hey, guys,” Rachel squeals, setting her tray down on the table. She runs over to hug Jeremy before moving on to me. My gaze never wavers from her attractive friend as she sets her tray down on the table across from me.
A small smile plays on my lips while my heavy stare appraises every inch I can see of her. She’s pretty in a natural way.
“Piper,” Rachel calls her name. She looks up and finds me observing her. Her dark brown eyes show a flicker of surprise before she shutt
ers her expression and looks back at her friend.
“This is Jeremy.” Rachel wraps her arm around him, leaning her chin on his shoulder. “And that’s Donovan.” She tosses the introduction out with a careless wave of her hand. It’s obvious where her favor lies.
“It’s nice to meet you, Piper,” I say, smiling.
She manages a tight curve with her lips before replying, “Likewise.” Her gaze lowers to her plate and she focuses solely on eating while Rachel and Jeremy continue talking enough for all of us.
Enjoying my dinner, I allow myself an occasional glance at her across from me. Every time I do, her head is lowered or she’s looking elsewhere.
Maybe she finds me repulsive? Nah, I chuckle to myself at the thought. I know girls find me attractive enough. Maybe she’s just uncomfortable in this new environment?
“Piper, where are you from?” I ask, thinking it might make her feel more welcome.
Her fork poised halfway to her mouth, her head slowly lifts. “Massachusetts,” she replies before her pink lips close around the food-loaded fork tines.
“That’s nice. I’m from Vermont, if you were wondering.” I offer the unsolicited information to her in the hope it might spark conversation. She remains silent. “Are you a Bruins fan?”
“Obviously,” she grunts.
“What about the Patriots? Are you a football fan too?”
“Not really,” she says, and I grin. She’s progressed to a two-word answer.
“What part of Massachusetts are you from?”
“Watertown.”
“Is that near Boston?”
She nods. “Yeah, like five minutes away.”
“For real?” I ask.
Her brows pop upward on her small forehead. “Why would I lie?”
“It must be awesome living that close to the city,” I continue, even though I know exactly where Watertown is in relation to Boston. My older brother, Nolan, attends Boston University. But I’m trying to get to know Piper and she’s not exactly making it easy for me. I’m not used to conversations with the opposite sex feeling so stilted. Girls usually want to talk with me and get to know me better. Whether Piper realizes it or not, her disinterest has only sparked my curiosity even more.