A Mission.

Chapter 4

Brent’s POV

“I didn’t sign these.” The words came out louder than I intended.

Coach Jake didn’t flinch.

“I know.”

“No, Coach, you don’t understand.” I pointed at the papers. “I’ve never even seen these before. So how the hell do they have my name, my student number… even my signature?”

He looked down at the documents before folding his arms. “That’s the part that concerns me.”

“What does that even mean?” I stared at him.

“It means whoever submitted them knew enough about you to make them believable.”

My stomach tightened.This wasn’t some stupid prank. Whoever did this knew about my university records. My hockey registration. Everything.

I swallowed. “So… what happens now?”

“For now?” He met my eyes. “Nothing.” Coach slid the papers back into the envelope.

“Nothing?” I blinked.

“Don’t be afraid, I’ve already contacted Student Affairs.”

“So they know they’re fake?” I asked with a bit of hope still flickering inside me.

“No,” he replied.

And there went the hope.

“They know someone submitted them.” He tapped the envelope once. “They just don’t know who.”

I rubbed both hands over my face before remembering one of them was swollen. Perfect.

“So somebody wakes up one morning, decides to ruin my life, and nobody knows who it is?”

Coach stayed quiet for a few seconds.Then he sighed.

“Brent.”

“Yeah?”

“Until we know what’s happening, I don’t want anyone hearing about these papers.”

“You mean the team?”

He nodded.“The team. The committee. Everybody.”

That word landed like another punch. If the Regional Committee believed I wasn’t an eligible student, I wouldn’t be allowed to play. And no game means no tournament, no scouts.

No future in hockey.

My eyes drifted towards the words written across the whiteboard.

WINNER TAKES ALL.

Five minutes ago those words looked like an opportunity. Now they were no different from a threat.

“I’m going to fight this.” Coach picked up the envelope.

“You believe me?” I looked at him.

He frowned like I’d just insulted him. “I’ve coached you for three years,” he stepped closer. “And you think I’d mistake you for someone who quits?”

Something tightened inside my chest. Not relief, just something quieter and glad…that maybe I wasn’t going to be fighting this all alone.

“Alright kiddo,” Coach nodded toward the door. “Come on.”

“To where?”

“Practice of course,” coach raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

“…Seriously?” I frowned.

“As far as everyone outside this office knows,” he opened the door. “Nothing has changed.”

I started walking before he stopped me again.

“And one more thing Brent.”

I looked back.

“If anybody asks…” The corner of his mouth twitched. “You overslept.”

I laughed despite myself. “That’s my official excuse?”

“It’s more believable than tax fraud.”

I shook my head. “I walked into that one.”

“You usually do.”

He gave my shoulder a light pat before heading toward the rink. Halfway there, he spoke again.

“I need you focused.”

“I am.”

“No.”

I looked over at him.

“Brent, I need you angry at the right people.”

I frowned. “What does that mean?”

Coach didn’t answer, he simply just pushed open the rink doors.I stepped inside and stopped dead in my tracks.

The White Scorpions weren’t warming up.

Every single player stood lined up on the ice in full gear, helmets tucked beneath their arms like they were waiting for someone or something.

Michael spotted me first. “There he is!” Every head turned as he walked towards me.

“Oh, don’t do that,” I muttered. “I’ve already had one interrogation today.”

Coach Jake walked past me without another word. “Get your gear on, Lennox.”

With the way everything was going, something told me my day was only getting started. And oh boy was I right.

Five minutes later, I skated onto the ice beside the rest of the team. Coach Jake blew one sharp whistle.

“Eyes up.”

The chatter disappeared instantly. He stood at center ice with his hands clasped behind his back.

“I’ve got good news.”

Michael’s hand shot into the air. “We’re cancelling conditioning?”

“No.”

“Free food?”

“No.”

“Extra sleep?”

Coach Jake stared at him. “You enjoy disappointing yourself.”

A few players laughed.

Coach finally looked around at all of us.

“We officially qualified for this year’s Regional Championship.”

For one heartbeat, nobody moved, then the entire rink erupted. Players shouted as someone threw a glove in the air while another slammed his stick against the boards.

Michael grabbed both my shoulders and shook me. “WE’RE GOING TO REGIONALS!”

“I noticed.”

“I’M GONNA BE FAMOUS!”

“Highly unlikely,” I replied dryly.

Coach let the celebration continue for a few seconds before blowing another whistle. One blast and the silence returned.

“Unfortunately…” The excitement faded upon that word.

“…that’s not the only reason you’re here.”

As if the universe had rehearsed the timing, the arena doors rumbled open and every head turned towards the sound. The sounds of skates and team chants reached us before we even got a sight of the players.

One by one, a group of guys in black jerseys glided onto the ice in perfect formation. Right in front of them was coach Allen , and right behind him was…

Maddox.

He looked like last night had never happened to him. His lip was still bruised but it was nothing compared to my injury.

His eyes found mine almost immediately and neither of us looked away.

Michael leaned toward me.

“…Well.”

“What?”

“You both still look pissed.”

“I am.”

“I know.”

Coach Allen stopped a few feet from Coach Jake. For a long second, neither of them spoke.

Then Allen smiled. “You’ve gotten older.”

“So have you.” Jake looked him over.

“I hear retirement suits you.”

Coach Jake let out a dry laugh. “I hear cheating still suits you.”

The rink went quiet.

Allen’s smile barely shifted. “You still holding on to that?”

“You cost me my career.”

“You cost yourself.”

Nobody moved. The tension between them felt older than anyone standing on the ice.

Michael leaned closer.

“…Okay.”

“What?”

“I take back the divorce joke.”

I sighed. “Michael.”

“They’re way past divorce.”

Even I almost smiled. Before either coach spoke again, another set of doors opened.

A tall man wearing a navy university blazer stepped onto the ice with a clipboard tucked beneath one arm. Every player instinctively straightened.

Coach Jake muttered under his breath. “Right on time.”

The man stopped between both teams.

“Congratulations, gentlemen.” He smiled. “You represent the only two universities selected for this year’s Regional Hockey Championship.”

Another wave of cheers broke out. Michael pointed at himself.

“I… Michael… a regional athlete.”

I nudged him with my elbow. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late.”

The Athletic Director glanced down at his clipboard. “As most of you know, the auxiliary rink is currently under renovation.”

Several players nodded.

“Unfortunately, construction is running behind schedule.”

Coach Allen closed his eyes as CoachJake pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Which means…” The director looked up. “until renovations are complete, both teams will train here.”

Everyone went silent then someone behind me spoke.

“… Excuse me?.”

“Is that a joke?” Another player laughed nervously.

“I’m afraid not.” The director smiled politely. “A shared practice schedule has already been prepared.”

He handed one copy to Coach Jake.Another to Coach Allen.

“You’ll alternate drills and share ice time until further notice.”

Michael looked physically offended. “I’d rather eat my own skate.”

A few players laughed.Even several Black Eagles failed to hide their smiles.

Coach Jake scanned the schedule as his jaw tightened while Coach Allen folded his neatly.

“My players won’t have a problem.”

Jake looked up.

“I’m sure they won’t.”

The Athletic Director, blissfully unaware of the cold war happening in front of him, smiled once more.

“Alright then…I’ll leave you gentlemen to get acquainted.” He turned and walked off the ice.

The moment the doors shut behind him, the arena exploded into a frenzy. There were complaints, arguments and every sort of emotion happening across the rink. Even Michael looked personally offended.

“I refuse.”

I glanced at him.

“You refuse what?”

“Everything.”

I laughed. “Helpful.”

“I have standards.”

“You ate cold pizza off the locker room floor last month.”

“That pizza had character.”

“It had mold.”

He opened his mouth to argue before thinking better of it. “…Fair.”

Coach Jake blew his whistle.

“Enough.”

The conversations died down.

“We’ll deal with the new schedule tomorrow.”

A few groans echoed across the rink.

“For today, practice is over.”

That earned a much happier reaction. Players started skating toward the benches, peeling off gloves and helmets.

I turned toward our side of the rink. In the midst of the whole chaos, Maddox was still looking at me. Everyone around him was talking while he simply just stood there with his stick resting against one shoulder, looking straight at me like he had all the time in the world.

Micheal noticed and couldn’t wait to throw in his comment.

“…Seriously?”

“What?”

“You two keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“The staring.”

“We’re not staring.”

“You’ve been making eye contact long enough to file taxes together.”

I snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’ve accepted that.”

I grabbed my helmet and started toward the exit.

Halfway there, someone stepped into my path. Black jersey, number eleven.

It was Maddox.

Michael looked between us.

“…Welp.” Without another word, he backed away.

“Good luck.”

Traitor.

I looked at Maddox.

“What?”

His eyes dropped briefly to my bruised knuckles.

“You punch mirrors now?”

I looked down at his split lip.

“You kiss walls?”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“So you did hit me.”

“I was aiming for your ego.”

“You missed.”

“Barely.”

For a second, neither of us spoke and thenoise around us slowly faded into the background.

He looked different up close. His lip was swollen. Mine probably looked worse.

He tilted his head slightly. “You look tired.”

“I slept just great.”

“Liar.” He scoffed.

“You sound disappointed.”

“I expected more.”

I frowned.

“From what?”

“That punch.”

I barked out a laugh.“You want a rematch?”

His eyes held mine. “…Maybe.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach tighten. Not because I was scared, because he didn’t sound angry.

He sounded interested and I hated that.

Coach Allen’s voice echoed across the rink.

“Maddox.”

He didn’t look away. Not immediately. Then he pushed off the ice.

As he passed me, he slowed just enough for only me to hear.

“Don’t lose before I get the chance to beat you.”

He skated away without waiting for an answer.

I watched him disappear toward the Black Eagles’ locker room.Michael reappeared beside me almost instantly.

“…So.”

“So what?”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You should.”

He grinned.

“I no longer think you two want to kill each other.”

I sighed. “Michael…”

“I think killing each other is foreplay.”

I nearly dropped my helmet. “What is wrong with you?”

“A lot.”

“I noticed.”

He laughed as we walked toward our locker room.I glanced back one last time. The Black Eagles were disappearing through their tunnel and Maddox never looked back.

Good.

Because neither would I.

…At least that’s what I told myself.