The Hookup Pact

6| Atlas: Ice packs and bruised egos

Miller skated past me again as I was making my way to the bench. "What's wrong, Griffin? Distracted much?"

I shoved him away and he flashed me a grin before skating past me, doing his obnoxious victory...whatever the hell that was. Calling it a dance would be an insult to all the dance forms in this world.

I gritted my teeth and swallowed the few choice words hanging from the tip of my tongue. The Tigers had won fair and square. And even though I wanted to throw a tantrum I knew I couldn't. It was our failure. My failure as a captain.

I could say nothing back because I was in fact distracted. We could have at least avoided the shutout if I hadn't been so damn distracted by a girl wearing my jersey.

A girl that hated me about as much as I hated her.

The silence among us as we all gathered around the bench spoke loads about the despair each one of us was feeling. The freshmen looked like they were on the verge of tears. I met Coach's gaze, but he said nothing. And that made me feel even worse. I'd much rather have him chew my ear off with his curses than have him stare at me with that look in his eyes.

I gulped and lowered my eyes to stare at the ice beneath my skates. My one mistake put a black spot in the Wellsfield Eagles' history.

"Go home. We'll have a meeting tomorrow at 10," Coach announced before walking away.

"Captain?" Holden, one of our freshmen players, called. I looked up to see everyone looking at me, hoping for me to say something as their captain. But what was I supposed to say? That I let all of them down?

I cleared my throat. "Let's go home. We can discuss things later."

They nodded and one by one started shuffling towards the locker room. Before I followed them, I caught sight of a familiar figure sitting in the front rows and my blood ran cold. There, with his signature ball cap on was my agent, Henry Rodriquez.

He shook his head when our eyes met, and my heart sunk lower in my stomach. But what hit me like a sucker punch to the gut was the expression on Evelyn's face as she stood up from her spot on the bench nearby. She offered me a strained smile, putting the last nail in the coffin.

I had never felt worse than what I was feeling at that moment.

***

What the fuck?

My grip tightened on the phone, fingers almost crushing the device as the letters on the screen blurred into an unrecognizable blob. As if last night's game wasn't enough, the article written by our so-called promotional team was like rubbing red chili peppers on open wounds.

Maybe the Eagles need a complete makeover if they want to go to the Frozen Four this year. Maybe Griffin isn't the best with the title of Captain.

Something similar to a half scoff and half snort left me and I unceremoniously slammed my coffee mug on the counter, making a loud thud echo through the kitchen. The guys turned their heads to look at me but then quickly went back to whatever they were doing. There were a few more comments about the game and my performance which I decided to skip.

I scrolled down to the very bottom of the article and to no one's surprise, Evelyn Hayes was typed under the heading writer and editor.

"Of course," I scoffed. I'd thought Rosy and I were on friendly terms after the start of the promotional project and our little encounter at the cafe but nope. Leave it to Rosy to stir up drama with such below-the-belt tactics just to irk me.

I ran my eyes over the entire article again complete with a photo of me when I had failed to score and the scoreboard at the very end of the game before snorting and pressing the back button as if pressing it hard enough would delete the events of last night as well. "I'm leaving," I grumbled and threw my backpack on, heading for the door.