14.
I had somehow managed to leave Chris's house feeling somewhat confident about my abilities to knock Aiden down a notch.
Chris and Riley were both surprisingly patient with me, taking the time to break down everything into little pieces for me to understand. I learned a lot. They broke down the whole sport, not just shooting the puck or pass it, but the different penalties and some basic slang terms. Riley explained to me all the different positions. There was a total of six players for each team out on the ice at any given time. Three forwards – left wing, right wing, and center. Plus, two defensive men and the goaltender.
The most important part of yesterday's lesson was of course the shooting. A key component to hockey that I was desperate to learn in order to rub it in Aiden's face. My whole plan to trick him into a losing a bet revolved on me being able to shoot a goal.
"Here goes nothing," I muttered to myself. The clock on my car's dash read 10:04. I needed to get inside; I was already late. Traffic in town had been surprisingly heavy.
By the time I grabbed my duffel bag from the backseat, got inside, changed into my practice clothes, and made it out onto the ice it was 10:21. I was more than twenty minutes late for our practice, and yet, Aiden was nowhere to be seen.
A sigh of frustration slipped from my lips. For five minutes I skated around ice aimlessly before I noticed Aiden was sitting on the bleachers, lacing up his skates. I couldn't say much considering that I too was late today, but this was not Aiden's first offense.
"I know I'm late," he grunted, not bothering to look up from his skates as he finished lacing them. He must have heard me skate up. "Something personal came up."
There was an annoyance that rang in his tone, but it wasn't the usual annoyance that I was accustomed to hearing. This sounded more personal. I had a feeling that for once, I wasn't the cause of his bitter mood.
I held my hands up in defense. "Hey now, I didn't evening say anything."
A sigh left his lips, and I was quickly met with a pair of dark eyes. He narrowed them. "Yet."
Aiden didn't just look annoyed, he looked down right pissed.
He stood from the bench and walked onto the ice, pausing briefly as he turned to me and added, "you didn't say anything yet."
I remained frozen in the same spot as Aiden began his warmup. A part of me felt bad for him. What was it that had put him in such a foul mood?
Curiosity had gotten the best of me, and I couldn't help myself as I turned on my skates and sprinted forward to catch up to him. We may not have been friends, but I couldn't help that I wanted to know what his problem was. The logical side of my brain told me to ignore it, that I shouldn't care whether he was okay or not. Afterall, we weren't exactly friends.
For once, I didn't listen. "Hey, are you okay?"
Aiden came to an abrupt stop in front of me, resulting in me having to do an emergency hockey style stop to avoid hitting him causing ice to spray up onto him. I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
He raised his eyebrows as his chocolate eyes met mine. This time they weren't filled with as much hatred as before. "Since when do you care?"
I sucked in a short breath, letting my teeth clamp down onto the insides of my cheeks. That was the million-dollar question. Why did I care? A logical answer would have been that it was hard to work with someone who was in a bad mood. But in this specific case, I knew that wasn't why I was curious. This time I just felt bad. From the dark, brooding look in his eyes and, on his face, I could tell that there was a lot more going on than just a small personal incident. It had to have been something bigger.
"I'm just trying to be the bigger person here, Aiden. It'll be hard to get through this practice if we are already fighting before we even start."
Although this wasn't the exact reason I had asked if he were okay, it wasn't a lie either. If we started off the practice already fighting, then it would only get worse from there. We fought with each other when we were in good moods. I didn't feel like finding out how bad we could be in a bad mood.
Aiden's eyes narrowed skeptically, like he wasn't sure what to think of me. He turned his head to the middle of the ice, focusing on the hockey net. "I'm sure you'll find out at some point."
He took off in the direction of the net, and I frowned, remaining in the same spot. What did that mean? We didn't run in the same friend group, so how was I supposed to find out what was wrong with him if he didn't tell me?
Aiden didn't give me much time to dwell on his words before he called out to me with a loud grunt. "Let's just get started."
I sucked in a large breath. There was nothing like a direct coach, straight to the point. I pushed myself into a slow skate in his direction, wishing that I could learn about hockey exclusively from Riley and or Chris. Even though that would defeat the whole purpose of forcing Aiden and I to have to work together, at least then I would have a fighting chance at ever understanding hockey.
"So," I started, deciding that I was going to try and make the most out of this practice. We didn't get along, but I was going to try to make an effort to be civil. Chris wasn't so bad, so maybe there was more to Aiden as well. "How are you planning on embarrassing me today?"
Aiden shoved a hockey stick into my chest. A sly smirk lifted the left side of his lips upward. "Are you admitting that hockey isn't as easy as you thought? Did you realize that not just anyone can push around a plastic puck?"
"Ha."
My first instinct was to get defensive, but his smirk was gone in the blink of an eye and quickly replaced with a soft grin. He was still teasing me, but for once I didn't get the impression it was in a rude manner, but a playful one. Strange. Even the darkness in his brown eyes seemed to have disappeared.
I crossed my arms over my chest. "You aren't going to let me live that down, are you?" Aiden had now brought up my plastic puck comment on several different occasions. I had a sneaky suspicion that no matter what, he was never going to let that one go.
Aiden grinned in response, confirming my fears.
My head fell, accepting the small defeat. The next words to come out of my mouth shocked me more than him. Never, not in a million years, would I have thought to say them, let alone say that to a hockey player of all people.
"There is more to hockey than what meets the eye." I admitted. The words tasted bitter, like a strange venom that might have killed me if I had to repeat them a second time.
With my eyes trained closely onto the black pair of hockey skates that I wore on my feet, I couldn't see Aiden's expression, but I swear I could feel him smirking. He must have felt a surge of triumph like he'd won a major battle in our war.
A few long moments of silence passed between us before Aiden finally spoke. "Today I'm going to show you how to shoot different types of goals." He chose not to acknowledge my confessions. He had every chance to mock me, but for some reason, he chose not to. Maybe he too was trying his best to be civil.
Finally, I lifted my head, watching him cautiously as he picked up a box full of pucks up off the ice.
"There are four different types of shooting," he explained, dumping all the pucks onto the ice in front of me. "I'm only going to show you two of them today and the others I'll show you next time."
Aiden pushed one of the pucks away from the others before he skated over to line himself up with the net. He stopped, his eyes briefly falling to me. "The first shot I'll show you is called a wrist shot." I let out a small sigh of relief. Thank God it was one of the shooting styles Riley and Chris had taught me. "It's the more accurate of the two shots I'll show you today."
The puck went flying effortlessly through the air, smacking the middle of the net with what seemed to be very little effort from Aiden. He had made it look so easy. After last night however, I knew that it would be a lot harder than what he just made it look. I knew that it would take a small miracle for me to pull off my plan.
In theory, the plan was simple. I was going to trick Aiden into making a bet in the same manner that he first tricked me. I needed him to believe that I was hopeless, a total lost cause. Then, when he'd least expect it, I would sink the puck into the net. Hopefully.
My plan had several flaws. The biggest one however was that I really was hopeless with shooting. Convincing Aiden that I was a loss cause was going to be the easy part. Actually making a goal? Well, that was the part that I wasn't sure I could manage.
"The second." Aiden interrupted my thoughts. Another puck flew into the net as effortlessly as the first. "Is a slapshot."
I blinked; my gaze focused on the net in awe. From my perspective the shooting styles looked the exact same. I'd now watched Aiden, Chris, and Riley all demonstrate the different shots, but I couldn't tell the difference. Another flaw in my plan.
"And you expect me to be able to do that?"
Aiden laughed, offering a shrug of his shoulders. "I expect you to at least try."
My shoulders slumped forward. "Fine."
I skated over next to Aiden, skirted to a stop. Pulling one of the pucks over to me using the toe of the stick, I took in a large breath. If I wanted to make this plan work, I needed to convince Aiden that I was not going get the puck into the net.
A breath out, and another breath in. I slid both my hands up to the top of the hockey stick. I knew Aiden would bust me for holding the stick wrong, but I was counting that. I lifted the stick up into the air behind me then swung it forward. The bottom of the stick clashed against the ice and I frowned. I'd missed the puck completely.
"This isn't going to work," I grumbled. Part of my plan was to suck, but I hadn't meant to actually miss the puck. I turned my head over to Aiden who was currently standing with a satisfied grin at my blatant miss.
"You could start by fixing your hand placement."
I knew he was going to bust me for that. But for show, I deepened my frown as though I hadn't known my own my mistake. Seeing the look on my face, he adjusted his hands to the correct placement on his own stick to demonstrate. I offered a curt nod and fixed my own hands to match his.
"When you are shooting you have to transfer your weight from your back leg to your front leg. Don't think of it as just moving your arms. You need to rotate your body to help with the power of the shot." Aiden proceeded to demonstrate the movement before pulling a puck over and showing off another wrist shot. His movement was effortless, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I knew from experience, that it was most definitely not.
Aiden's instructions were similar to Riley's, so luckily, I did have somewhat of an understanding of what I was supposed to do. I was at least able to make a few of these shots last night.
"Try again." Aiden pushed a new puck in my direction.
My second attempt, as terrible as it was, was much better than the first. I actually hit the puck. The puck slid several feet away from the net, but I still hit it.
The same pattern followed for the next thirty minutes, with me gradually getting better to get worse. I would hit the puck; it would veer off to the left or to the right. Occasionally I would miss the puck all together. I think Aiden was actually starting to get annoying by my sucking. He had to keep going to collect all the pucks that were going all over the ice. His amused grin was replaced with a face full of irritation.
It wasn't an act that I sucked at shooting, but I didn't suck quite so bad. The puck would normally go within two feet of the net. This was just for show; a ploy to bait Aiden into making a bet with me.
"I won't lie. I would have thought you would have made at least one goal by now," Aiden snickered.
I stopped the hockey stick mid swing, turned to face Aiden with a fake frown. Our eyes met, and for the briefest second, I couldn't help but find the smirk on his lips to frustratingly attractive.
"I can make a goal," I grumbled, hearing the irritation in my voice ring with each word.
"Your past fifty attempts beg to differ."
I straightened my back, resting my hands cross over the top of the stick, mirroring Aiden's stance. My eyes narrowed. "I bet that I can make the next goal."
My plan was officially put into motion. I'd spent the whole practice missing goal after goal intentionally. If I could get Aiden to agree to making a bet, then I would have to actually try. And, unfortunately, risk the chance of losing yet another bet to him.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.
A soft laughter erupted from Aiden as he skated up next me. He lifted his stick up in the air, executing a poor shot as the toe of the stick barely hit the puck. I watched in annoyance as the puck slowly skirted three feet to the right of the net before coming to a slow stop. Aiden titled his head to the side until his eyes met mine. A cocky grin emerged as he said, "I bet you miss."
A low growl left my lips. "I'm not that bad." I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling highly annoyed by his arrogance. "I can make a goal."
He raised his eyebrows. "Oh yeah?" His dark eyes jumped from mine to all the many, many pucks that were scattered around the ice from all my failed attempts. "Sure looks like it."
"Statistically speaking I am bound to make a goal eventually."
Aiden snorted. "And yet you still haven't after a hundred attempts."
"You are so full of it. You really think that I can't make a goal?"
"I think you would have made one by now if you were going to."
There was a sense of triumph in Aiden's dark brown eyes as if he had already won this bet before it was even placed. It only made me want to do this bet more. He needed his ego to be knocked down. I had to make this next goal. Failure was not an option.
"I bet you're wrong. I bet that I can, and will make a goal."
Aiden's lips curled into a smirk, and he extended out his hand. "Fine. Make it a bet. But if you miss, like I know that you will, then you have to come to the hockey scrimmage tonight."
My gut twisted inside my stomach, face scrunched. The thought of having to attend a hockey game if I missed this goal was nerve wracking. It added a whole new level of pressure. I had only made a handful of goals last night. I wasn't sure how this was going to go, but I knew that I couldn't back out now.
I bit my lip as I slowly, and cautiously, reached out my hand to shake his. "Deal."
For most people, having to attend a hockey wouldn't have been that big of a deal. For me however, it would be pure torture. You might as well just pull out my teeth.
My hand his against Aiden's, sending a billion butterflies swirling inside of me. His grip was firm, confident. I could tell that he really believed that I was not going to be able to make a goal. The bet was official. This was my chance.
"Let's see this wrist shot then."
I pulled my hand away and turned to face the net. I fixed my hand positioning on the stick, making sure that I was prepared to actually try hitting the puck. Here goes nothing.
Closing my eyes, I took in a large breath of cold air. I thought of everything that Riley and Chris taught me last night. Focus Zoe, you can do this. I shifted my weight from front to back, drew my energy from my core muscles, and took the shot. The blade of the stick hit the puck, lifting it off the ice. The puck soared through the air as if it were in slow motion before finally hitting the top left corner of the net.
Goal!
A squeal of excitement slipped from me as I jumped up before spinning around in a small circle to celebrate my large victory. An actual miracle had just happened.
"I think you owe me an apology," I crowed, skating a single circle around Aiden before stopping in front of him. My eyes twinkled with mirth.
Aiden's dark eyes narrowed onto me, his mouth slightly agape. He didn't seem annoyed or angry. Instead, he almost looked impressed. After a few long moments he pressed his weight onto his hands that rested atop his stick, leaned towards me. "Very clever, Lodge."
"I'm clever?"
"You got help from somewhere else to be able to do that."
My smile didn't falter, I kept my eyes locked to his. I was innocent until proven guilty. "What makes you think that? You are the one who just showed me how to do this. Remember?"
Aiden's eyes bored into mine. He shook his head. "No, I did not."
"Uh, yeah, you did."
He shook his head for a second time. "No, until now I had you working on a wrist shot. What you just did was a slapshot."
Oops.
I let out a small, humorless laugh. How was I supposed to know which one was which? To me they looked the same. All I knew was that it was a miracle that I managed to make a goal.
"You showed me a slapshot too."
Aiden raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, once over a half hour ago."
"Lucky shot."
"That was not your first attempt at a slapshot."
It wasn't a question. Aiden was stating the truth. He and I both knew that there was no way that could have been my first attempt. It wasn't. But, in all fairness, it might as well have been. Clearly, I couldn't tell the difference between the shooting styles.
I could have answered Aiden, confessed to getting help from one of his teammates, but instead I opted to counter him with a question of my own. "Was if your first attempt at a spiral before when you challenged me?
Aiden fell silent. For the first time since I met Aiden, he didn't push back. He broke our eye contact, turning his head in the direction of the exit. "Whatever," he mumbled.
Another small victory.
"I'll have to think of what I want from you. For now, I'll wait to use this bet." I turned my back to him and started in a slow skate towards the exit. "I wouldn't want to waste this win on something stupid."
Aiden mumbled something under his breath, but I was too far away from him to make it out. One thing was for sure. I had succeeded in pissing him off. He was made that he had just been played.
What can I say, Aiden? Karma is a bitch.
--
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