1
ERIK
Have you ever heard of hate at first sight? Like, have you met someone who instantly gets your blood boiling? Okay, maybe hate is a strong word, but I’ll leave blood boiling on the table. That person gets under your skin, and you’d be better off without them. Period. We’ve all had one, right?
For me, that someone was Kayden Preston, also known as God’s gift to hockey. If you asked him, I mean. This story’s a real doozy. Let me tell you how it all went down.
It started on the first day of practice. I’d been in the United States for a week and still lived out of a suitcase. Not that I’d travelled far to reach Buffalo, New York, but you wouldn’t believe the amount of red tape in crossing the border from Canada for a hockey scholarship. I didn’t do anything wrong either. All I did was enter the locker room and do the natural thing I would’ve done back home.
I found the vacant team captain’s locker near the entrance, loaded my gear inside, closed the door, and attached my combination lock. When I turned around, I was immediately confronted by this goon, a guy whose parents obviously hadn’ttaught him the first thing about personal space. He was so totally in my bubble that I could smell his spearmint gum. I noticed his green eyes right away. His chest heaving out of his tight-fitting white shirt nearly brushed against me. The way he parted his dirty-blond hair down the middle made me want to tell him the nineties had called and wanted its hairstyle back.
That wasn’t all. He’d fixed those green eyes on me like the jock version of a death stare. All over nothing. Seriously. No one back home ever did that even if they’d had a reason. And anyway, I wouldn’t sweat guys like that.
“Jeez, man, can you get any closer?” I asked.
“Dude, what do you think you’re doing?”
His voice sounded steady, controlled, but I still detected brewing hostility that threatened to boil over.
I paused, trying to register the exact brand of stupid he’d meant to push on me. When I couldn’t figure it out, I stood up straight and waited for him to fill me in.
“Trouble speaking?” he asked. “I asked you what you think you’re doing.”
“Putting stuff in my locker. What does it look like?”
He sputtered, suppressed a laugh, and glanced around the locker room to see who else might’ve shared his amusement.
Everyone went about their business. Big surprise.
“You know whose locker this is, right?” He pointed to the sign above the locker that read ‘CAPTAIN’. To him, it might as well have read ‘PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES’.
“Yes, sir. I sure do.”
“You’ve got the wrong locker, bud.I’mthe captain.”
He pointed to his chest as if his status was the most obvious thing on earth. Seriously. You should’ve seen the stupid, cocky look on his face. He really believed what he was saying. I secretly wanted to fish my phone out of my pocket and snap a picture to give you a better idea, but this description will have to do.
“I don’t know who died and madeyoucaptain,” I said, “butI’mteam captain. And I’ve already put things away in the locker. And I’ve got places to be. So, if you don’t mind . . . ”
I flitted a hand at him in a flimsy gesture to shoo him away, even if he didn’t budge. I really meant to leave it at that. Why wouldn’t I? For one thing, I didn’t know who this kid was from Adam, and he thought he could march into the locker room and boss me around. It doesn’t work that way. Sorry.
Also, I know how guys like him operate. I’ve seen his type around for years. The best thing you can do with these dudes is to refuse to feed them. They have egos the size of Toronto. When you take them seriously, you fuel their ego, until it balloons to the size of an entire province. The smartest move is to cut off their energy supply—which was exactly what I did with him.
When I proceeded to the locker room door, he blocked me. I tried stepping past him, but he slipped in front of me again. Obviously, he wouldn’t let this conversation die until he said it could. Think of it as the gospel according to Kayden Preston.
Again, no sweat.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“Yeah, class.”
“Not until you’ve answered me. Why do you think you’re the team captain?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Whywouldn’tyou be? What kind of stupid answer is that?”
“I don’t think it’s a stupid answer at all. I was always the team captain back home. It’s a natural role for me.”
