3. Brayden

Chapter three

Brayden

" Y o." Kal slumps himself down next to me, already dressed in his gear. Me? I'm behind, as usual. Trayton follows behind him, ruffling my hair and sitting on the other side of me. "Quake," Tray mumbles around a mouth fall of food. He's the only guy I know that can eat at any time in the day, whether it's before practice or right before a game and never feels ill.

"Sup," I say to both of my closest friends as I lean down and tie my laces up on my skates.

"I bumped into Coach walking toward the classroom. I tried talking to him, hoping you would get out of class before he went in there, but he brushed me off and told me he was in a rush. Sorry, man." Kal is always attempting to save me. That's his nature. He's the brother I wish I had—he always has my back and does everything he can to stop me from getting in shit when it comes to hockey. He knows how much this means to me, and it's all I have. So why do I keep jeopardizing it? Why do I keep fucking up? I sit up, rubbing my hands down my face.

"Thanks, man. Don't worry about it. I didn't get in trouble, anyway." I slap him on the back before standing up.

Kal stands up next to me. "What?" His brows furrow in confusion as his eyes skate between mine.

"The new teacher didn't tell on me." I frown at my own words, staring down at the floor. "He lied and said I waited behind to ask him a question about the syllabus." Voicing it aloud causes me more confusion. I thought little about it when I left, my head everywhere except where it should be, but now, why did he even lie for me? Maybe he's new and trying to get on the students' good side. I don't have a good side, so I don't know what he expects from me, but he will be sorely disappointed.

"He seems cool then," Kal says, before smacking each knee pad with his stick before stalking off to the rink. Smacking my knee pads is something he has always done before a game, but also practice. Everyone has the thing they do before a game. It's a superstitious thing. It's well known in hockey, but Kal even feels the need to do it before practice. It can't be anyone but me, if I'm not here, Kal instantly thinks he won't be able to play properly. I'm sure it's his way of making sure I always show up, even on the bad days.

"Anders!" Kal bellows as I jump on the ice, skating toward the team standing in the middle of the rink, listening to their captain. Yep, Kal is the captain, and a fucking good one at that. No one deserves this position more than Kal. He worked his ass for it.

But I know it takes his toll on him, especially being my best friend. He wants to do the best friend duties but also has an image to uphold. No matter how many times I tell him to stop getting me out of shit, he still does, but sometimes he does need to draw the line in front of our teammates and coach. Take today, for example. I'm late.

"You're putting away all the equipment after practice," he mumbles. I salute him because I know he hates it.

"Yes, Cap." His jaw tightens, and he sighs loudly.

"Shut the fuck up and listen." A small smirk appears as his eyes move from mine and land on the rest of the team.

"We have a tough fucking game on Saturday, and I need you to be on your fucking A-plus game." Kal glances over his shoulder to Coach, who is writing something down on the players benches, and then looks back at us.

"Between us, I heard there are scouts coming from the AHL and not just AHL, but the NHL as well." Kal's eyes immediately lock onto mine as murmurs and gasps surround me, and my eyes seem ready to pop out of my head.

Why didn't he tell me this before? He knows how much this means to me. He knows how much I need this, and this is my only way out of this fucking shit life I have. Kal's eyes slightly wince, and I see the guilt written all over his face. I don't blame him. I know he held it back for a reason, but this means I desperately need to focus now. Hockey is the way out. Hockey is the answer to escaping a life I'm sick of living. It's the answer to stop all this pain.

Kal gathers everyone in a huddle on the ice. "Yo, Hawks! Coach's meeting has overrun so you've got me until he's finished. Let's do some drills, but I'm putting a spin on it. I want six stations and get into groups at each station. Station one." Kal points to one corner of the ice rink. "I want lateral hops side to side, Station two, I want you on the blue line, I want you working on your balance. Station three: crunches; Station four: hockey net dips; Station five: shuttle sprints; and Station six: close grip push-ups. When each player has completed the sets, I want you to move to the next station. Set yourself a set amount and don't be a pussy. Remember what you're doing this for." Kal pauses, his eyes flicking to each of us. "Who are we?" he shouts.

"Devil Hawks!" We all shout in unison. Each one slaps the other on the back before easily skating to their stations.

Dropping myself into my cubby, I let my head flop back and smack against my locker. Taking a few deep inhales, completely worn from the strength and conditioning sets Kal ran us through today. A fresh surge of excitement courses through my veins at the thought of scouts possibly being here on Saturday. My adrenaline spikes, flooding my body with a new sense of anticipation. Hope.

Going pro was never something I thought about as a kid. It wasn't only a matter of ambition; it was something I simply couldn't afford to dream about. But once I began playing, it became the most important thing in my life. I remember skating at the community rink, wishing my life was different, wishing for a normal family. Those thoughts still come back sometimes, but then I think of Kal and Tray, skating over to me with huge grins on their faces and Tray telling me how my form was off.

I was ready to quit that day, to never return to the rink. But that's when everything started to change. The dark cloud that had been hanging over my life started to lift. Kal's dad got a new job in town, and they moved to Michigan. Kal and Tray quickly became my best friends, and the best part? He loved ice hockey, too. Tray met Kal outside the rink that day, and from then on, we practiced together, always discussing how it would be to emulate the players on TV.

Playing professionally has been our dream for years. We've spent countless hours on the ice, pushing each other, dreaming together. And now, for the first time, it appears to be within reach. The dream that once appeared distant is now closer than ever.

"You were killing it out there, Quake," Tray mutters in his cubby next to mine. He stands directly facing me, his flaccid dick hanging in my eye level as I muster up the energy to undo my skates. This is normal in the changing room. We never hide ourselves away. We're guys and all friends. However, Tray does this on purpose. He loves getting his dick out because it's the biggest fucking dick I've ever seen. Any excuse and that weapon is waving around, ready to take you out. King is also gay, and he makes sure everyone knows it. He gives no shits what people think of him and to be honest, I admire it. I sigh, sitting up, as King leans against the wall of my cubby. Trayton has the best banter between the three of us. And taunting each other is what we do best.

"I'm not sucking it," I joke, but keeping a straight face, while I hold eye contact as I punch his stomach. Tray folds himself in half, sucking in a breath after the one I punched out of him.

"In your dreams," he wheezes while staggering to the showers.

"Bray," I hear quietly as I attempt to remove my skates again. I worked too hard today, and the ache is already setting in. My arms and legs feel as if they are made of jelly. I sigh again, sitting up, and Kal stands there facing me. He rarely calls me Bray, but the way his eyes cast downward, refusing every contact, tells me he's feeling guilty about something. Before he can even continue, I put my hand up.

"You don't need to feel guilty for not telling me about the scouts." He sits down next to me.

"I wanted to, but I didn't want to get your hopes up. It wasn't definite, and this is them getting a feel for us. It's not them coming and hoping to sign anyone. I wasn't even meant to know. I think Coach was going to keep it to himself, but I overheard a phone call and confronted him."

"It's cool, Kal. Don't worry, I will forgive you 100 percent if you take my skates off for me though, my arms are jelly after that practice session. You weren't taking prisoners today."

"You fucker." Kal laughs as he drops in front of me and takes my skates off. Kal never has to feel guilty. Everything he and his family have done for me has always been for my best interests. Kal's mom is like the mom I wish I had, and his dad kitted me out with the finest hockey gear. I spent many nights and weekends at their house growing up. Even though Kal's dad is one of the most important board members on Hawksview, I always maintained good grades. I didn't want to get a position in this college, because I knew Kal. I want to work for it and I did. I still do.

"I need you all on your top form, especially you, Bray." His eyes soften as he glances up at me. "I need you to control your anger on the ice on Saturday. You need to show them you're a killer on the ice but a killer that sinks pucks, not fists. Got it, champ?" He smacks my thigh as he takes the last skate off.

"Got it, Cap." I salute him.

"Go shower, you stink." He throws his towel at me and spins on his heels, heading for the shower. Honestly, I could lay my head back right here and go sleep, but I need to hit up the gym and get myself in that sauna and steam room to try to loosen these muscles. Otherwise, I won't be moving, let alone skating on Saturday.