Aaron

"You know what sucks more than losing?" Sam asks, shrugging off his sweaty t-shirt.

"What?"

"The tongue lashing we are about to get from Coach in about five minutes."

Everyone visibly flinches from Sam's words, the words ringing in their ears as if coach is going to manifest himself right now in front of them. I drag my legs to walk but they feel like they are made of iron and wood. I went to the infirmary, but the nasty bruise on my shoulder also needed a painkiller along with that soothing ointment and a sympathetic glance from the Doctor.

But that isn't even the worst part; we lost. Brutally.

The first half was magical. We moved like fluid, keeping an edge of four points over Boston College. But I don't know what happened in the second half. All we know is that they unleashed their beast mode and we went down at a lightning speed.

Logan got hot-headed, missed a very easy goal, got into a brawl and got benched. I collided with Drew Reynolds and we both went tumbling down on the ice and I sprained my shoulders. Dean, being the stupid shit that he is, decided to go drink last night and had to play with a hangover. Or at least, pretend to play. Only he knows the meaning of the clownery he did out there.

"Do you think he's going to suspend me?" Logan asks, rubbing an ice pack over his, now purple, jaw.

"You're the team captain," I snort, "I don't think you'll be suspended."

"You're safe, man, at least you didn't come to play drunk," Dean slams a locker door shut, the vibrations reverberating through the room.

"Yeah man, what the hell was that about?" Hunter asks, irritated.

"Are you out of your mind?" Will, who's usually the quietest and most reserved among us, chirps us.

"I am sorry, guys," Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, "I-I just...I didn't know it'd be so terrible the morning after."

"What did you expect after getting drunk?" Logan snaps, "That it'd be all roses and rainbows and it'll have the same effect as drinking milk."

It wasn't the sound of Logan, friend, boyfriend, a kind and sometimes a sassy person. No, this was the unyielding sharpness of a Captain leaking through. A side of him we rarely got to witness, unless provoked. Captain Logan was a hard, disciplined and sharp man and usually kept under a tight leash.

"I am sorry, Logan" Dean lowers his eyes and answers gravely, "It wont happen again."

"It better not."

I straighten my spine at the rough, but angry voice booming from the threshold. Even Logan looked scared as he acknowledged him.

"Coach."

"Captain Logan," Logan doesn't even flinch from his tone, "What a mess of your team."

"I am sorry, Coach," I am a bit wobbly on my feet, my ankle still sore from my fall. Big mistake.

"Oh, Princess!" Coach says cheerily, "Were you wearing heels on the rink? Is your leg okay? Are your dainty slippers okay?"

"I am sorry for that. I lost balance."

"Lost balance? Aaron, should I send you to learn how to skate with eight-year-olds? How can you lose balance?"

"It wasn't his fault, Coach" Hunter steps in, "Drew slammed into him."

"And he should have held his footing!"

"It wont happen again," Logan rubs his purple jaw, "We'll practice more, we promise."

"Oh it's hurting now?" Coach isn't finished yet apparently, "That's what happens when you decide to play WWE matches in the middle of a game, you morons!"

I have to give it to Logan, he stands his ground and doesn't even flinch from Coach's razor sharp words. The freshmen behind us, have gone white and are looking at us, with a wide eyed reverence. They don't have anything to fear. Among all of us, they were probably the best. One of them, I think his name is Alex, played alarmingly well. I think we can all bet who the next captain is going to be.

"We're sorry, Coach," Dean's voice is low, his head down.

"My son," Coach says with a menacing calmness, "If I ever catch you stumbling like a professional alcoholic on the rink again, you'll be kicked out before you can say alcohol."

"I never expected this performance from any of you!"

I know better than to take Coach's words by heart. Coach doesn't mean half of the things he says; he is a hot-headed person and he has to be. Controlling and making eleven bulky men fear you, requires you to have a sharp tongue.

But that doesn't mean his words don't hurt. Coach's words reminds me of Dad's. I thought I wouldn't have to hear it at every corner of my life, now that I am in college. But the damage has already been done.

Images flash in my mind. Ten year old Aaron slipping on the ice continuously and spraining his ankle. His father telling him he expected better from a ten year old. Fifteen year old Aaron losing the first spot in a Maths Olympiad and his father screaming at him to do better, that he expected better. Seventeen year old Aaron finally gathering up the courage to tell his father about not going into business but rather going for science, like he wanted, after two weeks of stalling and his father telling him that he expected nothing better from him other than to waste his time in an useless research degree.

"It won't happen again, Coach." Will speaks up, from the corner of the last locker, "We promise."

Coach looks at him for a moment, probably searching in his mind, for what he did wrong. He won't come up with anything; Will was a deathly force on the field. Razor sharp focus, with a bullseye aim.

He probably realizes it too, "Aaron, I want you on the track field from tomorrow at six sharp."

"Yes, Coach."

"All of you, I want you at seven. Sharp. You're late for even a minute, you can say goodbye to your spot on the team."

The pain in my shoulder flares up hearing that but I nod my head along with everyone else. I guess we can say goodbye to our late night parties from now on. Tuck ourselves in bed at ten every night.

"Do you understand, boys?!"

A strong chorus of approval waves through the room, more from fear than motivation to actually do better. But I know my team, I know they are going to give their all in the next match. Losing doesn't sit well with us. I need to get my balance in order.

"Oh another thing, Aaron," Coach calls out.

"Yeah?"

"Your girlfriend is screaming herself hoarse trying to get in here," He pinches the bridge of his nose, "She threatened the security with her car keys."

Logan clamps a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking from muffled laughter. Hunter snorts beside me and it takes every bit of my self-control to not throw myself off a cliff or go and kiss her in front of everyone.

"I don't have a girlfriend," my voice comes out strained. It's just one more word and I am going to be on the floor.

"Blonde, feisty, always mouths off? She was screaming your name," Coach ask warily.

"He knows her," Will waves a dismissive hand, "Real question is what did she do?"

"She used the car keys as a knife and told the guard she'd spill his blood if she wasn't allowed to meet Aaron."

That is the undoing everyone needs before they all stump down their laughter. If Lexie can hear even one of us laughing at her...I don't even want to think which of our organs will she feed us.

"You sound scared Coach," Will remarks, humor glinting in his eyes.

"Dear God, yes I am," Coach says dryly, "Her friend was trying to pull her away but it clearly didn't affect her much."

I can take a huge guess that the friend in observation is Ellie. I saw them both together on the bleachers. Almost got knocked out cold by a hockey stick when I saw her looking at me like that. I couldn't see much, but I could spot black jeans ripped on her knees and red slashed on her top and lips.

"Imagine the wreck she causes on a daily basis," Coach says.

"Nothing I cant handle," I give him one of my best smiles and sprint down the hallway after her.

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HI! I am so sorry for not last week, but to make up for it, i have a couple of super steamy chapters under my arm so be ready!!