"Did she seriously just reject me?"

Nick tilted his head and looked at me, a look of disapproval on his face. He stared me down for a few seconds before shaking his head and turning his focus back to his skates.

"I'm serious, Nick. Why would she reject me?" It didn't make any sense. I had never been rejected before, and for good reason. My good looks and killer charm were hard to turn down.

Nick continued to focus on tying his skate laces in the routine that he had developed since year one. Hockey is a sport of superstition. Not every player had one, but those who did followed it closely.

I had my very own routine, which I created back at age six. There were a few minor changes since the original version, but most of the pattern stayed the same. Protective gear. Shorts, then socks. Right skate. Left skate. Quick kiss on the "0" in the 10, my jersey number, before slipping the green and yellow top on. Helmet. Tighten the straps around my chin. Right glove. Left glove. Stick. Game time.

Once Nick was ready and dressed, he finally replied to my pressing question. "Jennifer rejected you. Last week. It's time to move on, Caleb. You have more important things to focus on, like today's practice. It's your second chance to impress Coach. You do want to get back on the team, right?"

"I do." Hockey played a big part in my life. I had to get back on the ice. Not only for the scouts, but for myself. Sitting on the bench or in the stands just felt wrong.

"So get dressed, get on the ice and put on a good show for Coach Stone. We can talk about Jennifer after the practice."

"Thanks." Nick had that steady presence that kept me, and the rest of the team, in line. He just knew how to handle our many issues.

"Don't sweat it."

Nick and I had discussed the tactic for this practice. As much as I hated Nick's suggestion, we both knew he was right. I had to at least play the part of a team player in order to win Coach Stone over. That was the only way to guarantee playing time during this important stretch in the season.

I went through my pregame routine and made my way down the corridor to the ice. The way the dark corridor parted into the arena lights was almost heavenly. It was one of the best parts about playing. Hearing your name being called out by fans as you emerged from the darkness. A sense of mysteriousness, like Batman but on skates.

Of course, the best part was putting the puck in the net.

The moment my freshly sharpened skates touched the smooth sheet of ice, my natural instincts came on in full throttle. I was determined to put on an impressive showing and blow Coach Stone away with my abilities.

Adrenaline raced through my body and I tore up the warmup lap, beating the next guy by a comfortable margin. I was ready to play.

"Nice hustle, Caleb, but try not to kill yourself before practice actually starts," Coach hollered from the benches, where he had a clipboard and other practice materials set up.

I just nodded in response. My focus was locked into performing up to standard. Once I was locked in, nothing could rattle me.

Absolutely nothing.

I breezed through the first few drills easily. They were elementary passing and shooting drills, designed to get us warmed up and ready for the more difficult drills.

Even though these were basic drills and nobody expected much from them, I treated each attempt as an in-game scenario. Each stride was longer, each pass was crisper and each shot was harder. My efforts were paying off because I noticed Coach Stone nodded after I won yet another sprint.

As the drills became more complex, I kept two words on my mind. Team player. That was the goal of this session. That was what I had to show in order to get back on the roster. That was what Coach Stone will be seeing from me.

Whether I actually believed the concept or not didn't matter. What mattered was that I could put on a convincing enough act to make Coach Stone think I bought into his words.

The rest of the practice went by without any issues. On the offense drills, I went against every fiber in my body and set up my teammates with passes where I would have normally shot. On defense, I guarded relentlessly and kept my player out of the action.

On one occasion, I even dropped to the ice and blocked a shot with my body. That wasn't typical of me, given the possible injuries that could happen, but today called for a different approach.

The puck came whizzing in and caught me under the rib cage. If it wasn't for the chest protector, the shot would have probably caused a bone fracture. Still, there was probably going to be a notable bruise on the spot.

I laid on the ice for a few extra seconds, wincing from the impact. It was just practice. Given that no one else had anything to prove, who put that much muscle into their shot?

The shooter skated away to rejoin the action and I caught a glimpse of the back of his jersey. O'Connor, #9.

Nick. Of course.

The final drill was a two-on-one offense simulation and I was partnered up with Nick. Playing defense on us was Luke, a tall sophomore who had established himself as one of the best in his position.

The two-on-one drill was particularly fun for forwards because it allowed for freedom of choice. If Luke covered me, I could pass it off to Nick. If Luke cut off that option, I could just walk in and shoot. The odds were always in our favor.

Our runs went as well as anyone could design it. Nick, being the playmaker of our duo, picked up the puck and fed me with perfect passes. I made no mistake and buried all my shots. When Coach Stone told us to reverse roles, we did just that. I made the passes and Nick finished it off. Luke didn't stand a chance against our partnership.

After practice came to an end, the team headed back to the dressing rooms to change and shower. I stowed away my skates and was about to take off my jersey when Coach Stone walked in.

"Caleb, come see me in my office."

Coach Stone walked out without any further information. I glanced over at Nick, who was smiling from ear to ear. It seemed like my efforts paid off.

I quickly took off the sweaty jersey and chest protector. Dressed in a gray, long sleeved undershirt and team shorts, I hurried down the hallways to Coach Stone's office.

His door wasn't closed completely, but I knew better than to walk in without permission. I knocked three times and Coach told me to enter. I did just that and saw Coach Stone sitting behind the table, reading the notes that he had written during practice.

"You asked for me, Coach?"

Coach nodded and motioned for me to take a seat. "I'll get straight to the topic. We both know why you're in here." He folded his arms and eyed me. "I was pleased by your efforts today. There was a significant push to fix the areas I thought you were weak in. Hustle. Positive energy. Team play."

Maybe that blocked shot was worth it after all. "Thanks, Coach."

"I'll be honest with you, Caleb. I'm not one hundred percent convinced in your display today." Apparently, the path back to the team wasn't as direct as I thought.

"What do you mean?"

"I've coached you since you started at Oakcrest, Caleb. I know who you are as a person." Coach Stone's eyes flickered over to the photos on his desk. "One trait that makes you so successful is your determination. It keeps you focused and on course. Unfortunately, that determination sometimes turn into a stubbornness. You're not the type to change your character after a week."

"It's different this time. I really want to be on the ice and make a difference." That was true.

"I'll take your word for it. You're penciled in for Friday's game. Consider it a one game audition. Be a team player, and you're back in the lineup. Be a puck hog, and you're back on suspension. Are we clear?"

"Clear."

Coach held up a hand. "One more thing, Caleb."

"What is it?"

"I know that the upcoming draft is important to you, as it marks the jump from high school to professional hockey. The process isn't easy, but you have to take it one step at a time. Step one is impressing the scouts, and that begins now."

A chill ran down my spine. Not from fear, but from excitement. "Are you telling me that . . . ?"

"Scouts will be in the stands starting Friday, and a large portion will be watching your performance specifically. It's your chance to leave a positive mark heading into the draft. Don't mess this up."

***

"How did it go?" Nick asked as soon as I rejoined him in the hallways.

"Decent. I'm back in the lineup for Friday, but it's basically probation. I have to keep this team play act up to continue. Otherwise, it's back to suspension."

Nick nodded and slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. We hauled our bags out of the school and made our way to the parking lot. With practice finished, it was time to head to the mall. There were a few things, all hockey related, that we needed to pick up. Some hockey tape for Nick and a replacement stick for me, since I snapped the last one into two pieces at the last game.

The conversation continued when we hopped into Nick's hideous orange sedan. As Nick made a right turn out of the parking lot, he commented, "At least it's a start. You can use Friday to pad your case."

"I know, but I shouldn't have to be fighting for a spot. I'm the team leader in scoring. Have you ever seen Sidney Crosby suspended for not being a team player?"

Nick coughed. "Well, team play comes in many different forms. I guess Coach just wants you to take on a different kind of team play."

"Whatever." I threw my arms up and accidentally hit the roof of the car. Nick shot me an accusing glare. "He's the coach. It's his team. I'll have to play by his rules."

"Don't be so negative about things. On the bright side, you can add to your blocked shot stats."

"Speaking of blocked shot," - I glared at Nick, who grinned knowingly - "thanks a lot for the slapshot to the gut."

"You're welcome, buddy. Had to make sure Coach understood what a team player Caleb Dawson could be."

Nick poked me in the spot where the puck had hit me, and I slapped his hand away. Even the slight touch left a stinging feeling. There was definitely going to be a bruise.

The conversation came to a pause as Nick turned on to the I-35. Heading south to Bloomington always made for a great drive. Ten minutes on the freeway and we were in another city.

I stared out the window and quickly zoned out, lost in the sight of passing cars and sound of a trending song. It was a beautiful Saturday. There wasn't a lot of snow for November, and the wind chills had not hit the city yet. It was a shame that I didn't have any plans, aside from the trip to the mall, for such a great day.

Complaining about a lack of plans almost felt wrong, since our destination, the Mall of America, was the largest and arguably best equipped mall in all of the country. There was a mirror maze, an aquarium and even an amusement park built into the ninety seven acre building.

Still, heading to the mall with Nick had a different vibe. We usually went to the mall to get some food or buy a few random things, but Nick and I hardly ever used any of the other entertainment options, at least not when it was just the two of us. It would be a little awkward, like it was a date. And speaking of dates . . .

"We have to talk about Jennifer."

Nick chuckled as he made a left turn into the mall parking lot. "For someone who was reluctant to go to the movies with us, you sure are interested in Jennifer."

"I'm not interested," I replied defensively. "I'm just shocked that she turned me down. No one ever does that."

"Well, different people have different tastes. You can't expect everyone to like you."

"I know. Your girlfriend is a prime example of someone who doesn't like me."

"Leave Madison out of this." Nick glared at me, before reversing the car into a parking spot. As he turned off the ignition and stepped out of the car, I responded with a whip sound to honor a fallen brother.

We made our way into the mall and spend a whole hour finding the things that we needed. There were over five hundred stores in the building, so we usually ended up buying more than what we came for. Today was no different. Nick ended up doing some Christmas shopping while I picked up some new earbuds.

By the time we made our way to the food court, both of us were exhausted and glad to be seated. I liked to think that our fitness levels were quite high but that was a lot of walking. Especially after a long practice. My quads were both sore and aching from the sprints.

It wasn't quite dinner time, but we badly needed some food for fuel so we picked up a quick mini meal. Nick and I weren't particularly picky with our food, but we had routines established by a dietitian. Most hockey players, especially those who were serious about playing professional, had one to ensure that their bodies were up to standard. Every little aspect was inspected with great details. The levels of carbs, proteins and fats in our bodies were monitored regularly. It might sound bothersome, but the results didn't lie. Eating well did translate to better performance.

That was exactly why I felt a slight sense of guilt as I dug into a juicy double cheeseburger while Nick worked away at his chicken salad. One of us allowed for cheat days; it wasn't hard to tell who.

"I don't think Jennifer dislikes me. I think she's hiding something."

Nick shook his head and laughed. "You're quite persistent about this, Caleb. Are you sure it's her that's interested and not you?"

"I mean, she's cute."

Nick looked up from his salad and smirked at me. It was true. Jennifer was rather attractive. Her kind of beauty was different from what I was used to. No heavy makeup and tight dresses, but instead, it was her natural facial features that made her easy to look at.

She had chocolate brown hair that flowed straight down on either side of her face, stopping at a shoulder length height. A set of round glasses covered her eyes, but I noticed that her eyes were the same color as her hair. Her nose was long and pointy, and it helped with the whole smart look that fit quite well on her.

Still, all of those qualities didn't mean anything important. I quickly backtracked, "Just because she's not ugly doesn't mean I want a relationship or anything. I have standards. I'm just persistent because I can't think of why she would reject someone like me."

"Well, maybe it was just wrong time, wrong place." I prompted Nick for an explanation and he continued, "You know how close Jennifer and Madison are. Maybe she didn't want to accept your offer because Madison was around. You know Madison wouldn't be too pleased about that."

"So what do you suggest I do?" On ice, Nick was the playmaker and I was the goal scorer. Off ice, the balance was the same. Nick was the brains and I reaped the benefits.

"Like I said, wrong place wrong time. You just have to try at a later time."

"When is this said later time?"

Nick grinned, and I knew he had a solution already. "Well, Christmas is just over a month away and that means another annual Nick's Ugly Christmas Sweater Party is around the corner."

"Nick's Christmas Sweater Party," I corrected him.

"Nick's Ugly Christmas Sweater Party," Nick repeated. "Ugly Christmas sweaters is the name of a type of clothing. You can't just take out a word."

"I know." A wicked grin crossed my face as I delivered the punchline. "It's just that Nick and ugly are kind of repetitive, so I thought it would be useful to cut out the extra word. Or shall I just call it Ugly Christmas Sweater Party then?"

Nick responded wordlessly, opting to go for the one finger salute. I laughed it off. The gesture didn't even bother me. Nick was probably the most even tempered person around, so getting under his skin was quite the accomplishment. Of course, no one had nearly as much success in this category as I did.

"As I was saying, the party is coming up and I think that would be a great time to try again. The festive season really does well to set up a romantic atmosphere. There will be Christmas music playing, an abundance of food and drinks, the fireplace will keep us nice and warm from the snow outside. It's literally what every Christmas romance film is made of."

"You sound quite educated in this area," I pointed out.

"That's what happens when you have a girlfriend. Madison makes me watch those sappy Hallmark films every Christmas break."

"Speaking of Big Red," - Nick grunted and shot a glare in my direction - "I mean, Madison, won't she be at the Christmas party too? It's just going to be like the whole movies thing. She'll get in the way and Jennifer will turn me down. Again."

"Someone is desperate for success," Nick remarked with a slight smirk.

I rolled my eyes. No matter how Nick wanted to paint the picture, I wasn't falling for Jennifer. I was just out to prove a point: no one rejected Caleb Dawson.

"I'm just trying to protect my wounded ego."

Nick covered his mouth in fake shock. "Someone put a dent on your ego? What a special individual. That ego of yours is the third strongest thing in the world, behind diamonds and our military."

"Very funny."

Nick shrugged, as though to admire his retaliation piece for my earlier comment. I still won that battle. "To answer your question, yes, Madison will be there, but no, she will not get in your way. It's a party. There will be lots of people. I, for one, will keep her distracted. That leaves you with a golden opportunity to make your move."

"I'll see what happens."

"This is rather entertaining. For someone whose confidence would tip any scale, you sure are rattled by Jennifer."

I threw my hands up in defeat. "Think what you will, Nick. I'm just stunned by the fact that she said no. As you said, I'm persistent about things. I am only doing this because I don't like hearing 'no', and I don't plan on hearing it again. I am asking Jennifer out again because I have to prove a point."

"The point being that you like her."

"No!" I practically shouted. A few heads turned out of interest, only to turn away moments later. "The point being that Caleb Dawson doesn't back down from a challenge."

Nick whistled. "Sounds high and mighty. Remember to send me an invitation to your wedding. I expect a fantastic cash prize for being the middle man."

This time, I flipped Nick off to the sound of his laughter. We routinely took turns taking jabs at each other. Chirping and trash talking was a locker room thing, but Nick and I took it a step above in our conversations. It was nice for keeping us off guard and in a light hearted mood.

Nick returned to the topic at hand. "Well, you have a month to prepare. I'll have more information about the details in a week or two, but the Christmas party will be over the break as usual. Figure out how you're going to get Jennifer to say yes. Knowing you, it shouldn't be difficult, but knowing Jennifer, this could be interesting."

A challenge. Right up my alley. I liked it better when things didn't come easily. It was a spotlight, a chance to showcase my abilities. Even though each scenario was different, I was a natural scorer and the results were going to be the same. A goal for Caleb Dawson.