Chapter 3 — The Captain Everyone Worships

POV: Lucas Hale

I slammed my stick hard against the ice, calling for the puck as I crossed the blue line, and when my teammate passed it to me, I took a sharp wrist shot that flew right past the goalie into the top corner of the net to win the practice game.

The horn went off over the rink, and the crowd of students watching from the stands started cheering and chanting my name, while the rest of the team ran over to hit my pads and jump on my back.

"That was an incredible shot, captain," my teammate Mark said, breathing hard as we skated off toward the bench, "you make every single play look easy out there."

"Just make sure you cover the open side next time, Mark," I told him, grabbing my water bottle from the rack, "the scouts are coming to watch us next week, so we can't afford any mistakes."

"Are you coming to the team party at the hockey house tonight, Lucas?" another player asked while we were taking off our gear in the locker room, "everyone is going, and the whole school wants to celebrate the win."

"I can't make it tonight, guys," I said, putting my jersey into my bag and pulling on my jacket, "I have to handle some stuff at home."

"You never come out with us anymore," Mark said, leaning against the lockers, "you work harder than anyone else, but you act like a ghost as soon as practice ends."

"I just have responsibilities," I answered, zipping up my bag and heading out the back door toward my truck before anyone could ask me more questions.

I drove straight across town to the small house I rented near the edge of the woods, unlocking the front door quickly because I knew twelve-year-old Emma was waiting for me inside.

"Lucas, you're finally home," Emma said, running out of the kitchen as soon as I walked in, "did you bring the food?"

"I brought the food, kid," I said, putting the box down on the table and grabbing the stack of unopened mail sitting near the sink, "did anyone call the house while I was at the arena?"

"Yeah, a woman called twice," Emma said, sitting down to eat, "she said she is from the state child services office, and she needs to speak with you about our situation."

"Don't worry about her," I told her, sitting down across from her and opening my phone to log into my bank account, "I just transferred my scholarship money to cover the rent and the power bill, so everything is taken care of."

My phone started ringing right on cue, displaying an unknown government number on the screen, so I took a breath, cleared my throat, and answered it right away.

"Hello, this is Lucas Hale," I said, keeping my voice steady and calm.

"Mr. Hale, this is Sarah from Child Protective Services," the woman said, "we are reviewing Emma's living arrangements after the accident, and we need to confirm that you have a steady income and a full-time legal guardian living in the house with you."

"My father is currently out of town on business, but he lives here full-time, and my athletic scholarship covers all our household expenses without any issues," I lied without hesitation, knowing that if they found out my father had abandoned us and I was taking care of Emma all by myself at eighteen, they would take her away and put her in a foster home immediately.

"Very well, we will verify your academic standing with Northcrest Academy tomorrow," she said, "if everything checks out, we will keep the case on hold."

"Thank you, ma'am, everything is completely fine here," I replied, hanging up the phone and setting it on the table while Emma looked at me with worried eyes.

"Are they going to make me leave?" Emma asked, dropping her food back onto her plate.

"Nobody is taking you anywhere, Emma," I said, looking her in the eyes, "as long as I keep playing hockey and keep my scholarship, we get to stay together."

The next morning, I walked into the main administrative building and headed straight to the principal's office, holding my weekly training sheet in my hand so I could get my arena access approved.

"Come in, Lucas," Principal Davis said, gesturing toward the seat across from his desk, "I wanted to talk to you about the ice rink schedule for this semester."

"Is there a problem with my practice times, sir?" I asked, sitting down in the chair, "I usually lock up the facility and manage the equipment room by myself after hours."

"There is no problem, but the school is assigning a new work-study student to share the duties with you," Principal Davis explained, leaning back in his seat, "she needs the hours to maintain her funding, so you will need to give her a set of keys and split the daily workload."

"I don't really need help down there, sir," I said, because adding another person to my schedule meant less time to handle my business at home, "I can manage the rink alone like I always do."

"It's already decided, Lucas," the principal said, waving his hand to end the discussion, "she is checking in right now, so you two can coordinate the schedule together."

The office door opened behind me, and a girl walked in slowly, holding a stack of forms against her chest while keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

She was wearing a plain jacket and basic jeans, clearly trying her best to avoid getting noticed by anyone in the room, but when she stepped up to the desk to hand over her slip, she lifted her face for a brief second.

She had a small scar near her eyebrow, but even with her simple clothes and quiet attitude, there was no mistaking who she was, because her face had been plastered across every sports channel and news website in the country a year ago.

The principal looked down at his computer to type in her student number, but I could not take my eyes off her as she stood completely still beside my chair.

"You can take Miss Laurent down to the arena and show her where we keep the equipment, Lucas," Principal Davis said, without looking up from his monitor.

We walked out into the empty hallway together, and after taking a few long steps in absolute silence, I stopped turning my feet, turned around, and faced her directly near the row of lockers.

"You're Evangeline Laurent," I whispered, looking right at her.

Eva froze instantly, her hands shaking so hard that her clipboard slipped from her fingers and crashed onto the floor between us.