Novels by Gifty Writes

Elliot's POVI grabbed the metal handle of my locker and pulled it open.My heart instantly dropped right into my stomach.My skates—the only pair I owned, the ones I had spent three years maintaining with cheap sharpener stones—were completely destroyed. The sharp bottoms had been gouged with deep, jagged cuts, deliberately ruined with heavy tools. The edges were bent out of shape, making them entirely useless for the ice."What is this?" I whispered, my voice trembling as I reached down to pull the ruined boots out."What happened?" Austin asked, stepping closer from his locker next to mine. He took one look at the scratched blades and gasped. "Elliot... oh no. Who did this?""Look around, Austin," I said, my teeth grinding together as I slowly turned my head toward the corner of the locker room.Nathaniel Reed was sitting on the wooden bench ten feet away, calmly wrapping tape around his stick. He had a smug, deliberate smile on his face, not even trying to hide his satisfaction."

Elliot's POV"Hold still, Elliot. This is going to sting," Austin said, pressing an antiseptic wipe against my cut lip.I winced, pulling back slightly as the sharp burning sensation shot across my lower jaw. My right shoulder was throbbing with a dull, constant ache from colliding with the glass, but I kept my back straight on the edge of the small dorm bed."You really don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?" Austin sighed, dropping the bloody cotton pad into the trash bin. He pulled up a desk chair and sat across from me, his face tight with genuine concern. "Calling out Nathaniel was risky enough, but talking back to Cruz in front of the whole squad? Are you trying to get kicked off the team on your second day?""Nathaniel threw a hit from behind, Austin," I said, my voice rough. I flexed my shoulder carefully, feeling the tight pull in my muscles. "And Cruz sat there and made excuses for him. Should I have just smiled and thanked them for slamming my face into the glass?

Elliot's POVI pulled my helmet on, snapped the chin strap tight, and stepped out onto the ice. The cold hit my face like an open hand, but my hands were steady."Alright, Hayes! Show us what you were talking about!" Coach Vale called out, leaning over the glass barrier near center ice. "One-on-one drill! Reed on defense, Hayes on the rush! Go!"Nathaniel Reed glided into position at the blue line. He flexed his shoulders, shifting his skates back and forth, trying to look imposing. His expensive helmet gleamed under the overhead lights."You really think you belong on this ice with me, scholarship trash?" Nathaniel sneered as I lined up opposite him. "You got lucky yesterday. Today, I'm taking you off your feet.""Keep talking, Reed," I said, my voice ice-cold. "Let's see if your feet move as fast as your mouth."The whistle blew.I pushed off hard, my secondhand skates digging deep into the ice, building speed in three long, powerful strides. Nathaniel dropped back into his defensiv

Elliot's POVThe wooden bench was freezing under my legs, but the sting inside my chest burned far worse.I sat with my skates resting on the edge of the rubber mats, watching the main squad skate back and forth across the main rink. My stick leaned against my knee, useless. Every single guy out there had top-tier equipment and years of elite training. I had a pair of second-hand skates with worn laces and a scholarship that felt thinner than paper."Keep the speed up on the left wing!" Coach Frederick shouted from near the glass. He leaned against the board, blowing his whistle once before stepping back to let Cruz direct the drill. "Cruz, take over the transition play!"Cruz didn't need to shout to control the ice. He moved with total precision, cutting through the neutral zone like he owned every inch of the rink. Every pass he made was clean, fast, and completely dead-on."Austin, swing wider!" Cruz called out, his sharp voice ringing over the noise of blades grinding against ice.

Elliot's POV"You really don't have to carry that tape-wrapped bag through the main entrance, Elliot," Austin said, jogging to catch up with me near the rink doors. "The guys inside are already looking for any reason to single you out. Giving them secondhand gear to laugh at before you even step on the ice isn't going to help.""Let them look," I said, shifting the strap across my shoulder. "My gear works fine. It got me a scholarship here, didn't it?""Yeah, but a scholarship at Westbridge Academy just means you have a target on your back," Austin sighed, pushing the double doors open. "These guys have grown up in private camps with personal coaches. They look at guys like us—guys on financial aid—like we're taking up space that belongs to their friends.""I'm not here to make friends with them," I said, looking out toward the glass. "I'm here to play.""Just watch your back out there. Especially around the senior guys," Austin warned, heading toward his locker. "They don't like gett