Cauler steps closer, until we’re almost chest-to-chest, forcing me to look up at him. “You’re way too small to have such a big ego.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him, and Delilah lets go of me. “Okay, can I get at least ten feet away before you two do … whatever it is you’re doing?”
“This is called intimidation tactics, Delilah,” Cauler argues. “Get your mind out of the gutter; this is your brother we’re talking about.”
I laugh. Loud and uncharacteristically, enough to get a bunch of the boys to whip around and look at me.
“What are you doing to him, Caulfield?” Zero skates over with mock concern in his voice and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Is this boy hurting you, my poor grumpy child?”
“Yeah, I think I ruptured something.” I clutch my stomach, and Cauler’s watching me with this soft kind of look on his face. The kind of look I’ve seen Delilah and Jade give each other, or Bailey and Sid and Karim.
I choke on my next laugh and let Zero lead me away by the elbow before I can jump to any more ridiculous conclusions.
We don’t get far before Cauler calls out, “Hey, Terzo. We should practice our poses for draft day.” He holds up his pointer finger, the way a number one pick always poses in photos with the top three. Like he expects me to go ahead and hold up two.
I cock my head to the side. “You wanna try that one again?”
He stretches his arms, pulling them across his chest and shaking out his wrists like he has to limber up for it. He holds up his fist and slowly raises one finger. I lunge forward and grab his hand, trying to force it down. The entire game’s devolved into trick shots and hockey players pretending to be figure skaters at this point. Zero doesn’t even try to break up our shoving match. He watches until Cauler gets me into a headlock and skates away saying, “Children, all of you.”
I should be embarrassed, what with my arms flailing uselessly at Cauler’s side, bent over and trapped in the crook of his elbow. But he’s laughing, and I’m laughing, and honestly, both teams could vanish off the ice right now, leaving just the two of us, and I wouldn’t even notice.
* * *
NICOLETTE SENDS A link in the group chat in the middle of my Italian class. I don’t usually use my phone in class, but it’s just finals review, and Italian is probably gonna single-handedly keep me from flunking out next week, so it’s not like I really have to pay attention.
The link takes me to a video that I have to panic mute before it gets me in trouble. It’s Hugh and Alyssa in front of another graphic of me and Cauler, this time standing next to each other in our Royals gear during a break in play. He’s saying something with his head bent toward me and pointing down the ice, but I’m looking up at him.
I’ve got this bratty kind of look on my face that makes it seem like I want him to shut up, but it was probably just sweat in my eyes.
Plays perfectly into the Royals Rivalry Heats Up banner they’ve got on the bottom of the screen.
I glance up to make sure Professor Iacovella isn’t staring me down, but since she realized I’m nearly fluent and took this class for the easy A, she pretty much started ignoring me. I’m just lucky she didn’t get me kicked out and sent up a few levels.
I sink lower in my seat and hide my phone under the table anyway.
“Now, you’ve always been one of Mickey James III’s biggest critics, so I’m sure you have plenty to say about his turnaround this season,” Hugh’s saying in the captions.
“I do,” Alyssa says with a deep nod. “We’ve really seen him come out of his shell these past few months. You can tell he’s bonded with this team in a way he never has before.”
“Not to mention how much he’s grown as a player as well,” Hugh adds. “Going into this season, I would have said it was impossible for Mickey James to get any better than he already was without taking the step up to the NHL, but…” He shakes his head, smiling. “He’s become a real two-hundred-foot player. He’s always been a menace in the offensive zone, what with his playmaking abilities, that infamous wrist shot, his outstanding hockey IQ. But we’ve seen him improve exponentially on the backcheck this season. He’s tiny, but he knows how to use his body to create offense in the defensive zone. No matter where he is on the ice, he’s dangerous. I feel bad for any guy forced to go up against him.”
Alyssa shifts her weight from foot to foot as Hugh talks, obviously waiting to say more, and when Hugh’s finally done, she jumps at the chance to say, “I’m gonna go right ahead and credit a good chunk of that growth to Jaysen Caulfield.”
Of course she would. She’s probably right, too.
“James has been touted as the best player on every team he’s ever been on,” she continues. “He didn’t have to put in as much effort to climb above the rest. Now that he shares a team with his biggest draft competitor, he’s been forced to improve himself.”
“Do you think the same could be said of Caulfield?”
“Of course. They’re both gunning for the same spot at the top of their class, so they have to bring their best to the ice every day or else let the other pull ahead. They push each other to do better, whether they mean to or not.”
“They have one of the most heated rivalries in sports going on right now, but they’re surprisingly good at keeping how they feel about each other off the ice. They’re young, but when it comes to hockey, they’re professional.”
“Well, we can’t forget about their behavior on social media.”
“Like I said.” Hugh turns to face the camera with a full media grin. “They’re young.”
The clip ends, and I go back to the group chat.
Nicolette: Imagine the fanfic this rivalry is gonna spawn.
Mickey: People don’t write fanfic about hockey players
Nicolette: Ummmmm I’m counting over 12k in this hockey rpf category so
You’re wrong
I could have gone my whole life without knowing I could be the subject of someone’s fanfiction. I’ve read my fair share of fanfic, and I know what that tends to involve. I also must truly enjoy suffering, because I barely make it out of class before I look it up.
And oh. My god. Nicolette wasn’t lying. There’s AUs and slice of life, hurt/comfort and fluff, and just about all of them involve some ship or another.
Jesus.
This is gonna become a thing now. I’m gonna have to check this every day. Maybe twice a day. Just to make sure I don’t show up at all, of course.
TWENTY-TWO
There’s two kegs at the hockey house to celebrate the end of the semester and a break from games and practices. But I’m over here reading a fantasy AU where I’m some kind of elven rogue sent to assassinate Cauler, a human prince, and instead end up falling in love with him.
I swear it’s a hate-reading. I can’t stop because I can’t believe someone actually wrote this. I am not invested at all.
But oh my god, I have to show Cauler.
Delilah’s doing a keg stand in the kitchen when I finally go for a drink, a couple of the boys holding her up. The kitchen’s crowded with players from both teams waiting for a turn and cheering her on, so I take a few quick shots with Zero and head back to the living room with a beer in each hand.
I wait until my fingers are tingling and my tongue feels heavy before texting Cauler sitting across the room, a bottle of water in his hands. I haven’t seen him drink all night.
Mickey: I gotta show you something man
It’s horrible