Page 34 of Rise Above

“I figured if he’s reaching out to you about it. For

now, I just want to be friends.” I slowly dragged my fries through some ketchup. “I can’t do a romantic relationship right now… or in general, I think.”

“Yeah, I think we can all agree to that.” Zeke

laughed. He and Davis had seen me at my worst in my post-Melody world. Frankly, I was still dealing with the aftermath of our relationship. Who knew how long I’d be dealing with it? Melody had ripped my fucking heart out and skated across it.

My skates glided easily across the ice as I started

my warm-up with the team. This was my element—on the ice for a game. The sounds of the crowd, whether good or bad, always fueled my own energy. It was truly an experience unlike any other to be able to entertain fans. Hockey was a love of mine, and it was a passion I was fortunate enough to turn into a living. I flicked my wrist quickly aiming for the goal. Zeke shot his left arm out, missing my shot by millimeters. A smirk graced my lips. Sometimes, I just got lucky.

The Orbs weren’t our biggest rival, but their games

were always intense. It usually meant fast and hard and me getting in at least one fight. A lot of people didn’t agree

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with my style of play, regarding it as a part of early hockey days. Some people thought enforcers were outdated; I disagreed. I was pretty protective of my team. If someone came after my teammates, I’d gladly get in the fight.

Hockey did involve fights and as long as there was

a justified reason for it, I would take the punches and hits. I could also give better than I got. Like I said, though, not everyone agreed with it. I was on thin ice when it came to penalties. Any more mistakes and they were likely to take me off the ad team, so I had to be careful. That didn’t mean I wasn’t opposed to the fights I got into. If they needed to be done, they would get done. Fights were just a part of the game, and sometimes they had to be.

The buzzer sounded, letting us know that warm-up

was over. Now the best part of my day was about to start. I was living my dream every day, and I was so thankful. Hopping off the ice, I made my way into the opposing team locker room. We had enough time to put our pads on and get back on the ice for the national anthem. Quickly, the team threw their gear and helmets on. The energy in the locker room was at an all-time high. Some game days were just like that.

Coach walked in and adjusted his tie. “Alright boys,

the season is going strong. Let’s keep that alive and go kick some Orb ass!”

A loud whoop echoed in the room as the team

headed back on the ice. I liked to be the last out of the locker room. It was like a little ritual for me, to place a tap on the door jamb as I left. For some reason, it helped calm me. Time to clear my mind and hit the ice.

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Boos, jeers, and cheers mingled as we stepped onto

the ice. The national anthem began and so did my other ritual: taking in the first line. This was one of my opportunities to look at the other players and find their weaknesses. Everyone had tells: a side they leaned on, the way they gripped their sticks, or even where their eyes wandered. It helped me learn which guys were easy to rile up and who would need a pest placed on them. My little ritual also allowed me time to find which players were most likely to fight. Each team had a few, and I’d found the Orbs’. He was big and probably intimidating to normal people. I wasn’t normal though. Very little intimidated me.

The anthem finished, and we all skated to our spots

on the rink. My eyes zeroed in on the ref, making sure I’d catch where the puck was going to end up. The buzzer sounded and the puck dropped where my center quickly passed it to me. I took a run up the side, hooking my stick behind me and sending the puck back to my center. He reeled back and hit a slapshot, just narrowly missing the goal.

Sweat dripped into my eyes as the third period

began. We were up by one, but the Orbs were still in the fight. Their lines were fast and aggressive. Some of them

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were pushing us harder than we expected. Thankfully, Zeke was on fire. Only one lucky shot had slipped by him, and it was on me. A late body check had put me in the penalty box for two minutes. Their goal was my fault.