Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
She holds her hand over her heart in awe of what Jamie’s telling her. “Really? That’s so cute. Your dad sounds like a keeper.”
“My mom thinks so,” Jamie jokes.
“Jamie is a genius,” I tell Shannon, and her smile widens. “A total nerd.”
I give Jamie a hard time about being a nerd all the time. He’s just like his dad—obsessed with computers, comic books, video games, and Star Trek. They even have the same name and similar features. But all the nerd jokes go out the window once we’re on the ice.
Jamie and I are both defensemen. We’ve been paired together for years, meaning we work in unison to stop the opposing team from scoring and create new opportunities for our team.
“I like nerds.” Shannon scoots her chair closer to Jamie’s, their elbows touching on the table. “Especially hot ones that can shoot a puck.” Her eyes are so wide and green they stand out against her soft features.
Jamie is getting laid tonight. No doubt about it. This girl is practically on her knees, ready and waiting. Her hand is under the table—maybe he’s already getting some action. Shannon is impressed with Jamie’s background. I guess there’s a first time for everything. In my experience, girls don’t have a clue about video games. Most of them only care about our trust funds.
Jamie hooks his arm around her back pulling her into his chest. He plants a kiss on her lips that turns into them going at it in front of us. Everyone at the table is used to women asking about our parents. Apart from Jamie, all of our dads are former NHL hockey players. Everyone on campus knows it. We don’t keep it a secret, though we don’t openly advertise it either.
Drake’s mom is a famous romance author. She writes super taboo and dirty books that even make Drake blush. A lot of girls have the same reaction as Shannon when he tells them his mom is the Sydney Carroway. Tucker and Trent’s mom owns Sports Buzz, an online newspaper all of us read. It’s similar to SBNation. And with my mom being a legendary sports agent—the more I think about it—we have pretty awesome parents. We lucked out big time.
“You ready for the game?” Tucker asks me, ignoring Jamie and Shannon, who are now leaving the dining room with Shannon draped over Jamie’s shoulder and him smacking her ass.
This is normal for us. We’re so used to each other that none of us care about who’s hooking up where. Even the dining room isn’t sacred. Every inch of this house has been christened by one of us.
“Yeah, I guess,” I say. “I think this is going to be my best year.”
“Best year for the team, too.” Trent sinks his teeth into a slice of garlic bread speaking between bites. “We’re winning again this year.”
Our team made it to the Frozen Four the last three years, but we’ve only won the NCAA Men’s Ice Hockey Championship once. All of us want it. Bad. One final win before we leave college for the NHL.
“I wish the announcers would stop comparing us to your dads,” Tucker says.
“Oh, I know,” I say. “Like I need a fucking reminder of the ghost of Alex Parker.”
“It pisses me off.” Drake shakes his head. “My dad’s been retired for years.”
I grunt in acknowledgment. “Trying to live up to the legacy of Alex Parker ain’t easy.”
Tucker and Trent nod.
“These asshole announcers expect us to be them…” Tucker says, “… when all we’re trying to do is play as hard as we can to get NHL scouts to notice us. Sometimes, I feel like I’m living in the shadow of Tyler Kane. Our dad…” he says, pointing at Trent, “… retired over ten years ago. Get over him already.”
Tyler Kane is still part of the Philadelphia Flyers organization. He’s the general manager, and my dad is now the coach. Because of that, it only draws more attention to us.
“Right,” Drake says. “It’s fucking bullshit. My dad’s shutout against the Blackhawks in game seven has been in highlight reels since I was a kid.”
“They won the Cup, though,” Tucker says. “That game was pretty sick.”
The only people who understand what I go through are seated next to me at this table. We were bred to become hockey players, but expectations are a bitch. Measuring up to not only our father’s impossible standards, but also those in the hockey world, is no easy task.
We were born to do this. Hockey is in our DNA. So, why does it sometimes feel like we can never surpass the players who came before us?
“Suck it, troll,” I yell at the TV, beating the magician, who kind of looks like a troll in Mage Wars.
With Jamie and Shannon fucking on the other side of the wall, I need a distraction. They’re louder than the sound effects the game makes when you find the hidden mage. But once I reach the dark tower, I have to answer a question. If I get it wrong, I have to start the level over.