Page 2 of Rush

The whistle blows, and we race through the drill. She follows steadily behind me around the circle. Our distance gets tighter when we get to the cones. I pass her the puck and she passes it back before our final stretch. One of the coaches is yelling at us to use our speed. My eyes flick to the side and I can see her gaze is on the red line where the finish is. She’s concentrating so hard that her teeth are biting into the edge of her mouth guard. My lips twitch, and I almost feel bad that I’m beating her. At the very last second, my legs ease up, and we glide over the line, my skates just barely an inch in front of hers. She’s grinning at how close she thinks we were. My stomach fills with a weird, fluttering feeling, and I stop dead in my tracks.

She leans against the boards. “That was so close. I can’t believe you beat me.”

My head tilts confused. Then I realize she thought she actually would beat me. Like she’s used to being the fastest skater on the ice. Who is this girl?

“Are you new this year?”

She smiles, all teeth, and her eyes light up, and I feel a dull redness hit my cheeks. “My family just moved here.”

“What’s your name?” I ask low enough that my friends around me don’t hear me asking, even though they were just laughing with her before I got here. For some reason, it made me mad, but now that I’ve seen her skate, she isn’t that bad.

“Sam,” she says, her blue eyes glancing at my face before she turns to watch the rest of the players finish up the drill. “What’s your name?”

Her voice makes my throat feel tight. “Jameson.” She nods and there’s another small smile on her lips.

Before I know it, she’s zooming through another drill and is then moved off into another group with all the other girl players. I try to keep my attention on the coach and what he’s saying. I even try really hard to pay attention to the bets and the jokes my friends are talking about, but I keep looking for Sam. I keep catching sight of her long, blonde braid swishing against her jersey. At the end of practice, I start to skate over to the new girl, wanting to talk to her one more time. At the boards, she grabs her water bottle. My mouth opens when Braysen starts talking to her. Fire spreads through my chest and up my throat. I’ve never had a problem with my best friend before, but this, this is a problem. I want to talk to her. I want her blue eyes on me. Any talk about hockey can be with me. I stop right next to Braysen, and my shoulder dips into his, pushing him back. He waffles on his skates and shoots me a glare.

“What the heck, bro?”

I shrug, my grin spreading as I turn to look at the new girl and see her brow raised. “Sam’s my new best friend, Bray. Back up.”

sam, 12 years old…

. . .

This is going to be the worst day ever. I already knew it would be when I woke up before my alarm clock, and then sat patiently while Allie decided to eat my favorite Fruity Pebble doughnut for breakfast. I had to watch while she carefully chewed the crunchy bits then threw away half of it when she remembered she didn’t like that flavor. My mom reminds me over and over that she’s only four and a half, almost five, and she doesn’t know any better. I call BS, but wouldn’t dare say that to my mom. She’s already flushed and frantic, trying to get to her shift on time and having to drop Allie off for daycare. Thank goodness she’ll be in kindergarten next year, and I can get her on the bus for Mom. I’ll get off at the middle school before they make the trek to the elementary school, but at least I’ll be with Allie until then.

Middle school. The main reason I am not looking forward to this day. At least I ended up in some of the same classes as my two girl best friends, Riley and Emma, but knowing that I was going to, once again, be at a different school than Jameson is what bothered me the most. Our public school system is huge. There’s three elementary schools and two middle schools. The high school is going to feel like being dropped into a small city by the time we all converge there in a few years.

I usually wouldn’t be that heartbroken about not being in classes with Jameson, but this year I’ll also be moving to an all-girls’ team for the first time. We finally reached the age where girls are expected to play on the U12 teams and not play on the boys’ level. I cried after my last season game with Jameson, Braysen and Luca. But mostly, my heart was aching about losing my best friend. Jameson makes my game better. He pushes me to be a faster, sharper skater, and now I feel like I am losing him everywhere. Not only would I no longer see him on the ice, but I won’t see him every day at school. I’m terrified he’ll forget about me. I’m a nervous wreck thinking he’ll make friends with someone else, and I’ll no longer be his best friend. My mom held me when I cried at the end of the season and promised that I could still hang out with Jameson once in a while; yet, we barely saw each other over the summer, except for the two weeks at hockey camp. I’m devastated, and nothing has brought me out of my funk since then. The only silver lining is that I was able to get his hockey number for my own jersey this winter. We’ll both be number 9.

“Sam!” Riley calls my name, and my head snaps up from watching the sidewalk. She’s excitedly waving her arms near the front door. I wave back when I spot her and quickly walk over there. Emma pops out around her and sweeps us all up into a group hug.

“I love your backpack,” Emma gushes about my tie-dye blue and purple bag. I flash her a smile, and we loop arms, heading into the school. As we head down the hallway to our bank of lockers, we chat about the last few days of our summer breaks and I listen while they talk about how excited they are to start middle school.

Once all my things are in my locker, I make my way down a separate hall, avoiding the mass of student bodies, until I find my first class. Sixth grade barely prepared us for switching classes every hour like we’ll be expected to do in seventh grade; I’m just happy that Emma volunteered to get my schedule laminated for me when her mom did hers as well. This way I can keep track of it easier and even if it gets spilled on it won't be ruined. Emma’s mom is always on things like that, just like being the snack parent for our hockey game days.

I survive two classes before making it back to my locker. I’m quickly shoving my folders into my locker and grabbing the snack at the bottom of my bag when I hear my name shouted in the hallway.

“Sam!”

My head snaps up, and a blush creeps up my cheeks. No way. My heart jumps in my throat and I turn, glancing down the hallway, seeing Jameson, full of confidence, walking down the hallway like he owns the place. He’s easily taller than most of the other seventh graders here. His deep brown eyes glint with mischief while he pushes his long, dark hair off his face. I watch as he gains attention from everyone he passes; yet, his gaze never leaves me. His lips pull into a smirk, while my fingers are frozen around my granola bar. I’m sure my mouth is hanging open, and I quickly slam my lips together once he’s in front of me. His chest hits my hands that are holding my snack, and he leans down until we’re eye level.

“Surprised to see me, Sammy?”

He only calls me that when he’s trying to rile me up. It started as a joke when his friends were teasing us, singing Jamie and Sammy sitting in a tree. Jameson took one look at my face turning red with embarrassment, and they never tried it again.

Shaking the memory away, my fist connects with his shoulder, and he winces, pulling back slightly. “What the heck, Kane?”

“Kane, huh? You must not like my surprise.” He chuckles, but the noise sounds wary, some of his confidence slipping.

“Not like it? I cried my eyes out last night, Jameson. I’ve been thinking I was never going to see you this year.” My voice cracks a little, and I startle him and myself. Teenage hormones are no joke and the last thing I want to do is cry right now.

His fingers brush the lone tear off my cheek before anyone notices, and his smile slides easily back into place. “Glad you were going to miss me, Sam. I had to promise my dad extra hours at the garage this weekend cleaning just for him to make the call so I could transfer here. I was hoping to surprise you.” He shrugs his shoulders, looking almost sheepish. Stupid idiot.

“Good surprise, Kane,” I rush to reassure him, while my heart swells in my chest. “What’s your next class?”

“Gym, with you.” He winks, and my stomach flips.