Ice Cold

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞

By the time we all arrive at the rink later that day, I may as well be shitting myself. For the first time in a long time, I have no idea what to expect, which is strange considering Coach usually gives me a run-down of his plans before every practice. This way, I can let the rest of the team know throughout the day, give them something to motivate them. It's a method we've adapted to and used for years, mostly because it works. Stumbling into practices blind as to what we are going to be doing is tough, especially in the evenings after a long day.

"Beckett, you're looking a bit tense. Need a back rub?"

Tyler nudges me as we take our usual route to the changing rooms, his tone teasing. Lucas appears at my side, concealing his smile. I show no reaction, despite the fact that he's right. I hate not being in control, and he knows it. If we end up doing what we all suspect we're doing, it's going to be torture. I literally just put a ban on all figure skaters, and chances are we're going to be spending the next couple of hours with them. For the boys, or at least some of them, it's like placing ice cream in front of them, but not allowing them to eat. Instead, they have to sit and watch it melt. Well, perhaps it could be considered motivation for the game. 

When we all enter the changing rooms, Couch is stood waiting. He actually looks amused for once, and it throws us all off. We glance at each other, and amiss the looks, I catch Cam's gaze, feeling an instant pang of guilt. I feel bad about earlier, but there's nothing I can do about it now. 

"No heavy gear for you ladies today- just sweatpants and shirts."

I blink. No gear? Right before a game? Is he nuts? Not only does our gear protect us from serious injuries, but it is also crucial to wear during practices, because we need to learn to carrying the weight of it. What is Coach playing at? 

"What are you waiting for? Go!"

We all jump to follow his orders, and minutes later we emerge out of the changing rooms and step out onto the ice. Without all my gear, I feel naked, exposed to the cold. Admittedly, it's a lot easier to carry myself across the ice, my usual weight gone. As usual, we line up, myself at the end closest to Coach. Tyler, who is a few players down from me, beside Jackson, glancing up down the line, starts to snicker, mumbling something about us looking like figure skaters. Couch hears, scowls, then begins.

"Well, boys. As you can see, today is no normal practice. Most of you will be aware that, traditionally, practice is switched up before the beginning of a tournament. Today, we will be focusing on your speed, and on your technique. And, to make sure you're all on top of your game, I've requested a little help."

He smirks and turns his head towards the other end of the rink, where we all watch as perhaps five or six girls step onto the ice. They all wear their usual attire- leggings, those figure-hugging jackets, leg warmers. Amongst them, I immediately spot April. What surprises me is that she is at the back of the group, rash of breath and struggling to tug her hair up into a ponytail. She was late. I can't help but wonder why, but am briefly distracted by the reactions of my teammates. All 22 of us have different reactions- some laugh and nudge their friends, others look horrified. Cam just looks straight at Lou, who remains beside April. I swear, those two are so attached at the hip, I would believe it if someone told me they were conjoined. 

Someone clears their throat, and all attention turns away from the girls and to the two new entrees to the ice. I recognise both- one is Lorri, wearing his black figure skates. I'm not surprised he's here, being an Olympic champion and all that. The woman beside him his called Carla. She's got pitch black hair and a total resting bitch face, but she's actually quite nice. She's been couching figure skaters here for years, but she's also an avid hockey fan- she's often seen frequenting our hockey games. Carla glides forward, smiles at her girls, then turns to look at us.

"Hi, team. Gosh, isn't this weird, having us all on the ice? Anyway! My girls are here to help you today- and, before I hear any objections...hockey is about power and speed, but technique is just as important- these girls train for technique. If this session goes well, you'll all be cutting corners and swerving players like it's middle school in tomorrow's game. Now, this is only going to be fun if I get maximum effort. My girls have already agreed to help to the best of their abilities- now, it's up to you boys to bring the energy. What do you say?"

The line erupts to cheers, but I remain silent. What do figure skaters think they can teach us about hockey? 

Lorri steps forward to speak now. 

"Alright..we have six girls and twenty-two boys. Boys- I want four groups of four, three groups of three. You'll have a girl per group. They know what to do, so listen to them. If you don't, we'll be here."

He speaks with a slight warning tone as the six girls move to spread out across the ice. Someone says something, then all hell breaks loose. The team scatters to reach the girl they want, and it seems my ban on figure skaters is forgotten. Cam and Lucas go straight to Lou, and I see April being swarmed by at least ten guys. However, one look from Coach and they split, finding their way to even teams. I find myself joining one of the groups of three, standing with Cam and Lucas. Lou, of course, doesn't look too pleased to see me. I glance back to April, and she's also manning a group of three. Seeing the boys, or rather one boy in particular, my blood boils. Jay stands beside her, alongside Jackson and James. I remind myself to never trust a guy with a 'J' name. Ever. 

"Right. Let's get started, yeah?"

The practice goes surprisingly fast. And what I find even more surprising is that it is actually helpful. Lou is a decent teacher, and, minus a few occasional snaps and myself and Lucas for messing around, we don't do that bad. Lou teaches us the right amount of lean and pressure to apply to our crossovers, and how to watch other players' feet for predictions. Usually, we say that's up to the goalie. However, Lou explains that the feet speak before the stick does, and if we actually look past the puck and at the player, it will be much easier to evade or attack them. After spending some more time on crossovers, sharp turns and glides, Lou says we can take a quick break. When we're skating over to where we've laid out our water bottles, I lean over to speak to Lou. 

"Where'd you learn all this stuff?"

"Mostly April, but Lorri and Carla help too." 

"...April taught you hockey techniques?"

I'm confused now as I reach for my bottle. I glance across to where April is still working with her group. Jay says something, and she laughs. I want to kill him. 

"Yeah."

"How does she know it?"

"She won't tell me."

Every day, I think I'm aware of everything there is to know about April Jones. Then, I learn something new about her, and I have to question every last ounce of knowledge I think I have. She's confusing, complicated and frustrating, because I just can't figure her out. Suddenly, Caral steps forward, smiling as she addresses the entirety of the rink.

"HELLO! Guys, I think it's time for a little bit of friendly competition..."