Kris

Every time we played a practice game, I realized how lucky I was to have Atlas and Ethan on my team. Because playing against them was fucking scary as a defenseman.

Coach had put the starting offense and defense players in opposing teams, pairing us with the team's rookies for this one. We did this quite often to strengthen our individual skills while also working on our compatibility with other teammates at the same time.

It was effective and also fun. But only until we weren't getting absolutely crushed by our own teammates.

My gaze locked with Atlas as he dashed past Holden into our defense zone, a wide grin on his face. He knew very well that Holden was intimidated by him and fully used it to his advantage. Cursing under my breath, I skated after him to intercept, but he had already sent the puck flying toward the goal.

Thankfully, Dylan was at the top of his game today. He swatted the puck away like it was some pesky bug.

Flashing him a grateful smile, I took control of the puck and turned around, skating toward the red line at full speed. Atlas and Ethan were immediately behind me, intent on stealing the puck away. As I dodged them, I noticed August, my team's right winger, waiting at the blue line. I angled my stick and with a flick of the wrist passed the puck to him.

He got hold of the puck and with no defensemen in position to intercept him, he raced toward the goal. One powerful slapshot and the buzzer went off, announcing our goal in the last few seconds of the game.

We still lost. But at least it wasn't a complete shutout.

I pulled my gloves and helmet off, running my fingers through my sweat damp hair as I watched Atlas' team celebrate their victory. Losing the game stung a little less only because now I knew our offense was fantastic. We were definitely making it to the nationals this season. My teammates, however, didn't seem to share the same sentiments as they huddled around me with long faces.

"I fucked up. I shouldn't have missed that first shot," Liam, our freshmen left winger, said. "Bennett isn't even as good at blocking as Dylan."

"C'mon now. He's improving. And don't be too hard on yourself. Everyone misses shots," I said, knocking on his helmet. "You'll make it next time."

Holden shifted from foot to foot beside him. "I... I shouldn't have let Atlas pass by me that easily. I'm sorry."

"I was great today," Dylan piped in as he came to stand beside me. "And I feel even better for blocking Captain's signature shot."

He clapped Holden on his shoulder before going to gloat about it to Atlas. A smile formed on my lips when I noticed Atlas holding Dylan in head lock. There wasn't a day when those two weren't bickering like kids.

Coach blew his whistle and everyone gathered around the bench. He gave us a few pointers, especially to Ethan and Holden who had recently changed positions. They were two of the most versatile players so I didn't think we'd have any issues.

"That's it for today," Coach said, ending his speech. I was about to head toward the locker room along with everyone else when Coach called my name, stopping me. "Come to my office after you are done showering. We need to talk."

I blinked in confusion as he walked away without saying anything further. A summon to have a talk with Coach in his office was never a good sign. Coach strongly believed in praising in front of everyone, and listing flaws in private. So a talk usually meant that you had fucked up in some way and now he was going to recount it all in a colorful vocabulary.

"What did you do?" Ethan asked as we stepped inside the locker room.

"I don't know," I said, scratching my forehead. "I don't think I have done anything that would warrant an aggressive Ted talk with Coach."

My performance had been great in the last few games. Admittedly, I had made some mistakes, but none of them were major enough to cause this. Besides, Coach didn't really wait to point out mistakes made during a game. This had to do with something else entirely. And that worried me more.

The last time I had been on the receiving end of Coach's lecture was after the Bethany debacle. My performance had tanked so bad that I was benched for nearly half of the games that season.

I'd hated being in that spot. Hated disappointing Coach and my teammates. Since then, I had tried my best to never be in that position again. And had succeeded. There was literally no reason for Coach to be mad at me.

My sudden summon to the Coach's office seemed to put a damper on the team's collective mood as everyone tried to remember what they had done in the past few days and if they would be sitting in the hot seat next.

By the time I was standing outside Coach's office, I was sweating buckets as if I was just about to receive a death sentence. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember doing anything that could have angered Coach.

Taking a deep breath, I clenched and unclenched my fists a few times before finally gathering the courage to knock on the door. A faint 'come in' floated from behind the door and I pushed it open, stepping inside.

Coach was sitting at his table, rearranging some papers. He met my gaze and gestured toward the chair across from him. "Have a seat. And close the door behind you."

I nodded and did as I was told to. Being back in his office brought forth some painful memories. It was a reminder of what I had become, what all I had risked, and everything I could have potentially lost just because I couldn't get a grip on myself after my breakup.

"How's everything going?" Coach asked, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Studies going well?"

"Umm... Yes?" I said, feeling a little stumped by the question. After nearly sending me into a nervous frenzy, this was what he wanted to talk about?

He raised a brow at me when I didn't supply more information and I knew he was being serious. He did, in fact, wanted to discuss my academics. But I guess it was still a lot a better than him telling me that I was kicked off the team or something. So, I took this as a win and relaxed in my seat, feeling a little more confident now.

"Everything's fine. My grades are considerably good in most classes except for a few. I'm working on improving those too though," I said.

"That's good," he said, giving a curt nod as he steepled his fingers on top of his desk. "I'm assuming one of the classes you're struggling in is Psychology?"

Okay, this meeting was turning out to be full of surprises. I didn't know he was keeping a track of my grades.

Coach offered me a small smile. "I met Prof. Moore while I was getting my morning coffee. He said you were... having some issues with his course."

There was no way Prof. Moore had said only that and in those words. That man hated my guts. I wouldn't put it past him to bring up a thirty slide presentation just so he could prove how undeserving I was of anything good in this life.

"Those weren't his exact words, were they?" I asked and my question was met with silence, proving me right. I heaved a sigh. "Prof. Moore hates me."

"He doesn't hate you. He's just..."

"Holding a grudge against me for dropping out of his class first time around?"

"He's just concerned that you are not giving your all in his class," Coach finished. "You are not showing up to his class as you are expected to and when you do show up, you are late."

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "I was getting checked at the clinic for signs of concussion the day I had a minor accident during practice. You know that. And then we had an away game. I haven't missed a single class after that."

"Yes, I told him about that. But he had one more concern."

"What else?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

Prof. Moore could have directly talked to me about this, but instead, he complained to my coach. Like he didn't think I was capable of correcting my mistakes and needed an intervention from an authority figure. It wasn't even Coach's job to oversee anything else other than my performance on the ice.

"He mentioned some group project you have to do and someone on the team refused to work with you. Said that you weren't cooperative or accommodating. What's that all about?" Coach asked.

Oh, so that's what it was really about.

Shane had gone to Prof. Moore, made up some lies to make his decision of not working on the project seem valid, and now Prof. Moore had more ammunition to make my life hell. Shane already knew how prejudiced Prof. Moore was about me and used exactly that to turn him completely against me.

I had underestimated Shane. Never had I ever imagined him stooping that low. But I was wrong. I should have trusted what Ashley had told me about him. He was a fucking asshole.

"I wasn't cooperative? Me?" I scowled. "I have been told I'm a great team player. Countless times. You've said so yourself."

Coach heaved a sigh. "I know that. And that's why I wanted to talk to you about it. Did something happen between you and your group members? Know who and why they are refusing to work with you?"

I knew who and I knew why but considering it involved Ashley, I didn't think it was wise to tell Coach. He would immediately think this was similar to what had happened with Bethany and go on high alert. The last thing I needed was to have Coach hovering over me while psychoanalyzing me.

"I don't know," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

Coach was silent for a long stretch of time as he stared at the wall of photo frames behind me. He had been coaching the Wellsfield Eagles for nearly seven years now and every photo on that wall was a testament of how good he was at his job. The Eagles had gone to the frozen four five times and won the nationals twice in his tenure. Some of the players he had coached were big names in the league today.

It was a big deal to have his confidence in my abilities. I had almost lost it once and I didn't intend to lose it again because of some pompous jerk who had nothing better to do with his life.

"Coach, I'm—"

"Solve it," Coach said, cutting me off. "Whatever this issue is with your project partner, resolve it. I know Prof. Moore isn't a fan of athletes and he's wrong to make assumptions about everyone who plays any kind of sport, but you could either keep fighting him or you could do your job and get out."

He raised his hands in a placating motion. "I completely trust you. If I'd heard this about anyone else, I might have at least given it a thought. But I know you. I know you aren't like that. You're one the best guys on the team and a great team player."

A wisp of a smile formed on my lips on hearing those words from Coach. It felt nice to know he had faith in me.

"It's just a matter of one semester. One semester that'll be ending in the next two months," he said and then looked at the door as if to make sure it was closed before leaning forward to whisper. "I'm saying this off the record and if you tell anyone, I'll refuse so don't even think about it. Prof. Moore can be as ass sometimes."

The snort that left me sounded inhuman. "Sometimes is a stretch. More like all the time."

"Well, I still have to maintain some decorum," he said. "Anyway, go talk to this reluctant group member, whoever that is and try to come up with a compromise. Do exactly what you would do if you were having troubles with a teammate."

Easier said than done. After what happened at Joana's, I wasn't sure Shane would agree to compromise.

"I'm assuming you need this credit to graduate?" he asked. When I looked at him with wide eyes, his lips twitched with a hint of a smile. "I know what students say about attending his lectures, kid. I know everything."

I cleared my throat, feeling my face warm with embarrassment. "I may or may not have made a blunder while selecting the electives."

Coach waved me off. "Been there, done that. What's important is how you deal with the problem now. I don't need to tell you how important it is for you to graduate on time, I'm sure you already know that."

I nodded. "I do."

"The pro team won't be waiting for you forever and I don't want to see you lose anything after working your ass off both on and off ice," he said, his tone serious. "Not everyone has the leverage you have. So make good use of it."

I didn't need to ask what he meant by that. Right now, Atlas and I were the only ones who had professional advisers helping us navigate our hockey career. Good advisers with a lot of connections. As soon as we graduate, they would become our agents and help with contracts as well. Not everyone got that kind of a head start.

And I was even more lucky to have a pro team show interest in me right off the bat. My adviser told me that it was almost a done deal and the team would most probably sign a contract with me after graduation. It wasn't set in stone only because I was still a student athlete and couldn't sign contracts with any team without forfeiting college hockey.

If I couldn't graduate on time, I would have to select between joining the team or staying back another semester to finish my degree. I didn't want to give up on either. There was no way I was going to pass up on an opportunity to go pro when so many others couldn't even if they wanted to.

And because a career in hockey, like any sport, was so unpredictable, I needed my degree as a backup plan. Apart from that, it would absolutely suck to see all the work I had put in for the past three years go down the drain.

I had to fix this situation. At all costs.

"I understand. I'll find a way to work things out," I said, standing up to leave.

Coach smiled and gave me an approving nod. "Good."

As I was walking away from Coach's office, I pulled out my phone and shot Holden a text, asking him if he knew where I could find Shane. It was time we had a chat.

***

Engineering student. Great!

Now Shane's personality made more sense to me. Most, if not all, engineering majors were arrogant assholes who thought everyone was lesser than them.

As I waited outside the sciences building for Shane to appear, I tried to think of the best way to broach the subject and get Shane to agree to work with me. This project might not mean anything to him, but my graduation depended on it. I also needed to think of a way to not lose my temper and explode on him for the shit he pulled.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to think everything through. Holden and Shane were already walking in my direction. And the moment Shane noticed me, the smile was wiped off his face. His dark eyes narrowed on me and his face hardened.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, scowling when I walked up to him.

I kept my face impassive and my tone even. "We need to talk," I said and then glanced at Holden. "Preferably in private."

"I'll go wait by your car," Holden said. "Try to keep this civil, guys."

I watched him with furrowed brows as he walked away. What did he think this was about?

"Whatever you have to say, say it fast. I have somewhere to be," Shane prompted, bringing my attention back to him.

Shane was the same height as Ashley, or maybe an inch shorter than her. I was easily towering over him. So while he tried to look intimidating with his stance, it didn't do much to scare me.

I crossed my arms and stared down at him, making sure he knew I was pissed even if I didn't say it out loud. "I heard some interesting things today about what you told Prof. Moore. You have anything to say for yourself?"

Shane scowled harder. "I'm not working with you and Ashley on that stupid project. So you can fuck off."

He brushed past me, deliberately bumping my shoulder with his like it was going to hurt me. I rolled my eyes, but still followed after him. By now I knew, having a decent conversation with him wasn't possible. I had to use some other tactics.

"I thought you had moved on from Ashley. Maybe I was wrong," I said, causing him to stop in his tracks. My lips twitched in amusement, but I suppressed my smile just as he turned to face me.

"What?" he asked, incredulous.

I shrugged. "I think you still have feelings for her. Isn't that the reason why you don't want to do the project?"

He scoffed. "You think too highly of her. I'm glad we broke up. The only misfortune I have is that I still can't get her to leave me alone."

I hummed, tilting my head to the side. "That's not how it looks though. Ashley has no interest in you. I mean, let's be real, she doesn't have a reason to spare you a second glance. Not anymore."

Shane's jaw ticked and I knew I was getting under his skin. A part of me felt guilty for dragging Ashley into this, but I couldn't think of any other way to get a rise out of Shane. I just needed to push his buttons right and he'd willingly come to work with us.

"We are secure in our relationship. She has no reason to refuse working with you because you really don't matter to her. But you on the other hand..." I trailed off and plastered a condescending smile on my face.

"Anyway, I just wanted to see if that was your final decision," I said, taking half a step back. "Oh, and I would suggest you drop Psychology 101. Moore is going to fail you for not doing the project so don't waste your time attending the lectures. Thought I would tell you that since I have already been there once."

As I began walking, I counted down the seconds until Shane called for me. I knew he would. Guys like him could never let anyone have the final word. They also hated having someone else talk down to them. I got a feeling that Ashley was still a sore spot for Shane and if I used my words right, I could make him do exactly what I wanted.

"You think she won't turn on you? That she wouldn't leave you for someone else?" Shane asked.

A grin spread across my lips at his words. He resisted the bait for all of five seconds. Time to pull him in further.

Composing my expressions, I turned back around to face him and shrugged. "I know she won't."

"You don't know her. Keep living in that fantasy, and she'll be in the arms of the next guy who gives her an ounce of attention," he said, his words laced with so much hatred that it was concerning. "In fact, I can guarantee she'll even try to get back with me if I went after her."

I snorted, shaking my head at him. "That's never going to happen. Bye Shane."

I was about to walk away again when he said what I'd wanted to hear. "Fine. I'll do that stupid project with you. And show you Ashley's true colors."

"I look forward to it," I teased. "Meet us tomorrow at the library. 10:00 am."

My chest was heavy with guilt when I finally walked away from Shane.

Ashley had wanted nothing to do with him, and I may have just provoked him to pursue her.