Carter is looking at me as if I just sprouted antlers out of my head. "No, seriously...what did you really do?"
I just shook my head and picked up my shoulder pads, strapping them into place. "Forget it, Carter. I just don't think you'd understand."
He is literally scratching his head in consternation as he walks away. I turn to look at Mike. "Was my date last night really that weird?"
Mike stands up and slaps me on the shoulder. "Yup. It was weird. But it was also amazing, and that's all that matters. I'm happy for you, man."
I punch him lightly in the chest. "Thanks, bro."
***
Practice is almost over and we are doing a light scrimmage right now. I'm the center on the first line and I've been playing f**king fantastic today. I'm on a breakaway right now, having just received the puck from a brilliant pass by Mike. I'm streaking down the right side, and Mike is mirroring me on the left. There's only one defenseman between us and the goalie. I make a quick pass over to Mike. Just as the defensemen commits to Mike, he flips the puck back to me and I wind up for a slap shot, aiming for the five-hole. Just as I'm bringing my stick down toward the ice, I see the blade of another stick poke between my legs and hook over the front of my left skate. It's jerked backward, along with my foot and I go crashing face first into the ice. I'm moving so fast the momentum slides me head first into the boards. Thankfully, I'm able to tuck my head and catch the boards with my shoulder instead.
The coach blows the whistle and I hear Mike bellow, "What the f**k, Malone?"
I didn't need to hear Mike yell that to know it was Reece Malone who had pulled me down. He is a loser and I don't understand why Coach keeps him on the team. He’s bitter that his talent will never get him higher than our fourth line and he begrudges success to anyone else. Even if that means our team takes a loss. He is poison to our morale.
I jump up from the ice and take off toward Malone. I'm going to kick his ass. I hear the coach frantically blowing the whistle and my teammates rush in to separate us before we can even connect.
"You try that shit again, Reece and I will tear your f**king head off, you hear me?"
I am pissed and if I didn't have three of my teammates holding me back, I probably would have killed him. Reece just smirks at me. He shakes off the hands holding him and skates off the ice.
Coach wisely calls an end to practice and we all head to the locker room. As I walk in, I move past Malone who is standing in front of his locker and try to ignore him.
"Hey, Burnham. I heard you went slumming last night and banged some grease whore from Sally's."
I vaguely hear Mike say, "Oh f**k" but then all I hear after is the sound of my fist hitting Malone's face. I get in at least four good hits, all to the left side of his temple and jaw, before Carter and Mike are pulling me off. No one needed to hold Malone back because my hits were vicious and fueled by an inferno of rage. He is on the floor, blood running down his face from an open cut, and he won't be getting up anytime soon.
Mike is pulling me backward and tells me to calm down. I shake him off of me viciously. "Get the f**k off me, Mike. I'm fine."
He pulls his arms back and holds them up in surrender. He looks at me apprehensively.
I turn my back on him and stalk over to my locker. Coach comes up to me and gives me a dressing down. He tells me to get my ass in gear or else I can kiss my Captaincy goodbye. My only consolation is that Malone needs five stitches in his head.
***
By the time Mike and I make it to the dining hall, I've calmed somewhat but my stomach is in knots. I was beyond furious when Malone called Danny a whore. I try to imagine what she would have felt like if she had heard that. And now I'm afraid that Danny will be facing an endless stream of spitefulness from my crowd just because of her lot in life.
I grab a tray of food, not really paying attention to what I'm choosing. Mike and I find an empty table and sit down.
"You okay, man?" Mike's eyes are filled with concern.
"Sure."
"What’s up with Malone? It's like his attitude is getting worse. I don't understand why Coach doesn't kick him off the team."
I shake my head. I don't get it either. But if Malone is going to tear our team apart, we can kiss any chance of a winning season goodbye. I eat in silence, mulling everything over.
"Hey, Ryan. You know what Malone said about Danny is just words, right? They shouldn't mean anything to you."
He's trying to comfort and reassure me, and I get that. But a dark feeling is taking root in my mind. I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I don't know if I can handle the inevitable fallout that is going to come by forging a relationship with Danny.
"This is a bad idea...to get involved with her, isn't it?"
Mike shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe not."
"You said it yourself. My parents will never accept her because she looks different and isn’t in our social haven. Our crowd has their heads so far up their asses, they believe because she works in a diner that she's a whore. Tell me how this can work?"
I feel like I'm almost pleading with him to give me the right answer.
Mike puts down his sandwich and leans forward. "Tell me, Ryan...do you care what she looks like?"
"No, although I think she's freakin' gorgeous."
"So, her purple hair and nose ring and...whatever that is in her eyebrow...that doesn't bother you?"