~JACK'S POV~

Still shocked and mad from the encounter with a girl who I appear to be stuck here with for at least a week, I walk down the corridor when I see one of the familiar guys looking at the panel.

"Jimmy Craig."

"Hey, Jack."

"What's up, ya sieve?"

"How's going?"

"Good," I stop next to Jimmy and look at the roster when he speaks up: "Any reason why Joey Mullen's not here?"

"Yeah, about 30,000 of them," my arms cross on my chest as I respond "all sitting on his New York bank account."
Tall brown-haired goalie seems honestly surprised at the amount of money: "30,000 dollars? He got a $30,000 signing bonus?"

"Seems like it. Pretty crazy, isn't it?"
"Crazy indeed."

"How's it lookin'?"

With a grin on his face, he answers while on his way to the locker room: "A lot of guys from Minnesota and Boston?"

I huff and smile a bit. Someone has to have a great sense of humor or a wish to see a bloodbath, what these tryouts will probably turn out to be. Oh, and let's not forget a chick playing as well.

"Yeah, like that's gonna work."

Later, in the locker room, I pull on my pants and reach for a shoulder pad when someone pats my shoulder.

"Yes?" I turn around and see a guy wearing Bowling Green jersey. He stretches his arm: " You are Jack O'Callahan, right? One of the most fearsome guys at the BU?"
"Well...I am the one to drop the gloves, yeah. And you are Kenneth Morrow, right? The star defenseman of Bowling Green? I've heard of you."

"Yeah, that's me. Do you know any of these guys?"
"Guys from Boston. And I know names of few of the Minnesota players."
"Ah, the great rivalry?"

Chuckling, I pull on my shoulder pads and BU jersey over it: "Yeah. I am telling you, this is gonna get interesting."

After few moments of silence, I ask him: "What about you? Anyone familiar?"

"Yeah, I know few of the guys. So, do you know what the coach is like?"

"Seen him on Minnesotan's bench. Seems like a dude who yells a lot. And a person who wants nothing but respect. We'll see how this will work out, how will he handle what Bostonians have for Minnesotans."

~KIMBERLY'S POV~

Right after the sign-in, I was taken away from the rest of the boys to a separate locker room. I lean my stick on the wall and slide my bag all the way across the floor to my stall. Exactly when I am about to change into my gear, someone knocks on the door: "Miss Mayfield, may I come in?"

"Uh, yeah, sure thing."

The door open and reveal one of the coaches: "I am Craig Patrick, Herb's assistant coach and I would like the check whether everything's okay?"
"Yes, sir, everything is fine. I would like to thank you for giving me a separate locker room."

"It was a no problem, but I am afraid if you make the team, you'll have to share the locker room with the guys. In case there will be no free locker rooms, of course."
"I understand, sir."
"Please, call me Coach Patrick, don't call me sir."
"Okay, si- Coach Patrick."

"And one more thing, Herb ordered me to ask you whether you are serious about the tryouts?"

"Yes, I am serious. I would like to prove myself."
"Alright then. See you after the tryouts."
And with that he leaves, leaving me to get changed. About fifteen minutes later I am already on the ice and I've never been more nervous in my entire life. Not only I barely know anyone, but I am also the only girl.

"Hey, look at you. Nice jersey," someone chuckles behind my back, making me turn around.

"Neal. Thought you gave up and went home."
"Please, I'd never do that. Well, how's everything going?"
"I-I don't know. It's like I am only now realizing this is all true...I am kinda nervous."
"Trust me, we all are. But you must be hell of a good player to be called here and I believe you can make it."
"Thanks. So, I guess it's time to wish you a good luck, right?"
"Good luck to you too," he smiles and nudges my sides with the end of his stick. I chuckle a bit and my gaze slips across the ice when my eyes meet with eyes of that blonde guy I told earlier to get lost. I tighten my grip around the stick and squint my eyes, him doing the same thing. Then a smug grin draws on his lips, which turns into an evil smirk into a next second. Well, I guess that really hurt his ego...

~JACK'S POV~

I see her glaring at me from the other side of the ice and I glare right back at her. My legs might be on the ice, but there is only one thing on my mind is, how will I get my revenge. But too bad I can't do much here, I can only hope she will make the team so I can get my payback.

I join the group of guys from Boston and pour my anger into slap shots, which I take continuously and with no mercy for the goalie.

"Hey, what did the pucks do to you?" Silky laughs and take a shot after I do. I turn to look at him, making sure the others are busy shooting pucks or doing drills or skating.

"It pisses me off I can't do a damn thing during the tryouts and I can only hope that chick will make the team."

"You mean...what's her name again? From Brown University?"
"Yeah, her. It'd be a dumb idea to, ya know, try to beat her up with all those coaches around when those tryouts are our tickets to the Olympics."

"What makes you think she'd make it? She is a girl after all."

"Just look at her."

We both take a quick glimpse at the Brown girl, who works with the group of Minnesotans. She really know what she's doing, I give her that. She is fast, moves stick so fast I can barely see what she's doing and apparently, has a great vision on the ice.

"Well... she does have lots of potential... Guess you'll see her some more," Silky grins and gets ready for another round of shooting.

Surprisingly, I cannot get the image of her playing out of my head. And that pisses me off even more. I, Jack O'Callahan, did not sign up for this. I didn't come all the way to Colorado to have my mind occupied with some girl playing hockey.

~KIMBERLY'S POV~

Since Minnesotans guys were the first I met, I join them on their spot of the ice. One of the older players, if not the oldest, William "Buzz" Schneider, seems to have practically adopted me. But the first thing I learn about him is that he's just gotten married with his long-term girlfriend.

"How long have you been married then?"
"It will be...four months next week," he smiles lightly, but it seems he does really miss her.

"Aww, so the ink hasn't dried yet?"
"Not quite yet. What about you, did you leave a guy behind?"
"Eh, nope. I am not really into that. So far, school is my priority."
Okay, no one needs to know about my summer romances or school crushes, especially not a guy who has just tied a knot.

"But that doesn't mean I do not notice guys," I continue with a grin, which grows wider when one of the guys drapes his arm around me: "Well that's good news. Mike Ramsey."

"Kimberly. Nice to meet you, Ramsey, but nope, not interested. Sorry."

He fakes a pout and looks at me with big eyes: "Why not?"
"Because I don't even know you. Don't look at me like that, Mike," I chuckle and smack his pads with a stick. He immediately stops pouting and returns me a smack.

"Hey, you two, there will be plenty of time for that later! If you make the final roster, so focus on the game, yeah?" Buzzy laughs and rolls his eyes. It must be entertaining for him to see younger players act childish while he is grown-up enough to be already married.

"Yes, sir," I salute and earn chuckle from few of the boys.

"Hey, Kim, that guy in Boston jersey keeps glaring daggers at you," Buzz tells me after some time of doing the drills.

"Oh, yeah, he does? Well, let me give him something to see then," I mumble and start doing exercises for puck handling. I enjoy the sound of cold rubber sliding across the ice, wood smacking against it and the ice. I enjoy in the familiar muscle pain and feeling of sweaty drops starting to gather on my forehead. Let him stare, guess he has never seen anything like that before. 

When I finish the drill, I look at his direction only to notice he is not looking anymore. And against my own will, a tiny wave of sadness flashes through my body.

I've never given that much about some annoying guy's attention, but I guess air in this arena is colder and it must've frozen my mind for a bit. Jack O'Callahan is someone I should not pay attention to. Not now, not ever. End of story.