Pucking the Captain
Brody was our starting right defenseman, a loudmouthed hockey bro who never met a boundary he didn't want to push, and he was staring at us with a weird, calculating look on his face.
"Man, you two have been glaring at each other all week," Brody said, chewing on a piece of gum loudly. "It’s intense. You sure you aren't gonna murder each other in that hotel room? Because if Vane starts crying, I'm not dealing with the paperwork."
"We're fine, Brody," I grunted, keeping my voice low and my eyes fixed straight ahead.