Page 30 of Ice Darling
I nod in approval.
Gunner remains seated, rubbing his chin as if something’s bothering him. “Why are you only telling us?” he asks, his face as serious as always. “Shouldn’t the entire team be here?”
Max tugs at his collar. “Well, the thing is…not everyone on the team can make it.”
The smile drips off my face. I step back, thinking of Theilan and Watson in particular. “What do you mean?”
“I’m opening an official training camp. A tryout of sorts. I’m inviting Lucky Strikers team members, along with some other players I’ve been scouting. We’ll organize a tournament, and we—the four of us, I mean—are going to score each player. Pick the best. Make it legit.”
“Are we competing too?” Gunner asks, lips tense.
“No.”
“Why not?” I ask.
Max points at each of us. “You three are senior players.”
“You mean we’re your top pick,” Chance says, his somber expression matching Gunner’s.
“I know it feels uncomfortable, but it has to be done, guys.”
“The Lucky Strikers won’t be the Lucky Strikers anymore,” Chance whispers.
“It’s cutthroat,” I grunt.
“To go to the top, things have to change,” Max answers solemnly. “A small-town team can be kumbaya until the cows come home. A pro team comes with higher stakes and higher expectations.”
It’s true, but then…it also feels like we’re stabbing our friends in the back.
No one speaks again.
In the thick of the tension, my phone rings.
I answer distractedly. “What?”
“Hello? Mr. Renthrow?” a frazzled voice says in my ear.
I pull the phone back and check the screen.
It’s Gordie’s school.
Instantly on alert, I put the phone back to my ear and grind out, “Is Gordie okay?”
Chance, Gunner, and Max all look at me, their muscles tense.
“Yes. I mean…” the secretary breathes out, “I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean? What happened?” I growl.
“She’s under the desk…”
“Under the what?”
“It’s hard to explain, but something’s wrong. I think you better get down here.”
Chapter Eleven
Renthrow
