Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
This is going to be fun.
Campus is practically empty as I head for the rink for the first day of camp. There are a few summer programs the school runs, but it’s an eerie ghost town without the full student body present.
Everybody else is going home or on vacations, and we’re going to be stuck inside the arena or weight room six days a week for the next seven weeks.
I never thought that would be so appealing.
I swipe my key card at the school arena and go straight to the locker room. I’m a few minutes late, and of course, Jacobs doesn’t let that fly.
“Captains should be the first to arrive and last to leave.” He’s clearly reshaved the sides of his head right before camp, leaving his trademark length on top. Between that and his attitude, I swear nothing ever changes with this guy.
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll remember that for when I’m captain next season.”
The rest of the guys let out hollers and “Ooohs.”
We have a twenty-five-man roster, but only twelve of us stay to help out over the summer. We take the high school kids through training drills and help build their skills while the coaches scout for who looks like a promising future mountain lion.
I go to my usual cubby and start to undress so I can suit up.
I’m surprised Jacobs doesn’t have a retort. He might not, but Cohen does.
He’s next to me, and he steps close while he takes his shirt off.
“Personal space, much?”
“Just so you know, I’m team Jacobs.”
“I’m team Edward.”
Cohen rolls his eyes. “Twilight references? Really?”
“I have a sister.”
“Mmhmm, sure.”
“You got a point, Cohen?”
“Yeah. Even though my vote is gonna be for him, I thought I’d give you a heads-up. He’s already campaigning for it. If he gets every vote from the summer camp guys, he’ll win majority easy once the semester starts. You might want to pull your weight.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Do you even want it?”
I lose my amusement in this conversation. “I would’ve turned it down if I didn’t want it.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to work for it. That’s all I’m saying.”
I’m not afraid of hard work, but considering this whole thing involves winning over my teammates—my friends—I’d say I won’t have to work as hard as Cohen thinks.
Jacobs is driven and great at hockey, but he’s not exactly friendly. He hung off Grant for three years, popular by proximity, and now Grant’s graduated and moving on, Jacobs is on his own.
If anyone can put on a smile and sway someone’s vote, it’s me.
I reach for my practice jersey, but Cohen stops me.
“We have to wear game uniform the first day. Coach likes us to be intimidating.”
Of course he does.
It’s all about the mind games when it comes to hockey.
Once we’re all ready to go, we wait for the assistant coach to come get us to make an entrance.
And yep, as soon as we hit the ice, all the kids’ eyes widen. All forty pairs. Out of all of them sitting there, a quarter will be given scholarships to wear a mountain lion’s jersey in a year’s time. The odds aren’t good, but even being accepted into this camp is an accomplishment. I never came to one here at CU. My parents sent me to the most expensive private hockey camps money could buy. These guys got here on talent.
The kids are sitting in the team boxes, and I know they’re all around sixteen and seventeen years old, but they look like babies. It’s hard to believe I was their age only four years ago.
Time is moving way too fast.
“Meet your mentors for the summer,” Coach says. “These are the guys you have to impress. They report to us. But rest assured, we’re also watching.” Coach blows his whistle and turns to us. “Show ’em what you’ve got, boys. Scrimmage.”
The team splits into two lines. Schofield, our backup goalie from last season who’ll be number one this year, joins my line. The others kind of hesitate before deciding between my side and Jacobs’s, who only has Cohen.
Jacobs’s scowl is hard and directed at me. How original for him. “Martin, Hansen, and Rossi, you go to Beck’s side. He’ll need some actual scorers over there.”
The guys snicker and come over to me.
I try not to laugh because for a D-man, I have a high scoring record. Nowhere near as high as Jacobs’s, but it’s not supposed to be. I’m not just a bruiser on the ice. I help set up plays and get the puck in our zone.
Rossi takes center and skates up to face off with Greer.
I happen to be opposite Jacobs. Total accident, I swear.
We show the kids we’re “mentoring” this summer what it’s like to play college hockey, and coming off our Frozen Four win, we go all out to show off what we can do.