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My heart is thumping in my chest.

My palms are clammy.

And I’m sweating like a whore in church.

Today is the day.

I did my best to stuff the sweet gift and letter from Jayden in the corner of my mind. But when he came on the ice, looking all hot and big, taking up all the air in the rink with that unstoppable grin of his, everything inside me went to mush. I just don’t understand this pull he has on me. The easy way he has of making me turn into a complete idiot. It’s insane, but then I remember what I want, so I smack myself mentally and tell myself that we mean business.

Today is the day I get captain.

No, if, ands, or buts about it! It’s mine.

When he skates up beside me, he’s closer than normal, and I try to step to my right. But McCarthy is there, so I stay where I am. I’d rather deal with the heat Jayden causes then the ice-cold chills McCarthy causes. He is trouble. And not the good kind.

“Hey.”

Not looking at Jayden, I say, “Hey.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Just fine,” I say sharply.

I can feel his gaze on me, but I ignore it. I can’t let him know that he is making me feel shit. Stupid little rainbow feelings that I shouldn’t be feeling.

Dumb boy.

“Aw, are you doing that thing where you act like I don’t exist?”

I am, but I w

on’t tell him that because then he’ll know he is getting to me.

I shrug. “I’m focused. Got to get my position today.”

He scoffs, which only makes me glare. “You’re something, man. The least you can do is say thank you or that you’re sorry for puking on me.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I ignore him as my dad starts to talk.

“I’ve pushed and stressed how important endurance is. We’ve run, we’ve done drills, and I think everyone has puked but Sinclair.”

“Iron stomach,” he says, and Dad grins while everyone chuckles, but I glare more.

I’ve thrown up twice during damn camp.

“That being said, today is the ultimate test,” Coach says before dropping the stool he’s holding and laying down his iPad. “We will skate until you can’t skate anymore. When I was in Game Three of the Cup finals, we went to four overtimes. That’s one hundred and forty minutes of play. I puked God knows how many times in a trainer’s hands and all behind the bench. I was dead, I was done for, but I went out every shift and I worked my ass off, and I scored the game-winning goal that game. Which was the start of our comeback.”

He pauses and lets that sink in. My whole life when I feel like I’m gonna fail or that I am done for, I always think of that story. My dad is pretty inspirational, and if he can do it, I can.

“Drive. Persistence. Determination. Tenacity. Those are just some of the things you need to win, but most of all, you need endurance. You can’t gas out after five minutes, and if you do, you’re done here,” he says in a strong and steady voice. “I have to cut some of you, and I have to pick our captains. Show me you deserve the spot you want, and if you are the first eight off my ice, go straight to the locker room and leave. You’re done.”

Everyone looks around, and I can see the fear in some of their eyes. I have a pretty good feeling which eight are out, but you never know. They could have more drive than someone else and last. We will see.

“Except for my goalies, the ninth one off is the third string and so on. Show me you want it, boys and Moore. Otherwise, stop wasting my time. I hope you boys ate your Wheaties because it’s time.”


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