One hour earlier…..
“The New boy will be joining us today.” the coach said to Luciano as he stood in the middle of the ice rink.
“What is it to me if a new boy is joining the team?” Luciano said, his voice cold and solid imitating the ice.
The cold air bit against his skin.
His breath left his mouth in visible white clouds.
“The boy is incredibly talented.” Coach Ferdinand countered, unfazed by the chilly reception.
He stepped closer to him.
“Our agent spotted him during a rural charity tournament. I have seen the kid on a video, he is a wizard in the ice. His speed is unlike anything I’ve seen at the high school level.”
Luciano stopped swinging his skate temporarily.
He took a deep breath.
A stream of mist flowed out of his nostrils.
“Why are you telling me all these, Coach?” Luciano asked, his green eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp irritation.
The coach Ferdinand paused for a while as if contemplating what he was going to say next.
He looked out over the empty spectator seats surrounding the rink.
His expression became thoughtful.
“The date for the Ice Storm championship has been fixed. You know Captain Alberto’s departure was a blow to our team. It gave us a talent gap in our team.”
That got Luciano’s attention.
His stick stopped moving completely.
The Ice Storm Cup was the biggest high school hockey championship in the country.
It was held every three years
Winning it meant prestige.
Recognition.
Scholarship opportunities.
And most importantly a pathway into professional hockey.
The coach continued.
“That was why when I was called about this new talent they discovered in the village of Ashford. I was elated and I pursued the boy transfer into our school even though it is in the middle of a semester.”
Luciano listened silently.
His jaw tightened slightly.
The coach walked closer and placed his hands on Luciano’s shoulder.
“When the boy comes I want you to work together with him.”
Immediately the coach touched him, Luciano snorted and shrugged the man’s hand out of his shoulders.
His expression darkened
“Why are you telling me this?”
Coach Ferdinand frowned.
Luciano laughed humorlessly.
“You think I didn’t know of your plan to make the new boy the captain.”
His head hung low as if he was in a deep thought.
“Nobody is planning to replace you or cast you aside. You know how important the Ice Storm cup is, we need every hand we can get to bring the trophy home.”
Luciano sighed and shot the black rubber puck with a lazy half-hearted stroke.
The puck skated smoothly across the sheet and hit the back goalpost with a hollow clang.
Coach Ferdinand is trying so hard to get his validation on the new boy and he understands him.
Not that his refusal would do anything to change the situation.
His dad singlehandedly built this ice rink and has been the sole sponsor for more than three seasons.
Ensuring his son Luciano is prioritised and would still shine despite the arrival of a new star player.
‘Damn it’ he cursed under his breath.
He never liked his dad interfering but he always did it anyways without his consent trying to make him look incompetent and dependent on him.
But then mention of the new boy.
Ever since the Coach announced his arrival, a sinking feeling that he can’t pinpoint has been going down on his stomach.
The preparations, the way Coach Ferdinand and the principal’s eyes lit up when they are talking about him with anticipation and hope, as if they are making light of all his contribution and hard work to the team.
As for the new boy he is already sure he is going to hate him.
Even though they had never met.
Or at least he thought they had never met.
He just hopes the peasant would be reasonable enough to stay out of his way.
He looked at the Coach.
“I don’t care about the new boy, I don’t see him as a threat. We just have to work together to win the championship cup for this team.”
Coach Ferdinand looked immensely relieved.
He patted Luciano’s shoulder twice softly before moving to another group of players.
A few minutes later Luciano felt a disturbance in the air and he heard Coach Ferdinand’s voice talking to someone in an exciting voice.
For some reason he felt his instinct sharpened and the hairs at the back of his neck stood up.
He looked up sharply towards the direction of the voice and his eyes locked into him instantly.
Strikingly Deep blue eyes, messy dark hair dancing lazily in the cold, artificial wind of the rink’s ventilation system.
His lips were pursed into a very infuriatingly confident smirk.
Wait!
Him!!
Him again?
The arrogant prick from the Gold Hall refectory.
The one who sat on his special seat and fought him over it!
What is he doing here?
Why was he talking to Coach Ferdinand?
Why were some of the players surrounding him?
Why was the coach smiling?
He felt his blood boil and his heart pound harder against his ribcage.
As he watched the boy interacting with Coach Ferdinand with a sudden familiarity he felt his heart swell with anger.
He clenched his fist and bit his lips so hard until he tasted blood then all sense of reasoning left him.
As if he belonged here.
The sight made something ugly twist inside Luciano’s chest.
He did not bother to stop and think at all as he took off, the breeze dancing past his ears.
Players turned their heads in surprise.
Nobody understood what was happening.
Not even Luciano himself.
All he knew was that he was blazing angry and furious.
And somehow Roman Milkov was the reason.
He did not stop until he got to the front of a wide eyed Roman and the Coach.
He raised his clenched heavy hockey glove and released all the pent-up, explosive pressure straight into Roman’s jaw.
Gasps erupted around the rink.
“Luciano!”
Roman crashed to the floor immediately with the sudden and unexpected force.
Luciano did not waste a second in swooping down on him.
Before the coach and the others surrounding him could recover, Luciano was already on top of Roman throwing punches and blows.
“Luciano!” Coach Ferdinand shouted but he was not listening.
They rushed in immediately to stop the fight which took quite a lot of effort because Luciano was determined not to let go.
When they finally separated them Luciano was panting heavily, his pristine blonde curls plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his green eyes wide with anger.
While Roman was holding his nose nursing a bruise in it but he didn’t look mad In fact, there was a strange, dangerous glint of absolute amusement dancing deep in his blue eyes, and his bloody lips slowly curled right back into that same mocking, infuriating smirk.
This made Luciano more angry.
“What is wrong with you Luciano? How can you punch your teammate?” The coach demanded angrily.
Luciano was too angry to properly register what Coach Ferdinand was saying .
“What are you doing here you bastard? Who gave you the permission to enter my rink?” He was breathing heavily and his anger was radiating like heat.
Roman did not answer him; he was rubbing his nose rhythmically.
The same glee still in his face.
“What is wrong with you Anderson? Is this how you welcome your new teammate?”
The word ‘Teammate’ finally registered in Luciano’s head.
He looked at his coach with a raised eyebrow.
“Teammate?”
“I was about to introduce him to you. This is our new star player. I am talking about. He arrived yesterday, Roman Milkov.”
Luciano felt his world spin.
The universe must be playing a cruel joke on him.
The arrogant prick of yesterday is now not just his teammate but the principal and Coach Ferdinand’s star player.
Luciano’s hand loosened, and his expensive hockey stick slipped from his fingers, hitting the hard concrete floor with a sharp, echoing tackk sound.
He looked from his Coach to Roman then back to his Coach.
“Fuck you. Fuck you all.” Then he turned back and walked out of the ice rink, the sharp echo of his skates cutting through the silence of the rink.
Our MC Luciano might not know it yet but there is a thin line between hate and love.