3. Bennett

Bennett

The moment I stepped onto the ice, the atmosphere in the arena hit me like a tidal wave. Fans roared with anticipation as we began our warm-up routines. It was the regular season opener, and as luck would have it, that night was the Grizzlies' home opener.

I tightened my grip on the "puck sniper" – yes, dammit, my stick has a nickname – even while my mind wandered back to our pre-season performance. We'd won three of four warm-up games, yet I felt like shit. I wanted to shake off the nagging feeling that I hadn"t given it my all, but it was hard to do so. Even though the pundits had been singing my praises, deep down, I believed I could do better. If I was all that good, I would have been busting my ass in the NAPH, rather than busting it in the PHL.

Xander skated up to me with a bright smile, his dimples and straight teeth on full display, but there was a hint of wariness in his blue eyes. "Ready for a good game?"

"We'll see about that." My tone was gruff, too gruff. I didn't mean to be such a grumpy fucker, especially toward him, the newest member of our team, and I really felt bad about how I'd been treating him. But I couldn't seem to stop myself.

His smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly shook off the sting of my words… and bad attitude, and skated away.

As much as I didn"t want to admit it, he was an essential part of the team. He excelled in both offense and defense, making him a force to be reckoned with. Despite the tension that existed between us, I knew he had what it took to make it big.

"Alright, boys, let"s get to work," Coach barked, snapping me back to reality, the reality of a game we had to win.

The team moved into position. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as the countdown began.

The first period was a blur, bodies and blades colliding in a frenzy of motion on the ice. We were all in, every sinew straining, each exhale a silent war cry. Yet our opponents mirrored our every move. The atmosphere was charged with an undercurrent of tension that set my senses on edge. My heart drummed a wild rhythm against my ribcage.

The whoops and whistles of the fans swelled and receded like an unpredictable sea storm. Their collective voices rose to thunderous peaks with every play we managed to pull off, only to plummet into disheartened murmurs with each chance that eluded our grasp.

"Pull it together, Bennett," I chastised myself quietly, wincing as another near miss sent jolts of frustration coursing through me.

Our performance was riddled with mistakes: passes failing to find their targets, shots veering wide off the mark. An epidemic of blunders had taken hold of us. Only Xander remained untouched by this plague of missteps. He moved across the ice with surgical precision and fluid grace.

Jester and Tank, our defensemen, struggled to keep up their guard while Maestro at the goal was besieged from all sides. I tried to keep up my end as right wing but it was like trying to catch smoke – elusive and frustratingly out of reach.

And then it happened – the other team scored against us, a sharp sting that cut through the chaos around us, just like the shrill note of the whistle the referee blew to signal the goal.

Xander"s performance stood out like a lighthouse in our tempestuous sea – but even his brilliance couldn"t stem the tide alone.

When we retreated to the locker room for the first intermission, my heart pounded. The game was far from over, and I knew we needed to strategize if we wanted to come out on top.

"Alright, guys, we need to tighten up our defense," Coach barked as he drew lines and circles on the whiteboard, outlining our new plan of attack. "Let"s make sure we"re covering Adam and Jackson because they're kicking our asses."

The second period saw a noticeable increase in intensity. Bodies collided harder, skates cut deeper, and tempers flared higher. And Xander moved with the grace of a predator, his steel-blue eyes locked onto his target. But we were still behind, one to nothing.

The second intermission brought a chorus of heavy breathing and muttered curses from the team. We were battered and bruised, but we were still in the fight.

"Remember, it"s not about individual glory," Coach reminded us. "It"s about the team. Now, let"s finish this."

And finish it we did. The last period was a grueling battle, both teams fighting tooth and nail for victory. In the throes of the third period, we were still trailing our opponents, a single goal carving the difference between us and them. The clock was our enemy, each tick echoing in my ears like a countdown to defeat. Three minutes left on that merciless timer and Coach made a call that he didn't make very often. Maestro, our goaltender, was pulled off the ice, and I watched him trudge off, his usual fortress-like presence replaced by Sam, our extra forward.

Risky? Hell yes. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Since Maestro was no longer guarding our net, every inch of it was vulnerable to attacks from the opposing team. But with Sam, who'd positioned himself near the other team's net to screen the goalie and capitalize on rebounds, an undercurrent of anticipation buzzed beneath my skin.

As Xander stepped up his game, I couldn"t tear my eyes away. He moved with a predator"s grace across the ice, his focus laser-sharp on our opponent's goal post. My heart raced in anticipation as he took the shot – and then, it happened. The puck whizzed past their defenders. I felt, rather than heard, a collective gasp sweep through the arena, my own breath catching in my throat. And then, impact. The puck hit the back of their net, a jolt of excitement running through me. The arena erupted into cheers, but I barely heard it above the pounding of my heart. I joined in as the scoreboard lit up with the game-tying goal.

But Xander wasn"t done yet.

He struck again – another bullet-like shot, the biscuit piercing through the other team's defenses before they could even recover from his first attack. Two goals within minutes – just like that! The roar from our side drowned out everything else as euphoria gripped us tightly.

Our risky play had paid off – thanks to Xander"s deadly precision, he had tipped the scales in favor of the Grizzlies. I stole a glance at him, noting the wide grin that seemed to reflect our collective elation.

"Good game, guys!" Coach shouted, high-fiving us as we filed off the ice.

I scanned the faces around me – flushed and shining with accomplishment – and acknowledged for perhaps the first time in a long while how much these guys mattered to me. We pulled it off, I thought, we really fuckingpulled it off.

My chest swelled with pride, but my mind kept drifting back to Xander"s performance. He'd been truly mesmerizing during the game. When I was his age, I didn't have half the talent and skill he had. If he continued like he was doing, the trajectory was clear for him – the NAPH.

"Bennett, Xander!" Eva Garcia called out as we made our way toward the locker room. She was a seasoned journalist. Dressed in slacks and a blouse with a matching blazer over it, she exuded confidence. A pair of stud earrings completed the ensemble. "Can I ask you a couple of questions?"

"Of course," I said. "Let me grab my stuff from the bench and I"ll meet you in a bit."

Xander murmured something in a similar vein, gesturing toward his skates.

"Absolutely, no rush. I"ll be right here whenever you"re ready."

Xander and I didn't waste any time getting back to the reporter.

"Congratulations on your win," she began, turning her attention to Xander. "You were a real standout tonight. How are you feeling after that win?"

Xander ran a hand through his tousled hair, a sheepish grin on his lips. "I feel great, honestly. The team really came together tonight."

"Amazing," Eva nodded, clearly impressed. She then turned to me, her gaze piercing into mine. "And what about you, Bennett? How do you feel after a close win?"

"Exhilarated," I admitted, my heart still racing from the adrenaline rush of the game. "It"s always a challenge when the competition is this fierce, but it makes the victory even more rewarding."

Eva"s eyes traveled between us. "Now, let"s talk about the dynamics between the two of you," she said, her tone gentle yet probing. "You both bring unique strengths to the team. How do you work together to complement one another on the ice?"

"We've got a... good rhythm going," I said, trying to keep it light. "Xander"s like a whirlwind on the left, stirring things up. Makes the defense work for it, I'll give him that."

"Xander, you"re the new sensation, breaking records and turning heads," Eva said. "How do you navigate the pressure that comes with being in the spotlight?"

His grin unwavering, Xander met her gaze head-on. "Pressure"s just another part of the game for me. I thrive on it. But at the end of the day, it"s all about the team"s success. I"m just here to do my part."

As Eva peppered him with questions, my attention was drawn to him. I found myself covertly watching him from beneath my lashes, an action that was out of character for me. My gaze traced the contours of his mouth as he spoke, the way his strong hands clasped the microphone with a sense of purpose when emphasizing a point, and even the subtle sheen of perspiration on his forehead following our triumph on the ice.

Why was I noticing these details about Xander? The question gnawed at me. I"d seen other players countless times, both in and out of their gear. Sure, they had heads, and limbs – four each to be precise – but beyond that? If you asked me about Tank"s eye color or whether Jester gestured when he spoke or even the exact shade of Sam's and Maestro"s hair, I would have been stumped unless I went out of my way to look.

Yet here I was, observing Xander with an intensity that baffled me. He wasn"t just another rookie; he was someone who had only been around for a few weeks and whose conversations with me were limited to grunts and growls mostly.

Despite this lack of interaction, I knew things about him that surprised me. His eyes were a unique medium gray tinged with blue undertones. His hair was a mix of sandy blond and light brown, with streaks of gold catching the light. And yes, he did gesture animatedly with his hands when he got excited.

I felt like a stranger in my own body – this wasn"t how Bennett acted. Could it be stress? Was the pressure to perform causing me to behave oddly? As much as I tried to rationalize it away, one thing remained clear: something about Xander had captured my attention in a way no one else ever had before.

Eva turned to me, her hazel eyes locking onto mine. "Bennett, you"ve had a taste of the NAPH on several occasions, only to find yourself back in the PHL. How do you approach these setbacks, especially with players like Xander making waves?"

I felt a twinge of frustration at her question, but I refused to let it show on my face. Instead, I focused on the feel of my hockey stick in my grip, the rough texture grounding me as I searched for the right words.

"Every player faces challenges," I replied, concealing my unease with a smile. "I"ve had my share. But setbacks only fuel my determination." I glanced at Xander, who stood tall beside me, his blue-gray eyes glittering with… with concern? Eva"s line of questioning had touched a nerve, perhaps on my behalf. I pressed on with my rehearsed response, echoing my teammate"s sentiment, "And as Xander said, pressure is part of the game. It pushes us to be better."

"Your history together goes beyond the current team," Eva continued. "Both of you have a connection to a legendary player, Angus Steele."

I looked at Xander, my eyebrows rising slightly. I hadn"t known this.

"How has his influence shaped your careers?" Eva asked.

Xander"s eyes flickered with admiration as he spoke. "Angus Steele is a hockey legend. I grew up idolizing him. His skill, his tenacity – they're what inspired me to pursue this path."

A surge of discomfort coursed through me. My jaw tightened as I struggled to maintain my composure. "Seeing him succeed reminds me of what"s possible if you stay dedicated and focused."

"Bennett, you and Angus Steele started your careers together. How does it feel to see your former teammate"s success in the NAPH while you navigate a different path in the PHL?"

Her question cut like a knife, slicing through the facade of composure I tried so hard to maintain. It took all of my willpower to resist the urge to glance at Xander. Why, I wondered, as frustration simmered beneath my skin. It"s not like I could be rescued from this line of questioning. The comparison stung, dredging up the undeniable parallels between Angus"s meteoric rise and my own tumultuous journey through the ranks of PHL hockey. But the truth was, I had never been one to shrink from a challenge – and the relentless determination that had driven me to this point would continue to push me forward, no matter what obstacles stood in my way.

"Angus"s success is well-deserved," I replied, smiling to mask my discomfort. "We started together, but I"ve faced my own journey and so has he. It"s a reminder that everyone"s path is unique. I"m here to contribute to the Grizzlies in my own way."

Feeling Xander"s taller stature beside me, I sensed he was using those extra three inches to shield me from Eva"s relentless scrutiny. But then again, I couldn"t shake the nagging suspicion that I was reading too much into it. We were just teammates, not friends, plain and simple.

"Alright, gentlemen, one last question for both of you," Eva said, her eyes dancing with mischief. "What are your goals for this season, individually and as part of the team?"

"Individually, I aim to continue playing the best that I can," Xander answered first. "But my primary goal is to help the team reach new heights. We"re here to win."

I nodded in agreement, swallowing hard as I searched for the right words. "My goal is to contribute in any way I can. Team success is the ultimate goal, and I"ll do what it takes to achieve that."

"Thank you, Bennett and Xander, for your candid responses." Eva's smile didn't falter. It was one of the things I'd admired about her over the years: her demeanor was always warm and friendly, even when she asked the tough questions you wished to avoid. "I think I speak for everyone when I say we"re excited to see what the season will bring."

Then she disappeared into the throng of reporters and cameras. The moment she was gone, I turned to Xander.

"Good game," I muttered, extending my hand in a show of sportsmanship.

"Likewise," he replied, his voice low and husky as he clasped my hand in his own.

A strange warmth bloomed in my chest, catching me off guard. I frowned, puzzled by the unexpected reaction. Did Xander feel it too? I glanced at him, searching for... what? Answers? Understanding? I wasn"t sure what I was looking for.

It was only a handshake, a fleeting moment of connection, but it left me feeling strangely exposed.