by Lexie Syrah
Bell bends over panting. Finally, he looks up at me and mumbles, “Why did you do that for me? You don’t even like me.”
I throw a hand behind my head and look away. “You’re a part of the Falcons. And nobody messes with my team.”
…
Alice
“I’m so full I’m going to die.” I clutch my stomach and look down at my empty pizza tray.
Hayden looks over at me, wide-eyed. “You just ate a whole pizza. Honestly, where do you put it all?”
I grab the dessert menu off the table. I thought being a guy would make people stop questioning how much I eat.
“You’re getting dessert, too?”
“My dinner stomach is full, but my dessert stomach has room.” After Hayden punched Freddy in the nose, we walked into the city and ended up at this dive pizza shop, claiming to have Detroit’s best pizza.
And y’know…I think they might be right.
I stare at Hayden, rattling off about how pie is the only worthy dessert. Despite him being a complete asshole 90% of the time, I can’t deny how nice his voice is. It’s deep, with that unique Canadian twang. I wonder if everyone from Winnipeg talks like he does.
“So, did you tell your sister about Fredlund?”
Ugh. Freddy. There’s a part of me that just wants to crawl onto the linoleum of this pizza joint and die. But there’s another part that just wants to eat a huge slab of cheesecake and call it a night. Freddy and I dated for two years. And there were a lot of good times. But now that I think about it, we spent a good chunk of those two years either playing hockey or ignoring the other. He moved on.
Would have been nice if he had just broke up with me first.
I know I should be holding back tears, but there’s just none in me. I don’t think I could shed a single tear even if my life depended on it. All my tears left when Dad did.
“Bell?”
“What?” Oh yeah. He asked me about Freddy. “I haven’t told her yet. I’ll do it in person.”
I want to text Freddy, tell him it’s over, and that he’s an asshole. But I can’t do that, not without talking to Xander first. Because when Freddy pulled me close, he had whispered: “If you tell Alice, I’ll tell your secret to the whole league.”
What secret? Xander doesn’t have secrets…and I would know. I’m his twin! But has Freddy been blackmailing Xander? And did Xander know Freddy was cheating on me?
My body goes cold thinking about it.
“So, Xander? Should we all be calling you that?”
“No,” I say a little too harshly. “It’s just a stupid nickname from back home.”
“Hey, you okay?” Hayden gives me a strange look. If I didn’t know better, I might even say he looks concerned.
“Yeah…just thinking about Alice.”
Hayden sighs. “It blows, but she’s better off without him. Fredlund is a total asshole—on and off the ice.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Hayden says. “He’s a huge reason we hate the Ice Wolves. He’s a straight-up goon. Gets in fights almost every game. And sure, I do that, too, but only if someone knocks down one of my guys. Fred goes for anyone without reason. And he gets right personal with you, in the worst ways.” Hayden runs a hand through his wavy hair. “And what he did today—total dick move.”
“I know!” I say, feeling so justified in my anger. “I would never do that to him—” I trail off and catch myself. “To my girlfriend.”
“You have a girlfriend?” Hayden sounds surprised.
“Uh no, but if I did.” And then because I can’t help myself, I ask, “What about you?”
Hayden chuckles. “Hah. No girlfriend.”
Okay. I get it. No girlfriend, but girlfriends. I shouldn’t be surprised…just look at him! With his stupid accent, and plaid clothing, and brown tousled hair…he could win Mr. Lumberjack, or whatever.
“Why?” he says, smirking. “Trying to set me up with your sister?”
I jerk forward. “No!”
He laughs. “Chill, Bell. I don’t have a sister, but if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t want her dating a guy like me.”
…
We walk back to the hotel, and the cold breeze is heaven on my flushed face. Hayden and I don’t talk, but it’s an easy silence. It feels like we’ve agreed on a truce tonight, and I don’t want it to end.
“Hey, Hayden,” I mutter once we get in view of the hotel.
“Yeah.”
“Since you’ve decided not to hate me…”
“Who said I decided not to hate you?” he says, but a smile creeps up his face.
“Well, you punched Freddy in the face for me, and we ate pizza together, so I think that means we’re obligatory friends now.”
He pushes me on the shoulder. “I punched Freddy in the face for your sister, and because you’re on my team…but go on.”
“I really want to…no, I need to win tomorrow. So…think you can pass me the puck?”
“What?”
“On the ice!” I say, looking up at him. Come on, he can’t not realize he’s been thwarting me every single game. “Just work with me!”
“Creaming Fred and his little puppies would be sweet.” He gives me a sideways glance. “But the Ice Wolves are a rough team. You ready to play hard against them?”
Honestly, I’ve never been so ready for anything in my entire life. I stick out my hand. “A truce to beat the Ice Wolves?”
Hayden raises his heavy eyebrows. Then his face cracks, and he takes my hand. “A truce to beat the Ice Wolves.”
Chapter Six
Hayden
I blink sweat out of my eyes and focus on my heavy breathing to drown out the roar of the crowd. Ice Wolves fans are never the most welcoming to us, especially when we’re leading 3-1. Now there’s five minutes left in the third, but I know every minute counts.
Fredlund flies down the ice with the puck, darting through our defense. Dammit! He may be the hugest asshole on the planet, but he can be dangerous with that puck. Now it’s just him and our goalie—I can almost hear the buzzer ringing in my head.
Suddenly, Bell appears out of nowhere. He drags his stick, whizzes to the right—and takes off with the puck. I blink dumbly for a few seconds before I get my ass in gear and hightail it to the deep-end. Bell passes it to me, and the net gapes open.
But Bell’s quicker than I am and already in position. His gaze meets mine—an electric shock. I could take the shot from here… Instead, I pass and the puck sails across the ice, hitting Bell’s stick square in the centre.
He shoots and…the light flashes! The buzzer goes off! Another goal for Tremblay and Bell!
My teammates crowd around me, and I relish every second, every pat on the back, every hack-eyed grin. But I look through the sea of jerseys for number forty-four. Bell stands on the outskirts of our huddle, giving me a stupid grin.
I fight my way out of a sea of gloves and bodies and swing an arm around Bell. “Not a bad goal, rookie.”
“Yeah,” he says, looking away from me. “It was an all right pass.”
I laugh. Bell and I have been on fire tonight. Every time I needed the puck, he was right there to pass to me. And every time I set up a play, it’s like he was reading my mind, skating exactly where I needed him to be. I guess I may have discredited him before—
Suddenly, Bell’s jerked out from under my arm. At first, I think it’s another one of the boys congratulating him on his goal, but then I see the bright turquoise flash of an Ice Wolves jersey.
“What the fuck, Xander?” Fredlund has Bell by the jersey, his face bursting with sweat and veins, like an angry red blister, ready to pop. “What kind of shit are you trying to pull?”
Bell’s face drains of color, and I can see the white all around his eyes. Fredlund towers over him, the bulk of his body enshrouding Bell in shadow. Fredlund pulls back his fist and Bell shuts his eyes.
In a single instant, I body slam Fredlund, tearing Bell out of his grip. I ca
tch my balance then draw my arm back, pounding away at his smug face.
“Hayden!” a high-pitched voice screeches, and Bell yanks me back. The whole team descends on us, and the refs fight their way in, one grabbing my arm, and the other with a hand on Fredlund’s shoulder. He wipes his bloody nose and stares at Bell.
“Don’t fuck things up for me, Xander,” he snarls. “You wouldn’t want your secret getting out to the whole league.”
Bell stares blankly, then turns away.
Once we’re all separated, the refs dole out penalties. Bell and I sit together in the penalty box.
“What am I even doing in here?” Bell groans. “I didn’t start anything.”
“Fredlund really hates you.”
“Yeah.” His mouth guard dangles from the corner of his mouth. “Uh, so thanks for that. Coach’s going to kill you for getting in another fight.”
I look over at Coach Z, who just nods at me. “I think this time he might make an exception.”
Bell looks up at me. “Why’s that?”
A smile crosses my face. “Maybe this time, I found the right reason to fight.”
Bell must still be out of breath, as his face turns a billion shades of red. I hand him the water bottle.
“So how’d you know how to steal the puck from Fredlund back there?” I say.
“Oh, uh, it was pretty easy to tell what he was gonna do,” Bell says, scratching his skate against the ground. “I taught him that move.”
“Hah!” I throw my head back and laugh. “You would have thought he’d have remembered that! Well, you did good, Bell. You stayed pretty calm when Fred was going apeshit at you.”
Bell doesn’t say anything for a long time. I flick my eyes away from him and stare at the penalty timer, slowly ticking down the seconds.
“I just,” Bell finally says, his voice almost a squeak, “didn’t want to fight him.”
“You gotta fight eventually,” I say. The penalty timer finally runs out, and we stand. “Maybe I have a few things to teach you, Bell.”
Bell raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, well maybe I have a few things to teach you, too.” He jumps onto the ice.
“Hey!” I call, and he looks back at me. “What was Fredlund talking about earlier? About your secret?”
Bell touches his chest with his glove. “Me? I don’t have any secrets.”
Chapter Seven
Alice
The day I get home from Detroit, I’m a mess of nerves. I pace around my bedroom, then up and down the stairs, go to the kitchen and make a sandwich but can’t eat. I go back to my bedroom, open my duffel bag to unpack, but it’s like I’ve forgotten where everything goes.
I need to talk to Xander. I need to know what this secret is.
My pulse roars in my ears: I wish I could just go to the rink and skate all this anxiety out. Everything makes sense on the ice. When did my life become so complicated? How did Hayden Tremblay become the good guy and Xander the bad one?
I throw myself on my bed and bury my head under the pillows. Maybe if I take a long enough nap, all of my problems will have just disappeared when I wake up—
“Hey, you feeling okay?”
I turn to see Xander sticking his head through the doorway. My mouth is dry, and I can’t even say hello.
“Did everything go okay in Detroit?” Xander asks cautiously.
“Yeah, we creamed the Ice Wolves.” I could keep it at that, not saying anything more, and burying the memories of the bonfire as deep as I can. But instead, it’s like the fire erupts within my chest, and anger and sadness well up until I have to say it. “Xander…did you know Freddy was cheating on me?”
Xander stumbles back as if I just shot an arrow into his shoulder. “W-what?”
I look down and pick at a hangnail. “We went to the Ice Wolves’ bonfire the night before the game. Freddy was making out with some girl.”
“I-I d-don’t…” Xander stutters, then suddenly his face hardens. “What do you mean you went to the bonfire? Alice! You could have got caught!”
I stand up. “No, you got caught lying to me. Freddy saw me and thought I was you, obviously, and—”
“What did he say?”
I take a breath, then spill it all: Freddy’s warning about Xander’s secret, Hayden punching him out, and Freddy’s taunt at the game.
My brother’s face falls, his skin pale and eyes faraway. All the anger in me simmers down to ash. “Xander,” I whisper, “I’m not mad. Just tell me what’s going on so I can do something about it.”
Xander stays silent for seconds that feel like years. A million thoughts go through my head: Have I said the wrong things? Should I go hug him?
Finally, he says, “There’s nothing you can do, Alice. Just drop it.”
“What’s this secret?” I say, voice rising. “You can tell me! It’s me!”
“There’s no secret!” Xander snaps and turns away. “I can’t believe you’d go to the bonfire… I told you to lay low!”
“Wait, so I’m the bad guy?” I say. “You lied to me…”
“It’s my life you’re messing with, Alice—”
“It’s my life, too!”
“Just drop it!” Xander roars. He buries his face in his hands. “Alice, please. Just stick to the ice. Just play the damn game! That’s it!”
My heart drums slow and hard in my chest. “Fine,” I say quietly. “If there’s no secret, then there’s no reason for me to stay with Freddy. I guess I’ll just break up with him.”
Xander pauses in my doorway for a moment and then says, “I told you he was an asshole.”
“Yup,” I whisper. “But you still chose him over me.”
“I didn’t mean to—” Xander says, still without looking at me. “Just do what you have to do.” He walks away, and I hear his door slam.
I lie on my bed for an hour staring at the ceiling. How could Xander not tell me his secret? What could be so bad, he couldn’t even trust me with it? I clutch my cell phone in my hand. Robotically, I dial Freddy’s number.
His familiar voice answers right before it was about to hit voicemail.
A small part of me wants to scream at him, call him out on all his lies, and throw every nasty word in the book at him. A bigger part of me just wants to hang up.
“Hey, it’s Alice,” I whisper.
I think it takes less than a minute to break up with him. It’s the distance, I say. I’m overwhelmed with the women’s league and figure skating and school. I’ll miss him very much.
He grunts a: “Yeah, no worries. Makes sense.”
“Bye, Freddy,” I say.
“Wait, Alice,” he says, his voice losing a bit of its confidence. “Did Xander say anything to you?”
I take a deep breath. I’m not an actor like Xander or Madison, but I need to pull this off. “No, I haven’t talked to him since he got home. Why?”
“No reason. See ya around.”
“Bye.”
I bury my face in my hands and take a deep breath. My whole body feels numb. Maybe Xander says there’s no secret, and maybe there isn’t. But just in case, no matter how badly I want to chew Freddy out for what he did, I have to protect my brother.
I take a deep breath. Xander’s right. I have to let Freddy and this secret go and just concentrate on what’s important: the game.
Chapter Eight
Hayden
Bell’s ratty car pulls up to the rink. Heh. I’m kind of surprised he showed. I thought for sure he was going to bail on this. It’s been a couple of weeks since our road trip to Detroit, and since it seems like I won’t be getting rid of this rookie anytime soon, it only makes sense to put him to work. He needs to learn how to hold his own in a fight, and eh, maybe I could use a few pointers on how to control my temper.
He gets out of the car, his hockey bag slung over his shoulder. He’s swimming in an oversize sweatshirt and baggy jeans. A ball cap smushes down his shaggy hair.
“Okay,” I say, “so what should we do fir
st? Fighting or…y’know, working on my temper thing.”
“Definitely the fighting thing,” Bell says. “Because by the time that’s done, I’m sure you’ll have lots of anger you’ll need to control.”
We’ve got a few days off from playing, so I thought I’d take Bell down to the rink and teach him a thing or two about standing your ground while fighting. We’ve played a couple games since the one against the Ice Wolves, and I guess Coach Z thinks we make a good team, because he keeps playing us on the same line.
I guess I finally have to admit to myself that the kid’s a good player, and he gets better every game. Soon, the other teams are going to notice, and he’s going to become a target. He’d better at least learn how not to have some goon rip off his jersey.
I mean, I’m not gonna be responsible for him…but I can at least make sure he doesn’t become an ice pancake.
We head out onto the ice, and Bell skates a couple laps. He’s a natural, more comfortable in skates than sneakers.
“All right, let’s get started.” I skate over to him. “Gloves off. You’re in a fight, aren’t you?”
Bell nods, wearing that deer-in-the-headlights look I’ve become accustomed to. I chuckle and raise my hands, and he copies me. I reach over and grab his right arm. “So you want to try and hold back the other guy’s punching arm. Stop him from going at you.”
Bell reaches up and grabs my arm. He’s so much shorter than I am, it’s almost funny.
“You can also grab onto the other player’s jersey,” I say, twisting my hand in his hoodie. Bell pushes me away and skates backward.
I laugh. “Dude, I’m not going to actually fight you! Chill out!”
“Yeah, uh, I know that,” he says, sticking his hands in his hoodie. He looks everywhere but at my face before skating back. “Okay, uh, yeah, whatever.”
I raise my eyebrows and reach for his hoodie again—slowly this time. “Cool?”
Bell looks up at me, and his eyes are wide, questioning…as if he wants something from me but doesn’t know how to ask. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a high whisper. “Cool.”
The way he’s watching me—it weirds me out, but I don’t back away. “All right,” I say, “follow my lead.”