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Chapter 1

Alex

Flexingpop but there’s no pain That’s either because there truly is no pain or I’ve blocked it out Regardless, I push back from the boards, even as that douche Talbot tries to push s and we scrabble to kick it loose

There’s less than forty seconds left in the gah I have no desire for the spotlight that will cooal, it’s absolutely preferable than being stuck in overtiame to be over

Giving a particularly hard push back, I’m able to free my stick fro on hoh, North Carolina, and I know its speed and consistency like the back ofbut a short tap on the puck and it shoots back between both of our legs I juke left and when I feel Talbot follow, I spin back right to skate around hi the puck just as it clears his blades, and take off for the goal

One of my natural talents is to freeze-frame the entire ice in my mind, analyze my best course of action and duuy with the best scoring chance on our team But noith only thirty-five seconds left in the period—and yes, I saw the clock winding down in my freeze-frame—I don’t want to leave it up to one of my teammates to seal the deal I fake a pass to the nearside, then slip a quick wrist shot toward the goal, watching as it sails cleanly into the net, just between the upper post and the goalie’s left shoulder

Way too fking easy!

The red light behind the net burns bright and the arena erupts, nineteen thousand fans rocketing to their feet to scream in rapture that Alexander Crossame Of course, there’s still thirty-one seconds left for my team to screw the pooch

My tea toward oal I make a half-assed attempt to look pleased with myself, which basically means I let s with their sticks But that’s about as excited as I get when I score a goal

I hate this fking shit…the adulation, the liht…all of it

Skating back to the bench, I step up through the open gate and take a seat Sorats and a few nod at uy by most

Grabbing the water bottle, I squirt a bit in oes crazy again, their cheers rising in crescendo as the replay of lance up at it,It’s a pretty sweet play and I totally smoked Talbot, but as I watch it I knoithout a doubtto criticize It’s physically i but

The announcer’s voice cooal, scored by Number Sixty-Seven, Alexander Crossman, unassisted…

And the crowd erupts intoout the stats as they are relayed I do a quick glance around the arena, knowing that the fans are happy as shit I just scored the game winner but also very n across the ice proclai, Crossman for MVP, Most Valuable Prick

Classic! I’ive a fk

I coet my assists, collect my paycheck and past that, just leave me the fk alone

If only life were that simple

For the reame, I don’t even watch the action on the ice I sit on the bench and leanthe tiht

“Crossman…in my office before you leave,” I hear Dan Pretore call out He’s the head coach for the Cold Fury, and while he’s probably one of the best coaches I’ve ever played under, he’s a hard-ass as well I knoithout a doubt, that even with two goals and three assists on the night, I’et my ass handed to me

Slipping onandarea under the arena None of ratulate ood, because I won’t respond So reflective, but the ones who have been here awhile know it’s because I’ardless of whether in or lose In fact, the better I do, the crustier I becoet…that’s soist would have a field day with me

I rap my knuckles softly on the coach’s door, and he immediately calls out for me to enter I don’t close the door behind me, only because I could care less if anyone hearsa seat across from his desk, I casually prop an ankle over my knee and look around his office with no real interest It’s a mess…piles of papers, binders and fast-food wrappers litter his desk He has several fra up against the wall I’ve been with the Carolina Cold Fury for almost six years now, and his office looks the sa with hio

“Great ga up fro on when I entered “Your plus- the league right now ”

I stare at hi no “thank you” for the praise I don’t need it or want it and statistics never meant much to me Kind of like all those awards Coach has on his floor…don’tskills for what they are, not what other people say about them

He waits for ets nothing, so he sighs and continues on

“That little stunt at the end of the game was uncalled for,” he tells me

He’s referring to the fact that I was naao by what soato co lap around the ice The fans’ boos followed me all the way back

“Sorry…had an upset stomach…diarrhea Had to hit the can,” I tell hih he knows I’h my teeth

Pretore leans forward across his desk, flashing his teeth atstupid, Crossman? You thumbed your nose at the crowd and this tea you a thousand dollars for that stunt ”

I pick an iinary piece of lint offelse?”