Page 30 of The Home Grown
Typical Johnny.
I study him for a moment before deciding now is the right moment to test the waters, so to speak.
“Do we need to up the energy?” I ask, letting my focus slip to Rick Langdon for a second.
Johnny notices straight away, angling himself so he blocks off my view of the opposing bench.
“Please don’t get any ideas … Kel?—”
“I know, I know,” I say, my jaw tightening.
My sister, Kelly, is here tonight—not for me, but for Johnny.
Since they’re trying to make a proper go of things, she’s been coming to games to show her support for his dreams or whatever, but the catch is, Kelly hates fighting, and Johnny knows it all too well. So, if she thinks he’s encouraged me to get into a brawl, she’ll give us both hell—which means I’ll end up getting crap from them both.
I’m not sure I want the hassle.
“We need to focus on our next goal,” Johnny says again. “Because it’s?—”
The sound of rubber hitting metal sails through the air, paired with a collective groan from the crowd as one of the twins sends a shot a little too high.
“Of all the teams we play against … you know I don’t enjoy losing to these.” My tone is sharp. Every single iota of rage I have for them shining through.
I lean forward to get another look at Langdon, but Johnny follows my movement and blocks my view. He frowns, reaches for a bottle and squirts a stream of water into his mouth.
“I know you’re holding a grudge, but please just let it go,” he says.
“He cost me my summer job,” I snap. “And he’s one ofthem… I’d say he owes me a few grand. But I’d settle for teeth in this instance … and maybe just a little blood.”
Johnny stares at me indignantly. “For the love of …”
Luckily for me, the left D-man from our third pair rolls home and I take my cue, standing up and taking a seat on the shelf briefly.
“I mean it, Betts. Play safe, because fighting aside, you don’t need any more penalty minutes. Think of your prospects and consider who you’re up against.”
He’s referring to my opportunity to make the Team GB roster and the fact that training camp starts on Monday. Or at least I hope it does. I’m still waiting for the GM to ‘have a wordwith me’, which, according to Vicky, will be when he decides he wants to—something I knew was coming sooner rather than later.
Instead of throwing Johnny a flippant comment in return, I take in his words because I know he’s right.
I hop onto the ice and break out into a burst of power towards my position on the blueline. I come to a halt, receiving a pass from one of the twins—I can’t tell which—before sailing it across to my right pair, Yatesy, just as a shoulder nudges my own, pushing me right into the boards.
I know who it is without seeing his offensive jersey.
Fucking Langdon.
“What the hell do you want?” I murmur.
He grins at me for a second before skating away and because the play moves over to the opposite side of the ice, I follow his lead, hot on his trail as I mark him, poking at the toe of his stick as the puck shifts into his possession briefly.
It frees enough to give me an opportunity, sailing it over to the forward waiting in front of the net who fires it towards Greer, the opposing netminder, but he makes an easy save, causing the stripes to whistle up and reset the play.
Greer is decent. Another Brit who joined their roster last season after his stint on the national team upped his skill-set and made him a strong contender against the import goalies most teams go for—our team included. And Greer may be my soon-to-be teammate, but today, he’s the enemy and I’m focusing in on his position so I can play the puck appropriately.
I skate towards my position behind the face-off when the ref calls Danny in for a quick chat.
That’s when I spot Langer skating towards me. He makes out like he’s going to sail right past, but he bumps my shoulder hard, almost shoving me over.
“Feeling nervous?” I taunt. “Because we both know we’re teasing you by giving you a lead.”
