Jesse and the Ice Princess (Gulf City High Book 1)

by Michelle MacQueen

  "Nah, I have faith in you." He flashed her another grin as they stopped at the locker rooms. "Go change and meet us on the ice."

  She entered the room and spun the dial on the only locker with an actual lock on it. Inside her figure skates taunted her. If she wanted to help these guys with their skating for hockey, she needed to be on an even playing field.

  After changing into leggings and an Under Armor shirt, she ran a hand over her braid—the same style she'd worn her hair in every day for as long as she could remember.

  But this wasn't a normal day.

  She'd never admit it to Jesse, but she was looking forward to skating with the team. Making a quick decision, she unwound her braid, combing her fingers through her chocolate hair.

  Brushing it back, she pulled it into a ponytail. The end brushed her back every time she moved her head. With a smile, she walked into the storage room between the locker rooms, using the code she knew by heart to gain entry. Her father kept all spare skates here, only taking them out for public skating sessions on the weekends.

  Sifting through them, she found her size.

  Back in the locker room, she laced up the skates and stood, testing the weight of them. It had been many years since she wore hockey skates.

  She stood in front of the mirror and nodded to herself. Try calling her an ice princess now.

  By the time she reached the end of the tunnel, the rest of the team was running through drills on the ice.

  Roman was the first to see her. "Is that Charlotte Morrison looking all sporty?"

  Jesse laughed. "Don't say sporty, dude." He skated over as she stepped onto the ice and grinned down at her hockey skates. "Sure that's a good idea?"

  "I actually learned to skate in hockey skates." She shrugged. "It's much easier than figure skates."

  "Whatever you say." He skated backward as she moved away from the wall. "Just remember, there's no—"

  She yelped as her feet flew out from under her and her hands slammed into the ice, sending pain through her wrist.

  "Toe pick." Jesse had the decency to suppress his smile as he held a hand down. "There's no toe pick."

  She let him pull her up. "Yeah, got that. Thanks." Shaking out her wrist, she lifted her eyes to find the entire team watching her. "Wonderful."

  "It's okay. Most of them can't stay on their feet for long either."

  "I can stay on my feet," she grumbled.

  "Oh, I remember. I was there this morning."

  She couldn't forget that or the words he’d said. She’s a robot.

  "You look different." She shrank under his scrutiny. Good different or bad different? Was it just her hair?

  But she didn't ask any of that because her dad stopped in front of them, spraying ice their way—one of his favorite things to do in the rare times they skated together.

  His gaze lingered on her hockey skates before finding her face and giving her a kind smile. "Hey, Charlie. I'm glad you're here today."

  Was he really? Would he still be glad if he found out the reason she'd come was because the principal made her?

  "I'm not sure exactly what you guys want me to do here." She was so far out of her element she didn't know where to begin.

  Jesse nudged her shoulder. "Skate a few laps first. Get used to the hockey skates."

  "Then what? You want me to show them how to keep their edges? Tricks for remaining balanced and fluid?"

  "They've all taken skating lessons before." Jesse waved her questions away. "If they don't know that stuff now, they'll never learn it."

  "Then why am I here?"

  He met her gaze. "Because, Charlie, I have never seen anyone on this team move the puck up the ice like you. I don't only want you for your skating skills. I want you because—whether you believe it or not—you have kick-butt hockey skills."

  "Oh." She looked from Jesse to her dad who looked just as surprised by that revelation. For years, people were only interested in her because she could land a triple axel or perform a tight death spiral.

  She'd never considered she had anything else to give.

  "Go do a few laps," her dad said softly.

  She started forward, glancing back over her shoulder to where her dad was in a very heated discussion with Jesse. He probably didn't want her showing anyone she could be more than what her mother planned for her.

  Her parents had always been a dual unit, making decisions together and never questioning each other. Her dad's kindness sometimes softened her mom's harsh tones, but it was the things he didn't say that spoke volumes.

  The times he didn't tell his wife to stop berating their daughter, or the discussions he never had about what she wanted to do in life. Not to mention all the time he didn't make for his daughter because he was too busy being a father figure to his hockey players.

  She got the rhythm of the skates easily, her muscles remembered what to do while her mind worked on the problem at hand. This team... Jesse... expected her to be able to help them, but how was she supposed to do that?

  She finished skating and stopped in front of the bench. "What now?" She directed the question to Jesse, but it was her dad that answered.

  "Now, we run drills." He blew his whistle to get the attention of the team.

  "Oh." Charlotte hung back as they followed her dad's instructions and skated onto the ice. A few of them didn't look so bad, but others seemed to wish they could have stayed on that bench.

  She wasn't sure what to do, so she stayed near the half wall and watched the team practice, feeling like she shouldn't be there. There was no point.

  Only a few of the guys could keep the puck on their sticks as they skated. She never imagined they had this many problems.

  Even Hadley could beat two-thirds of them.

  Hadley... the friend who thought she was a spoiled girl who didn't appreciate what she had.

  Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she focused back on the team as they transitioned into a shooting drill.

  Their accuracy was even worse than their skating.

  What was she doing here?

  Jesse broke from the team and skated toward her. "Now you see what I'm working with here?"

  A small smile spread her lips. "Well..."

  "I can't convince your dad to let you run drills with the team."

  Her shoulders dropped. She should have known. "Yeah... he's like that."

  "Does he know?"

  "Know what?"

  "What you can do in those hockey skates." He tapped his stick against her skates.

  She shrugged. Sure, she occasionally shot pucks with her dad in the basement, but he was too busy to see anything else.

  Jesse leaned toward her and dropped his voice. "You should let him see."

  "It's not that simple." She lifted her eyes to where her mom stood behind the glass watching practice, her hard gaze finding her daughter.

  "After the first drills, we always play a short scrimmage before getting into our game plan." He grinned. "Play with us."

  "I don't know." She looked from her mom to her dad, who now watched them as well.

  "Come on. It'll be fun. Show them what you can do, and maybe they'll listen to you."

  "Are you talking about the team or my parents?"

  He winked. "Maybe both."

  Her dad's whistle pierced the air, and the team gathered around him. Jesse gestured for Charlotte to follow him. She was starting to see why he always got his way. It was too hard to resist.

  A few guys from the team looked sideways at her as she joined them. Roman shot her a giant grin, putting her more at ease. Her dad didn't look her way.

  "No-hit scrimmage," he said. "The first person to hit anyone is thrown out. Got it?"

  "Yes, Coach," they said in unison.

  "All right, captains pick teams."

  Jesse skated to the front of the group with Roman at his side. They surveyed the group.

  Charlotte stared down at her skates, feeling more out of place than she had before. Then
she heard her name. "Charlie." Her head jerked up. Jesse chose her. First. She'd never been picked first for anything in her life. Her cheeks heated as she skated to his side amid whispers from the guys around her.

  "Not fair, dude." Roman grimaced before choosing Damien.

  Once the teams were set, Jesse chose his starters, once again shocking Charlotte by starting her on his wing.

  She'd never played an organized game of hockey before, but she'd watched a million NHL games. As she skated to center ice, she met her dad's eyes. He didn't look disapproving, but she couldn't decipher the expression on his face.

  Curiosity, maybe?

  Her mom no longer stood behind the glass, but Charlotte found herself wishing she were here for this too. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as her heart beat fast enough to crack through her chest.

  She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so excited. All worry, all nervousness faded away as she took her position to Jesse's left—across from Damien. He smiled, but she averted her eyes, a need to win ripping through her.

  She'd show all of them.

  Jesse won the face-off, sliding the puck to Charlotte. An underclassman named Riley skated on the opposite wing, but he lagged behind the play, leaving only Charlotte and Jesse streaking up the ice.

  Damien came for her, and she grinned as she slid the puck through his legs, picking it up on the other side before passing to Jesse. He did some spinorama thing and slid it back to her.

  Two defenseman hung back by the goalie. One of them skated out, but she deked him easily, sliding the puck from forehand to backhand and passing it around the second defenseman. Jesse one-timed it top shelf, and it hit the back of the net.

  His arms shot into the air as if he just scored the series winner of the Stanley Cup final.

  Charlotte grinned as he reached her and swept her into a hug.

  They were so busy celebrating, they hadn't realized both teams stood staring at them.

  Jesse released her, and for a moment, she wanted his arms around her again. But this was just hockey, friendship. When she did something great in figure skating, people cheered, but they didn't celebrate with her.

  Her dad skated out onto the ice, his arms crossed over his chest and a look of consternation on his face. She waited for him to reach her, apprehension gnawing at her gut.

  He stopped and gazed down at her. "Charlotte..."

  "I know, dad. I'm not a hockey player. I shouldn't be here. You showed me that when you didn't ask for my help with the drills. Do you want me to leave? Your players should be getting the practice, not me."

  She didn't know how she ended up being the one apologizing.

  "Charlotte, stop." One side of his mouth curved up. "I was going to ask if you thought you could do that again."

  "Oh." She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Probably."

  He nodded before lifting his voice. "Roman, hand me your stick."

  Roman held it toward him. He took it without ever taking his eyes from his daughter. "Okay, everyone other than Charlotte and Jesse off the ice."

  "What are we doing?" Jesse asked.

  "You and Charlotte are going to get the puck up the ice together."

  "But, coach, that's too easy without anyone defending us."

  "I'll be defending you."

  Charlotte swallowed. Her dad was a former NHL player. Sure, he was older now, but still ten times better than anyone on this team.

  "Start at the opposite blue line. I want three passes at least before you reach me at center ice."

  They skated to the other end of the ice, but Charlotte wasn't sure what the point of this even was. "Why is he having us do this when the rest of the team is just sitting on the bench?"

  "He's testing us, Charlie."

  "But... why?"

  Jesse grinned as if it was all a big game. She supposed it was. "Does it matter why? Do that move I saw the other night. The spin-pass thing."

  "But I was only passing to myself. Your timing has to be perfect for it to work."

  "Just trust me."

  Lord help her, she did.

  They started forward with Jesse passing the puck to Charlotte. She puck-handled past the left dot before sliding it back to him. As they reached the neutral zone where her dad waited, she saw Jesse hesitate with her pass.

  Hoping she was right about his intentions, she pumped her legs, gaining some distance. He sent a stretch pass sailing toward her as her dad closed in. He'd reached her by the time she cradled the puck and avoided his poke check.

  Now or never.

  Twisting out of her dad's reach, she spun around, sliding the puck through her own legs before poking it behind her where Jesse was waiting. He gathered the puck and streaked to the goal, lifting the puck into the top corner.

  Her dad stared at her dumbfounded. "Where did you learn that?"

  "Watching the Tampa Bay Lightning on TV." She didn't know what the big deal was. That was how she learned the moves needed to perform some of her biggest figure skating jumps. In her evenings spent alone while her parents were at the rink, she watched a lot of TV, absorbing it all. She just wouldn't tell him about practicing moves downstairs on his Glice surface.

  Hockey had never been a possibility for her because of her mom’s expectations, but it didn't make her love it any less.

  Her dad stared at her a moment longer before he turned to the team. "Forwards, you're Charlotte's for the rest of practice." He looked back over his shoulder. "Work on basic puck handling." Turning back to the team, he surveyed them. "Defenseman and goalies, you're with me at the other end of the ice." He clapped his hands together. "Let's go."

  As the forward group circled around her, no more suspicion clouded their eyes. In one move, she'd become one of them.

  And she'd never been part of anything before.

  11

  Jesse

  "Dude, that girl is epic." Adrian, a senior defenseman snapped Jesse with a damp towel.

  He turned to his locker to hide his smile. She was. He'd only just started realizing just how epic Charlotte Morrison was.

  Roman bumped his shoulder. "Our girl did well."

  "She's not our girl."

  Roman laughed. "Fine, your girl."

  Jesse punched his shoulder. She wasn't that either.

  Roman slammed his locker door and sat on the bench in front of it. "If you'd told me a month ago that the ice princess of Gulf City would run the best practice we'd had all year... well, I'd have called you delusional."

  Despite the name ice princess, Jesse knew Roman was impressed, so he took that as a win. And he wasn't wrong. Despite her protestations, Charlotte was a great teacher. Jesse was now fifty percent sure he could do her spin drop pass move and not lose the puck.

  The other guys on the team... well, a few of them might now be able to hold on to the puck a little longer without staring down at their stick.

  "I'm out." Roman waved from the door. "You sure you don't want a ride?"

  They'd ridden together but Jesse wanted to talk to Coach. He'd catch the bus home. "I'm good. See you tomorrow."

  He finished stuffing his sweaty gear into his bag and hiked it onto his shoulder. Normally, he drove himself to practice, but Cassie needed to borrow his car for an extra session with her therapist. Those appointments were the only reason she'd even gotten her license when she barely left the house.

  He never hesitated to give her the car, though. She was more important than any practice.

  He'd hoped to catch Charlotte to say thanks but assumed she'd already left. On his way to Coach's office, he caught sight of the large glass windows stretching the length of the building. Rain pounded against the glass as thunder cracked through the air.

  A flash of light lit up the gray sky.

  Great, just what he needed, a wet walk to the bus stop.

  He sighed as he knocked on Coach's door. No one answered. He knocked again.

  "He's in the equipment room," a voice said behind him.


  Jesse turned to Charlotte, noting the way she'd braided her wet hair back into her normal pretty style. He preferred her in the more relaxed ponytail, but he'd never tell her that. He was even starting to like the uptight version of this girl.

  "Um..." She fiddled with a set of keys in her hand when he didn't say anything. "Did you want something from him?"

  He wasn't ready to tell her his idea, not until he knew if it was even possible. Shaking his head, he smiled. "I was looking for you."

  Her brows drew together. "I fulfilled my deal with the principal."

  "I know."

  "I don't owe you anything anymore."

  "I know that too."

  Her lips pursed. "Then what do you want with me?"

  "To thank you."

  "Oh."

  His smile widened. "I know I got you into that mess with the principal, and I'm sorry, but I'm glad you were here today."

  She averted her eyes and red crept up her cheeks. "Well... you're welcome?"

  His laugh was cut off by the ringing of his phone. He pulled it out to silence it, but when he saw Cassie's name, he had to answer. "Just a sec," he said to Charlotte. Bringing the phone to his ear, he answered, "Hey, Cass."

  "Jess, I need you. I went to my appointment, and then I was driving home in the rain and the tire… and I had to pull into a parking lot. I can’t get home, and—"

  "Cass, slow down. Are you okay?"

  Her voice quivered. "I... your car has a flat tire. I tried calling Dad, but he didn't answer. I know he has the boys tonight, so it's not like he could come help. Triple A says it'll be like an hour, but I can't sit here by myself that long. What if something happens? What if—"

  "Slow down, we'll figure this out."

  "Can you and Roman come get me? Please?"

  Think, Jesse.

  Roman already left. He pictured his sister freaking out on her own, letting her anxiety get the best of her. And then what would happen when Triple A did show up? She didn't talk to people she didn't know. He imagined her shrinking away in fear. Ever since the day their mom died, he'd needed to protect her, wanted to be there for her.

  "I'll figure it out, Cass. Don't worry. I'm coming."

  She sobbed something unintelligible into the phone before hanging up. Jesse searched the hall, surprised to see Charlotte still standing there. Panic clawed at him. He couldn't let his sister down.