An hour and a half later, the two of us made our way back to the locker room. It was empty, but our lockers were set up now, practice jerseys hanging. "Sarah the equipment manager," Kevyn observed. "Apparently she does more than just hang out."
I dressed quickly and had to wait for him to finish getting his goalie stuff on. The ice was in good condition, and I felt it out while he stretched in his crease. I actually found myself watching him more than anything. I could tell just from his warm-ups that he was good. He was limber and agile and obviously very comfortable and confident in his place. "Ready?" I called.
"Bring it on," he called back lowering his mask.
I dropped the puck and took a deep breath. Letting the logical part of my brain clear, I allowed a more...primitive portion to take over. I jolted forward, playing the puck back and forth, faster and faster until I knew it was making him nervous. As I neared the crease, I darted left like I was trying to sneak a backhand by him. He followed me easily, cutting off the angle. I faked the shot, but instead knocked the puck sideways through my own legs. I stopped and whirled on a dime, and had hit the net top shelf with the loose puck before he even realized what I'd done with it instead of shoot.
Kevyn raised his mask and looked at me in amazement. "Where the hell did you learn to skate like that?"
I shrugged. "Just picked it up, I guess."
"Picked it up like you picked up that shot? You must have a hell of a learning curve."
I shrugged again. His praise was a little disconcerting. I was glad to see Billy and Dame skate onto the ice, feeling it out just like I had. "What are you two doing?" Dame called, skating over. He was tall and well built, a sharp contrast to Billy, small and quick. The three of us had been inseparable since we were 6 years old.
"Your captain's giving me a clinic," Kevyn said, shaking his head.
Dame squinted at me. "Yeah, he's pretty good, ain't he?"
Billy joined us, his perpetual grin in place. "He hates it when people tell him he's good, too."
The rest of the team began to file onto the ice, joking around a little, skating up and down, and stretching. Coach Brown came out and blew his whistle, and we all grouped around him.
"Morning boys. You all know why you're here. I hate to have to do this, but your parents do like knowing what you're up to, so I'm going to say it once. You boys are serious, talented athletes. I know that you know better than to treat your bodies with anything other than respect. I assume you don't drink, I assume you don't do drugs, and I assume you don't smoke. If I find out otherwise, your position on this team and at this facility may be in jeopardy. I also know that you've worked out various arrangements with your schools or whatever for however much school you have left. If I get any reports of you not following through with that, your spot is also in jeopardy. I've got a list of alternates a mile long. Got that?"
We all murmured agreement, and I unfortunately knew of several who already broke his rules. I wondered if I should talk to them about it, being the captain. "Ok, then," he continued. "Let's get on with this. Mr. Addison, lead them in warm-ups and stretching. We'll do team drills first, break up by position and work on some stuff, and then scrimmage. Conditioning is last. That's the morning practice, by the way, we'll work out in the afternoons, but it'll all be strength and conditioning, rarely will we skate. Ok? Let's get started."
I led them in the warm-up routine my team at home did, and set up some shooting and puck control drills. It was then that I really got to see Kevyn in the goal. He was probably working at about 60% this early in practice, and he was still making rather complicated saves look routine and easy. As we moved along, I could see the rest of the team growing more and more impressed with him. Coach asked the two alternate captains to choose sides for a scrimmage. Neo and Chris looked at each other, and Chris eventually took me with the first pick. Neo took Kevyn with the second.
We had a good game, scoreless, and finally Coach told us that the next goal won. The loser was already slated for extra blue line sprints, so we really didn't want to lose. "Come on, boys, pick it up!" I called, banging my stick on the boards. "Hey, let's change it up!" Chris sent the puck deep into their zone, and Billy, Neo, and I jumped over the boards. A few seconds later, Luke picked up the puck along the boards deep in our zone and sent it up to Neo. He carried it across the blue line and into their zone before flipping it to me. I maneuvered around one of the defensemen and moved like I was going to circle around the net. As Austin came at me from the other side, I stopped quickly and reversed my direction, playing the puck off the boards as I did so. As I'd gauged, it came right back to my stick. Kevyn was cutting off my angle, and I caught the glimpse of a passing lane through the crease. I eased the puck through and right to Billy on the. Knowing, the screen and defense would shift and Kevyn would sprawl out, he faked a onetimer and played a perfect pass right back to me. I deftly redirected it on net. Kevyn didn't have a chance.
"Dude, nice pass," Billy smiled, patting me on the helmet. "Thanks for saving me from the extra sprints. My knee's killing me as it is."
"Nice on your part, too."
He gave me a brilliant smile and skated over to Dame as Coach came out to start us in our skating. Lots of skating. Changing speed, changing direction, varying everything he could think of. Even I was exhausted by the time he called the end of practice. Everybody was looking a little worn heading into the locker room, and we were nearly silent as we showered and dressed. The lack of noise bothered me. "Good practice, guys," I called out, initiating a lot of agreement and some grumbling about the difficulty.
"Yeah, and I'm looking forward to conditioning this afternoon," I heard Kevyn say, and a whole lot more groans followed.
Amused, I headed back to my room to set up my computer. Most of my schoolwork was coming via the 'net, and I figured I was less tired now than I would be at the end of the day. I was starting an essay on Elizabethan prejudices based on The Merchant of Venice when my roommate returned. "Doing work?" he asked, sitting on his bed and bouncing slightly. Weird goalies.
"Yeah. What're you doing with school?"
"I only need two more credits. One's a physical education credit, which I'm fulfilling by being here, and the other's science. I'm taking online chemistry."
I sighed. "I've got chem., too, plus British Literature and calculus. But I started this summer, so I should finish up before we start traveling for games."
"Oh. Good practice today. Nice goal on me."
"Thanks."
"You really are modest, aren't you?"
I gave him the shrug I had already patented. "I suppose. Why are you here, Kevyn?"
"You can call me Kev. And...well, I was invited. Seemed too good to turn down. And I love to play, I really do."
"Yeah. I'd kind of given up hope of really being...exposed. No one looks down here. They're getting better, I guess, but still...we're overlooked. You don't really know, you've lived in New England. But when you put up great numbers in a North Carolina league, they just assume the competition's weak. If this can get me noticed...well, that's why I'm here."
He blinked at me for a moment. "Christ, Park, I've been playing for a long time. I watched you play for a couple of hours and you're like the best high school player I've ever seen."
Shaking my head, I just turned back to my essay.