Chapter 2 Brent’s POV

Chapter 2.

Brent’s POV

If there’s one thing I’ve envied about Maddox since we were kids, it’s his ability to stick to every word he says.

A week later at home, and he was already making noticeable moves that could result in one of us actually ripping ourselves apart.

But first off, let’s head back to the rink.

******

Hockey in Frostbridge has always been predictable.

The ice was cold, Coach Jake yelled way too much, Michael always showed up where he wasn’t supposed to, and if I worked hard enough, I usually won.

But life, unfortunately, had never played by the same rules.

Coach Jake’s whistle sliced through the rink, sharp enough to snap me out of my thoughts before another puck skimmed past my skate.

“Eyes up, Lennox!” he called.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” I called back, already shifting my weight.

I held onto the pass against my stick and fired before the goalie had time to react.

The puck shot itself neatly into the top corner of the net.

The satisfying clang of metal echoed across the rink, followed by a chorus of disappointed groans from the freshmen lined up behind me.

Coach Jake lowered his whistle and pointed toward the goal.

“Stop staring at Brent’s shot, you wimp,” he barked.

“Pay attention to how he got there. Goals aren’t luck. They’re repetition.”

The boys straightened immediately.

I skated past them, slowing when I noticed one of the younger players hanging back. His shoulders were slumped, and he kept staring at the ice beneath his skates like it had personally betrayed him.

I wasn’t supposed to care, but I had to be an adult, I guess.

“Everything okay?” I asked, gliding to a stop beside him.

He looked up, startled that I’d noticed.

“I keep messing up the drill.”

“So?”

He frowned.

“So… Coach’s gonna think I suck.”

A laugh left me before I could stop it.

“Trust me, Coach already thinks all of us suck.”

The freshman blinked before letting out a small laugh.

I rested my stick against my shoulder.

“How many times did you fall when you first learned how to skate?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

“A lot?”

“…Yeah… I guess.”

“And you still got back up.”

He nodded.

“So what’s one bad practice going to change?”

The frustration on his face eased, replaced by something closer to determination.

“I guess… nothing.”

“Exactly.”

Coach Jake blew his whistle again. “Captain! Stop giving therapy sessions and let the kid suffer like the rest of us.”

The entire team laughed.

I shook my head, still smiling. Typical Coach.

“You hear that?” I told the freshman. “He’s in a good mood today.”

Coach snorted.

“Keep talking and you’ll both be skating suicides.”

The boy hurried away, trying not to smile. Watching him leave reminded me why I loved this sport.

Nobody started out great. You have to earn every inch. Every scar, every victory.

The ice never handed out second chances. It rewarded the people stubborn enough to keep showing up.

“Practice is over!” Coach shouted. “Hit the showers before I remember conditioning exists.”

Relieved cheers bounced around the rink as everyone hurried toward the locker room. I had barely stepped through the doors when they burst open again.

“Attention, victims!”

“Here we go again,” someone muttered.

Of course Michael always had to make an entrance.

Every head turned. He stood in the doorway with two paper bags from Joe’s Diner, breathing hard as though he’d sprinted across campus.

“I have suffered a terrible injustice,” he said, clutching his chest like he’d had his heart ripped out.

No one answered.

He looked around in disbelief. “Seriously? Not one person wants to know what happened?”

One of the defensemen sighed dramatically. “What happened, Michael?”

Michael lifted an empty fries carton with both hands.“My fries.” He paused for effect.

“Were stolen.”

Silence.

Coach Jake stared at him. “Boy, you don’t even play for my team.”

“I know.”

“So why the hell are you in my locker room?”

Michael looked around as if he’d only just realized where he was. “…You know what, Coach? That’s a pretty fair question.”

Laughter erupted throughout the room. Even Coach Jake struggled to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Out.”

“But I haven’t finished my investigation.”

“OUT!!!”

Michael pointed accusingly at every player within reach. “One of you is the criminal.”

“I’ll confess,” one of the seniors said. “I stole them because you wouldn’t stop talking.”

Michael gasped. “I knew the betrayal would come from within.”

He turned toward me the moment he spotted me unlacing my skates, but Coach was already herding him toward the door. I just shook my head and finished packing up.

By the time I made it out to the parking lot, Michael was already leaning against my car like he owned it, munching on a burger like the man had never seen food before in his life.

Who on earth even eats a burger immediately after practice.

“I heard your brother’s back in town,” Michael said around a mouthful.

I unlocked the car and tossed my bag in the back, trying not to sound like I was interested in the conversation.

“You heard from where?”

“I didn’t hear actually. I might’ve viewed his story? I’m sorry though. I know that’s kinda like cheating on you.”

“Relax, Mike. You’re making it sound like we’re dating.”

“I know, I know. But don’t you kinda wish that we were dating though, eh?” He smiled, giving me the most hideous wink his face could manage to make.

“Not in a million years, Mike,” I chuckled.

Michael laughed, then turned to me looking serious.

“Look, Brent. I know he did some shit to hurt you when you were little, but that was child’s play. You guys are grown up now. You might as well act like actual siblings. Except if you guys wanna fuck,” he added, shrugging as if that was a normal thing to say.

“I appreciate the Ted talk, Michael, but that’s an absolutely fucked up shit to say. But yeah, maybe you’re right. I’d try speaking with him.”

“See, Brent? Who’s a good boy?” He said, patting my shoulder.

“Come off that bs, bro.” I smacked his hand away.

“But honestly, Brent, you know one thing I’d do is spit the truth. Your step bro is pretty hot. If you guys settle, you might as well give him my number and show him my pictures. The cute ones of course.”

“I don’t even have your pictures, bruh. The fuck?,” I chuckled as I opened my car door.

“You liar. Swear you don’t goon to me.”

“Ok, you’re getting a bit comfortable.”

“Anyways, see ya, loser.” He said and ran off.

I turned on my engine and tried preparing my speech for the brother get-together shit I was about to do.

But if I had known, I’d have been preparing for a fight instead.

Cause I should’ve known that Maddox was once a bitch…, and would forever be one.