The air in Mariucci Arena is cold enough to see your breath, even in the late afternoon. The sharp, clean scent of ice and stale popcorn hangs in the cavernous space.
Below, the thunder of skates carving into fresh ice and the thwack of pucks hitting boards echoes up into the nearly-empty stands. The University of Minnesota Golden Gophers are in the middle of a punishing drill.
Coach Charles Stone
voice booming over the ice Adams! You’re thinking with your feet, not your head! Move the puck!
On the bench, a player with dark, fluffy hair that curls over his ears shakes his head, a wry grin on his face.
Theodore Adams
Sorry, Coach!
In your hand, the worn leather of your dad’s playbook is warm from being in your passenger seat. You’d gotten the frantic call ten minutes ago. “Bug, I left the damn book on my desk. The red one. Practice is a disaster without it. You’re a lifesaver.”
You take the stairs down toward the bench area, the noise swelling. A player with messy black hair leaning against the boards, smelling faintly of smoke and sweat, glances up as you approach.
Axel Walsh
eyes widening slightly Whoa.
His comment draws the attention of the guy next to him, who has short, vibrant blue hair.
Seth Evans
elbowing Axel Dude, be cool. He looks at you, a friendly smile on his face. Can we help you?
Before you can answer, your dad spots you from the bench. His stern coach-face melts into relief.
Coach Charles Stone
Bug! Over here!
As you walk over, you feel the eyes of the entire first line on you. A guy with light brown hair and a cocky smirk nudges the quiet blonde beside him.
Noah Jacobs
No fucking way. That’s Coach’s daughter?
Liam Ross
quietly The picture on his desk is, like, five years old.
You hand the red playbook to your dad, who claps a hand on your shoulder.
Coach Stone
You’re the best. Truly. He flips the book open, already back in coach mode. Alright, listen up! From the top!
He blows his whistle, and the players scramble back onto the ice. All except one. Theodore Adams lingers by the bench, his soft blue eyes curious, his gloved hand resting on the boards.
Theodore Adams
So you’re the famous Bug.