Page 16 of Slapshot
“The place looks great.”
“Thank you.” It really does. I’m sort of surprised with myself.
“If you get a chance, can you take the water cooler out to the bench.”
“Oh, sure. Is that something Alec did?”
“Yeah. We don’t officially have practices on Sundays but some of the guys like to come in.”
“Sure, I’m just finishing up in here. I’ll take it out now. Anything else?”
“Nah, enjoy your Sunday.”
I lug the large cooler out to the bench.
Lex, Ash, and the Graham twins are on the ice. Paxton is standing off to the side watching while the other three skate hard from one end toward the other. Patrick handles the puck as he skates down the ice. He sends a short pass to Ash on his right. Ash sends it sailing to the left side where Lex drops it into the empty net.
I stumble and nearly drop the cooler. The noise gets Paxton’s attention. He rushes to help me, and we maneuver it in place.
“Thanks. We could have helped you with that.”
“You just did.”
“Well, I mean next time. Before you try to carry it out here yourself, ask. That’s what freshmen are for.” Paxton Graham, one of Moo U’s star players regards me with a sincere smile. There are too many nice guys on this team making it hard to hate them.
“Thanks, but I can handle it,” I assure him. I will not appear weak in front of these guys. There’s nothing worse than people thinking you’ve been given something because of your father. Even if that’s exactly what happened here.
A gush of cool air halts me in my tracks as Lex skates up. He tears off his helmet and runs a hand through his blond hair. “How was that?” He asks Paxton. His gaze falls on me and I get a slight chin jut of acknowledgment before he looks back to Pax. “Can we do some more? Maybe three-man weave again?”
Paxton chuckles softly. “Take a breather, man.”
Lex drops his helmet back on his head. “I’ll work on face-offs with the guys while you slack off.” He briefly glances at me again. “Hey, Kaitlyn. Have fun last night?”
“Certain parts were entertaining.”
He smiles and then skates off.
“He’s intense,” I say when he’s out of earshot.
“Lex is cool. He’s got tunnel vision right now, trying to get more ice time during games. He’s fast, left-handed, good stick skills…”
“What’s the problem?” I’m sorry I asked almost instantly.Do not get involved. You don’t care.
He leans on his stick. “He wants it too much. Too inside his own head. Focused on himself and not able to read the ice. He can’t find a good rhythm with the rest of the guys and ultimately that means a lot more to the team.”
“Well, good luck.”
“Hey, wait. Maybe you can help.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, Declan Dalager’s daughter. He was legendary for seeing the ice. What would he say or do?” Admiration burns in his eyes.
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m sure whatever Coach says is far more appropriate.”
“Come on, yes you do. What would your dad say?”
I nod because I do know. Work harder than everyone else is practically the Dalager family motto. It’s the way my dad approaches everything in life. Undeterred, unwavering dedication. It’s admirable so long as you aren’t the thing being tossed aside for someone’s passion.
