CROSS-CHECKED (VSOO)

1

Taehyung

Coach's voice cracked like a whip through the rink.

"ANDERSON, MOVE YOUR DAMN FEET!"
The boards echoed as John tried to pick up his pace. I passed the puck clean to his stick, watching it slip right through and slam against the wall.

I sighed, skating to the circle again, sweat trickling down my temple. My chest was burning, but I kept my posture tight. No slouching. Eyes sharp. We didn't get to the top by being lazy.

Coach blew the whistle again. "You boys want to keep your NHL contracts? Then start skating like your asses depend on it!"

Another round. The puck snapped to me, I passed to Joshua, who flicked it to Sean. I liked the rhythm. It was rough, fast, and brutal — just how Silverridge practiced.

One last whistle.

"Enough!" Coach barked, voice hoarse from yelling. "That's it. Practice is over."

Skates slowed. Bodies dropped sticks, some bending over, panting. The cold rink was filled with heat and frustration — exactly how Coach liked it.

He gathered us at center ice.

"Captain," he nodded at me, "keep the tempo. You know what needs fixing — work on zone transitions, especially the second line. Everyone, I want crisp passing, tighter defense, and no more missed power plays. You're not just college kids — you're NHL-bound athletes. Earn it."

With that, he left us in the haze of our breath and the sharp sting of critique.

I exhaled. Not my worst practice — but not my best either. I knew what I had to tighten: edge work, speed out of the corner, and passing under pressure. The kind of stuff that makes or breaks your draft contract.

I skated off, pulling off my helmet, running a hand through my drenched hair.

Let me introduce you to Silverridge Hockey — the team half the country watches, half the NHL wants, and every other college wants to destroy.

First, there's me — Kim Taehyung, team captain. I'm a senior, and likely the first of us to get bumped to full-time NHL after graduation. I've played for Team Korea twice, broke records for most assists in a college season, and yeah — I've got a reputation. On and off the ice.

Then there's John Anderson — 6'3", pure muscle, golden boy of the Midwest. Blond hair, bluer eyes, and a smile that makes girls trip in the hallway. He's a beast in defense, and just as dangerous at parties. A total flirt, almost as bad as me — almost.

Sean Brown comes next — the team's "lucky charm." We call him that because every time the puck deflects or bounces wrong, it somehow lands on his stick and ends up in the net. Nobody knows how he does it. Sean's reliable, sharp, and surprisingly quiet — until you bring up his girlfriend, Alisha.

Joshua Hong is my boy — Korean like me, fast as hell, and cleaner with a stick than half the NHL already. He's witty, talks too much, and is the only guy who can keep up with me at practice without getting gassed. He's also the only person who's seen me at my worst — and didn't walk away.

Alec Deng, our sniper. Half-Chinese, half-savage. His slapshot has broken boards before. Quiet off the ice, but fierce in the rink. When he's focused, even I stay out of his way.

Leo Martinez — our goalie. Cuban-American, reflexes like lightning. He's short-tempered and hates losing more than anyone I know. He once threw a stick across the rink because someone didn't cover the crease.

Noah Grant, enforcer. Canadian. Built like a tank. If someone even looks at one of us wrong, Noah's gloves are off before the puck hits the ice.

That's us — the Silverridge Wolves. Most of us already drafted by NHL teams, some just waiting for the right season to make the jump.

After practice, I walked toward the locker room with Sean and Joshua, sticks slung over our shoulders, helmets in hand.

Joshua nudged me. "Did you see Crestridge's latest stats? Jay's been on fire."

I rolled my eyes. "I'd rather get slammed into the boards than hear his name."

"Jay" — Park Jeongsong — was the captain of Crestridge, and the only player in college I genuinely hated. Another Korean kid like me, but that's where the similarities ended. Last season, we clashed so hard in playoffs we both got suspended — me for swinging, him for instigating. I still think I had the cleaner hit.

"He's not that good," I muttered. "Just dirty."

Joshua grinned. "Dirty enough to get under your skin."

Sean changed the subject, thankfully. "Anyway, Alisha's throwing that bonfire party tonight — says it's mandatory for me, so that means you two are coming too."

Joshua perked up. "I'm in. Might be fun to scope out some of the other cheer girls."

Sean smirked. "Still thinking with your—"

I chuckled, running a towel over my neck. "Hmm. Depends. How many new girls are showing up?"

Joshua elbowed me. "Exactly. Come on, hyung. Let loose. Maybe you'll find someone worth your time."

Sean rolled his eyes. "You two are the worst."

I shrugged, that familiar cocky smirk creeping in. "Why have one when I can enjoy the rotation?"

Sean shook his head, laughing. "You're gonna get punched one day."

"Maybe," I grinned, grabbing my bag, "but at least I'll have fun before it happens."

The three of us walked out of the rink, the evening sun casting long shadows over the ice. I didn't know it yet, but tonight — that bonfire? It was going to be anything but routine.