My name is Bobby Drake and I am the man. The Iceman they call me. I have a pretty good life, I'm captain of the hockey team, ice lacrosse team and the most popular and wanted guy in school. Nothing can stand in the way of me, it gets dealt with.
At least that's what I tell myself as I walk towards math class early in the morning on the first day of school. It's the one place my awesomeness doesn't seem to work. If I fail this exam, my parents are going to kill me. And no amount of extra credit will save me, I'll have to retake grade 9 math in the summer. And I'm a junior, it's a great way to start the school year.
I pull out my earbuds, the heavy metal music that usually hypes me up before a game is not helping my mood. I had to get to school early before class starts to write the exam that I missed last year because of hockey. I may have forgotten to tell my parents that I would have to retake it. And they were furious when they found out that I didn't actually pass math.
Sighing I open the door. Mr. Richards sits in his grand oak desk, his tiny glasses do nothing to enlarge his rodent like eyes. He looks up from his math text book, probably looking up questions to torture the freshman with. "Ah, Mr. Drake, ready to begin your long delayed exam?"
No. "Of course Teach. I've been practicing." I say confidently sitting at the desk where the exam waits, with a pencil and calculator.
"Good. I made them slightly more challenging since technically you're a junior now and you should be doing junior math."
Great. I didn't actually work on my math like I should of. In fact, it was the last thing on my mind. I smile as I think of meeting Judy Harman again at a beach party. I've noticed her before then, but it wasn't until that party in July we really got to know each other. We've been going out since. I can almost smell her rose perfume, making me want to be anywhere with her instead of here.
"Robert?" Ugh I hate that name.
"Yeah?" I look at Mr. Richards.
"The clocks ticking, stop daydreaming and do your test." He sounds annoyed, I don't care. I slump into my chair and flip through the numbers in front of me. The exam is ten pages long. I glance at the old clock above Mr. Richards desk. 7:00, it's going to be a long hour and a half.
**
Housany flicks the puck towards me, I receive it with my stick. And bolt towards the enemy net.
"Yeah Bobby!" I hear Judy cheer from the stands. I speed faster across the ice, dodging, dribbling and weaving past the enemy's defences. It's the first game of the season and we are going to win.
I'm only ten feet from the goalie, he squares his shoulders in preparation. Though I can see the slight shaking in his knees, he's nervous. I smile, good.
As I approach the net, I feign to the left, he easily falls for it and I shoot to the right instead. Amateur.
Immediately I'm surrounded by my team mates yelling my name. "Iceman! Iceman!" I relish it. My mind is void of anything else, only the victory matters.
We skate off the ice, hooting and yelling at the enemy team, after we said good game of course.
As I step off the rink, Judy comes to meet me. I smile. She's the prettiest girl in our grade. She has long blonde ombré hair and full lips. Which she presses against mine.
"Good job out there," She whispers in my ear breathlessly. She's one of the few people that don't call me Iceman.
"Thanks," I say back. "Maybe we should celebrate tonight. The usual fry place?"
"Bobby you're going to make me get fat with all that junk food." She fake complains.
The guys start to pull me away towards the change room. "Fine," I yell over the crowds of people. "The sushi bar?" She grins and shouts something that I can't hear. But I can tell it's a date from the nodding of her head.
In the change room the guys and I talk about other stuff besides the game. Like classes and girls in our school. Most of us go to CHS, Cloverfield High School, which means we're pretty tight outside of hockey too.
As we're talking I get a good look at my stick. The parts where my gloves were touching it are encrusted in ice. Shoot. Quickly I cover it with my hockey bag, before the other guys see it.
"Hello, earth to Drake." Daniel Hosany says. I completely lost track about what he was talking about.
"Huh? Yeah sounds cool, be right back, gotta use the restroom." Hosany rolls his eyes and continues his story with the others.
I shuffle towards the stalls and lock myself in. Carefully I take off my hockey gloves, to reveal heat packs that are completely frozen. Damn. At least my hands are normal now, though my gloves are frozen rock solid again.
I sigh in slight frustration. This started happening about a year ago. I would randomly get really cold, though none of the doctors could find a reason for it. Soon I was able to freeze things if I got cold enough. I have more control over it now, but it gets worse when I'm excited or anxious. So I have to put heat packs in my gloves to warm myself up, before a game. At first the other guys thought that it was weird, but they stopped questioning it when they saw how many goals I was scoring for our team. Also being captain has its perks.
My parents are going to kill me when they see that I froze another pair of gloves and my stick. It's not the stuff that they care about, the ice can easily melt off. It's the fact that I did it that annoys them. They think my condition is an illness. Before I can melt the ice there's a loud knock on the stall door.
"Drake get out of there I need to speak to you." Coach Hedley barks. The guy never has a volume quieter than a yell.
I stuff my hands back into my freezing cold gloves and put them behind my back. I step out to face the coach. "What's up coach?"
All the other guys have left, probably the coach told them to leave. He puts his hand on my shoulder. "Son I have a proposition for you. How would you like to join the senior team?"
I stare at him, I've been waiting for this to happen, but I thought it wasn't going to until later on in the season. "Jeez coach I don't know what to say."
"Say yes son."
"Yes of course. Thank you so much coach." I grin.
He squeezes my shoulder and looks me in the eye. "But it won't be easy. Keep working hard and you'll be on a full ride scholarship by the time you graduate."
I nod, gathering my stuff. "I won't let you down coach."
"Practices start tomorrow everyday 5 to 8."
"Got it coach." That's a lot of practices, but I don't mind, I love hockey.
**
"No." Mom says calmly between a bite of asparagus.
"What?" I drop my fork.
"You heard your mother. We are not letting you join the senior team." Dad says.
I'm confused, we talked about this before. My parents both agreed months ago that it would be good for me to have a chance at a scholarship. "What do you mean?"
Mom purses her lips. I know that look, she gets it anytime she talks about my 'condition'.
"I can control it. I'll be fine." I insist before she can start. I was able to melt my gear before they could see the ice.
"Robert," I roll my eyes, I hate it when she uses that name. "We haven't yet found the cause of these symptoms. It is not rational to push yourself carelessly." I hate it when she uses her scientist tone with me. As if I'm one of her lab rats.
"I'm not careless." I say getting angry. I can feel my hands starting to get cold. I tighten my hands so my parents can't see.
"We know son. We're just trying to be careful. You should focus on your studies instead, something more mellow. We don't want another incident." Dad tells me.
Unconsciously, we all look at the bandages on Ronny's right hand. I flinch at the memory. It's been almost month, but my brother's hand is still tender from the frost bite.
I remember we were having one of our regular arm wrestles. The last Twinkie in the house was on the line. I was just going to let him have it because I was feeling cold again and wasn't in the mood for an arm wrestle. But it was our thing, if I didn't do it it would be admitting that I'm not stronger. That's ridiculous because I win every time, thinking back I should have just left it. Next thing I knew Ronny was screaming and frosty mist was emanating from my pale fingers.
It won't happen again. "This is the opportunity I've been waiting for. I can get a scholarship doing what I love Dad, doesn't that make you guys at least a bit proud?"
My parents exchange anxious glances. What now? My dad takes a deep breath. "Bobby your mom and I have been thinking." He pauses as if not sure how to continue. "Maybe it's time for you to take a break from hockey."
"What?!" I wait hoping that this is some kind of joke. I glance at Robby who's been sitting there silently the whole time picking at his asparagus, waiting for him to drop the act and start laughing. Maybe he's in on it too. He doesn't bring his grey eyes up from his plate though, his longish black hair acting as a shield from my gaze.
I realize that it's not a joke, my parents are honestly out to get me. "You've got to be kidding me." No one seems to meet my eyes.
Then Mom looks at me. "It makes the most sense-"
That's it. "Is that all you care about?" I demand. I can feel this ice creeping from my fists, but I don't care. "You choose logic over your own son. Never once even considering what I think of all this. Do you think it's easy?" I snap.
Mom glances down at my hands, the ice is spreading across the table. "Bobby, calm down." She says sternly.
I try to, I really don't want to hurt anyone, but I can't. It's just too much. I lift my hands off the table, they're covered in a thick layer of frosty ice. "Can I be excused?" I don't wait for an answer, instead I push out my chair and stomp up the stairs.
The sad thing is, they don't even bother to call me back downstairs. Wherever I step I leave an icy footstep, I don't bother to look down I just know.
Once I reach the sanctuary of my room I slam the door. My body races with anger and adrenaline, I need to throw something. My gaze settles on the chair in the corner of my room, that will do. As soon as I touch it, ice races across it's surface. It shatters to pieces as it impacts the wall. That felt good. I want to do more.
I thrust my hands at the wall above my bed. Beams of ice and snow flow at out of them, creating an icy ball of snow on the wall. I put my hands down and the ice stops. Then I get an idea.
I thrust them out again except this time pointing at certain area of the wall. I let myself release all the bottled up emotions I had into the ice.
I put my hands on my hips when I finish and admire my handiwork. The ice on the wall spells "F U". The letters are too close together so it looks like I said fu, but I understand it.
My fingers tingle from the exertion. I go to my bathroom. Usually splashing water on my face calms me down. Then maybe I can go apologize to my parents and we could talk about them letting me play on at least the junior team.
When I look into the mirror a different person than usual stares back. The guy looking back at me looks similar. Still tall and athletic. But where my blonde hair was are ice spikes, my blue eyes take on an even colder blue. And my skin has turned into opaque ice, covered in snow.
I touch my face. My ice hard fingers scrape against my new skin. It's then that I realize that my parents will never let me play hockey. Not now that this is who I am. Their old son is gone and they don't like the new one. Even my own brother can't look at me the same way and neither can I.
But like before, I don't care. I stare at my new reflection, my frosted eyebrows are scrunched in determination. I'm going to play hockey. Because I'm the Iceman and nothing gets in my way.