Page 3 of Rush

That’s been happening a lot with Jameson. Usually when he winks at me, or when he stands up for me during hockey games, or anytime he smiles at me. Not the cocky grin he usually wears, but the deliberate, slow rise of his lips that makes his eyes soften. I’ve never seen him look at anyone else with that smile. It feels secretive, special, and mine. My heart races in my chest as he starts walking down the hallway with me right by his side. His attention never wavers the entire time.

At the locker rooms, we head in different directions. I need the time spent changing into my gym clothes to calm down the butterflies swirling in my stomach. My mind is frozen, remembering the self-assured way Jameson carried himself in the hallway as he headed toward me with purpose. He thought his surprise made my day; little did he know he just made my entire middle school experience.

Jameson, age 13

The tight grip on my chest eases the rest of the day the more I get to see Sam. I didn’t mean to piss her off with my secret. I sort of thought once she saw me, she’d jump into my arms and hug me like she did at our end-of-the-year tournament when we won first place. I replay that scene in my head multiple times a day, until my chest flares with heat and my body responds. I had been expecting her to hit my shoulder with her gloves; instead, her arms wrapped around my neck and all I could smell was the sweet scent of her shampoo in her hair underneath the faint layer of sweat that clung to her. It was a difficult game, and we both played hard. I had even taken a penalty for getting back at a kid on the other team who had shoved her into the boards. No one goes after my teammates without retaliation from me. Especially when it comes to my girl. Still, her celebration hug lives rent-free in my head. That sealed the deal for me, knowing I needed to do everything I could to make sure we were at the same middle school this year.

Gym passes quickly, and it's easily the best part of my day, now that I get to see Sam. I finish getting changed before her and decide to wait outside the doors by the lockers. We have the same class again after this, and I want to walk with her. Braysen stops walking and waits next to me.

“That guy over there was saying stuff about Sam in the locker room,” he says under his breath.

My gaze follows his to a pretty-looking boy I’ve never seen before and don’t know. The first thing I notice is he’s not as tall as me; his hair is blond and spikey where mine is dark and long, and he looks like he barely even worked hard in gym class, since his spikey hair is still gelled to perfection. My lip curls, watching his eyes as they keep flickering to the girls’ locker room door.

“What did he say?”

“She’s pretty, and he wants to ask her to be his girlfriend.” Braysen shrugs, but his eyes narrow on the guy too. Sam is one of ours, our best friend. But she’s more mine and I like that I’m the closest to her.

My feet start moving, bringing me toward the poor kid who thinks my best friend is pretty. There’s no way he will ask her to be his girlfriend, not on my watch. “Hey.” I nod at him. He stands straighter, his eyes flashing to mine in recognition. Probably remembering how close Sam stayed to me the entire gym class. “Stay away from Sam, alright.”

The kid's face turns red with embarrassment, and his group of friends starts laughing. He stares at me mortified and angry. “What’s it to you, jerkface?”

My shoulders tense, and my gaze narrows on him. “She’s my best friend, asshole. And I’m going to marry her someday.”

sam, age 15

. . .

This is a bad idea. My eyes run down the row of boys from the high school hockey team who were brave enough to meet me and Braysen here today. The fact that I kept it a secret from Jameson proves how bad of an idea it is, and if he finds out, we’ll all suffer the consequences. A very bad idea.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” I turn to Braysen one last time, hesitation written all over my face.

“This is the only way to do it. Once it's done, you’ll know what to expect and it won’t hurt as much.” He shrugs his shoulders. Even as he says the words, I notice the slight flicker of doubt in his eyes.

I should back out now. Just cut my losses and wait for the season to start. My fears are probably baseless, but I want to be prepared. The jump from the U15 team to the junior varsity team this year is dramatic. Not just in play but in the roughness of the play. They say girls can’t check, but the girls' teams have no problem playing dirty and shoving each other into the boards. I’ve been worried about it since the summer, and now with tryouts and a brand-new season looming in the distance, I panicked. Unfortunately, I called Braysen for this one. His bright idea, though, might be the one that gets me in trouble. Not that I had any other choice. I told Jameson my worries about getting hit hard this year, and he told me no one would dare hurt me. Like he could really stop what happens in a game or put me in a protective bubble while he’s watching from the stands.

Pushing thoughts of my best friend from my mind, I glance between Braysen and Luca. Both of whom are watching me with matching expressions of excitement.

“This is bad.” I sigh before getting down and ready into my skating stance. “Okay, ready.”

I fly down the row between the guys and the boards, and each one of them takes the opportunity to shove me into the boards. The first hit takes my breath away, and, once again, I'm thankful we kept this hidden from Jameson. He hates when I’m even slightly grazed in a game. The second, third, and fourth hits make my teeth rattle, and I clamp down harder on my mouth guard. I make it through the line and take one last hit in the corner board before skating back over to Braysen.

“Well?” he asks, his eyes wavering over my face, looking for any signs of serious injury. I’m breathless, but my adrenaline is spiked. That was freaking amazing. I feel invincible.

“Again,” I tell him, nodding my head. “Tell your boys to bring it this time.”

Braysen laughs and shouts at the team to crank the muscle. Some of them are shaking their heads, but others are whooping it up. Only Luca’s eyes widen, and he glances at me with horror written on his face. Poor kid looks like I signed his death warrant.

Pushing off on my skates, I dodge and take every hit from the team over and over. On my last pass in the corner, Braysen checks me hard enough that the glass bows and shudders from the impact. My skates leave the ice, and I drop onto it, knocking the wind out of me for a second before I’m back up and racing to the finish line.

“Ow, I think that one may leave a mark.” I chuckle, and my hand finds my side, where it met the edge of the boards.

“Ow, huh?”

That voice is like liquid fire down my spine, my body instantly responding to his presence in the room. My heart thuds, and my stomach flips when my head snaps over my shoulder. The guys’ noisy chatter fades to silence. A stick drops on the ice, and no one moves. I glance at Braysen, who grimaces, and then to Luca, who’s glancing at anyone else but me right now. I can feel the hostility in the rink, the tension evident in everyone on the ice. Nothing compares to Jameson, though. His shoulders are tight; his hands clamped in fists at his sides. His jaw is locked so tightly that the muscle bunches as his teeth grind. Under his flop of hair, I can tell his eyes have darkened from chocolate brown to almost black. We’re in so much trouble.

“Not ow, ow. Just a little bruise probably.” I laugh, trying to ease the tension. I skate over to the box that he’s standing in and step in with him. Even on skates, Jameson towers over me. My hands remove my helmet before my head tilts back to meet his eyes. Look at me. I silently beg, and his stormy eyes snap to mine as if he heard me. “I’m okay, Kane.”

“Why are you even doing this in the first place?” His voice is low, edged with concern.