Chapter 2 Jason

I wasn't someone who got angry easily.

At least, I liked to think I wasn't.

But Reagan had said something that made my blood boil.

Minutes Earlier

My heart was pounding as I stared Reagan down.

He held the puck, a smug smile spreading across his face.

I spat out a mouthful of sweat and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"You look so tired," he said, grinning. "Why don't you go take a break?"

"You should be the one taking a break," I shot back, forcing myself to stay focused.

"Oh, I will."

His grin widened.

"And your girlfriend will be the one giving me a massage while I rest my head on her perfect titties."

My blood ran cold.

Then the whistle blew.

Reagan moved toward me, deliberately crashing into my side.

I lost my balance and hit the ice hard.

By the time I pushed myself up, the puck was already in their possession.

Then they scored.

The crowd erupted.

I barely heard them.

All I could hear was Reagan's voice repeating in my head.

Your girlfriend.

My fists clenched.

I got back on my feet and charged toward him.

"What did you say to me?"

I ripped off my gloves.

Before he could answer, my fist connected with his face.

He crashed onto the ice.

I climbed over him and threw another punch.

And another.

"Jason!"

Coach's voice cut through the noise.

Hands grabbed me from behind, trying to pull me away.

"Jason, get off him!"

I resisted until the coach finally managed to drag me back.

I spat onto the ice and stared at Reagan.

Blood was running from his nose.

"Cut the cameras! Cut the feed!" Coach shouted.

The referee rushed over to help separate us while the media scrambled to capture every second.

Present Time

"What was that out there?"

Coach stood in front of me, furious.

"He insulted me," I said, trying to defend myself.

"So?"

He pointed toward the door.

"He insulted you, and your response was to assault him?"

"I didn't assault him." I released the tension in my neck. "I just wanted to teach him some manners."

Coach stared at me like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Well, congratulations. You just gave the media exactly what they wanted."

He shook his head.

"They're calling you a beast. You better pray Reagan doesn't file a lawsuit, because if he does, you're off the team."

He turned and walked away.

"Yo, man. That wasn't cool."

Phillip threw his gloves down before leaving.

"You're going to make us lose our qualification for the finals," Matthew added angrily.

He stormed off after Phillip.

I scoffed.

"Well, we weren't going to qualify anyway."

"What a bunch of losers," I muttered.

I threw my gloves onto the floor alongside my hockey stick.

"Hey, man. Wait up."

I turned as Chad hurried toward me.

"What? You're not going to shout at me or call me a piece of shit?"

"Nah, man."

He shrugged.

"He deserved it anyway."

He threw an arm around my shoulder.

"Come on. I'll drop you home."

We walked toward his car.

Chad had been my best friend since high school. His dad and my dad had been friends since college, back when they lived in the same frat house.

As soon as we got into the car, Chad glanced at me.

"What happened back there, man? You totally lost it."

He swerved onto the main road.

"He was trying to get into my head," I said, running my hands through my hair.

"He clearly did."

He glanced at me before looking back at the road.

"Did he say something?"

I hesitated.

Then I sighed.

"He said Tiffany would give him a massage while he rested his head on her tits."

The car came to a sudden halt at the traffic light.

Chad stared at me.

Then burst out laughing.

"What?"

"He actually said that?"

"Yes."

He started laughing again.

"It's not funny."

"My guy, it absolutely is."

I glared at him.

He shook his head.

"We all know Tiffany's a whore. You just refuse to accept it because she's your media girlfriend."

"She's not a whore."

I said it quickly.

Maybe too quickly.

"She's just popular. People are always trying to make her look bad."

"Okay."

Chad nodded slowly.

"You can keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night."

The light turned green.

He started driving again.

"Just pray you didn't punch Reagan and then find out she's actually fucking him."

I stared out the window.

"Thanks, Chad."

He pulled up outside my dad's penthouse.

"Anytime."

I got out of the car.

He drove away, leaving me standing by the gate.

I took a deep breath before walking inside.

I already knew what was waiting for me.

My dad.

I dropped my bag onto a chair and headed into the kitchen for some water.

"Our beast superstar has finally decided to come home."

Dad clapped slowly.

"Isn't that wonderful?"

"Good evening, Dad."

I placed the bottle on the counter.

"What's good about the evening?"

He scratched his beard as if he genuinely needed to think about it.

Then his eyes lit up.

"Oh, I know."

He pulled out his phone.

"Young Hockey Star Jason Whiteson Gets Into Fight With Mountain Dew Skater's Captain After Losing Match."

He looked up at me.

"He offended me," I said, pointing at him.

"Shut up!"

His voice echoed through the room.

"You know better than to fight on the rink. You're supposed to turn that anger into a reason to win the next match."

He slammed his hand against the counter.

"Now I have to clean up your mess once again."

"It's not my fault he couldn't control his stupid mouth."

"I'm sorry."

He spread his arms dramatically.

"It's my fault for giving birth to a stupid son like you."

I clenched my jaw.

"After what happened five years ago, you're still pulling stunts like this?"

"That wasn't my fault. He cornered me."

"You're lucky you didn't kill him."

Dad shook his head.

"And now you've pulled another one."

He hit the counter again.

"Whatever reason you have for doing shit like this, it had better be worth it."

He grabbed his phone and stormed away.

I stood there for a moment before heading upstairs.

I slammed my bedroom door shut and collapsed onto the bed.

Today was officially the worst day of my life.

I grabbed my phone and opened Instagram.

That was a mistake.

My feed was flooded with posts and memes about me beating up Reagan.

One post read:

"Trouble in Rinkdise as Hockey Star Jason Whiteson Beats Up Mountain Dew Skater's Captain."

The comments underneath were even worse.

User_34525424: He's probably just angry because the Dew Skaters beat them twice.

User_2234531: I heard he got into a fight with the coach of Deon Strikers five years ago, but his dad had the case shut down.

Nogged546: He's just a spoiled rich kid who was appointed to be on the rink with someone as good as Reagan.

She devil5564: Screaming jealousy and it's very loud.

I scoffed and tossed my phone onto the bed.

Then I grabbed a pillow and screamed into it.

It had been two days since the rink incident.

People whispered whenever I walked through the halls at school.

My teammates were still pissed at me.

And I hadn't heard a word from Tiffany.

Beautiful.

Coach had called a mandatory team meeting, and I already knew what it was about.

The verdict.

Either I was getting kicked off the team, or I was finding out whether we'd even be allowed to qualify for the finals.

I walked into the locker room.

The conversation died almost immediately.

Eyes followed me as I took my seat.

Coach opened his clipboard.

"Good afternoon, everybody."

We greeted him.

"I have good news and bad news, so I'll start with the good."

He paused.

"We still qualify for the finals."

Cheers erupted around the room.

Chad slapped my back.

"That's what I'm talking about!"

I managed a small smile.

"What about the bad news?" Tyler asked.

Coach's expression hardened.

"Following Jason Whiteson's rowdy behavior and the assault on Reagan . . ."

He looked directly at me.

"Jason, you are suspended for two games."

The room went quiet.

"And you will be benched for the finals."

I shot to my feet.

"That's not fair."

"That's the compromise the board came to."

Coach pointed his clipboard at me.

"You're lucky they agreed not to file a lawsuit."

He turned and walked away.

"Coach!"

He didn't stop.

I stood there, staring after him.