Six
I’ve been playing hockey since I could walk.
My mom and my dad are big hockey fans. My dad played in high school and in college but then stopped after my parents had me. My mom actually got pregnant with my brute of an older brother, Emmett accidently because my mom was a puck slut who kept throwing herself at my dad when he got off the ice.
I know. I’m ashamed too.
Then my parents had my brother, Jasper. He’s more quiet and mellow. He was an accident too. And so was I. My parents never really planned on having kids. I don’t mind it much because they were good enough parents, even if they were a bit too lenient with my eldest brother, which is probably why he’s such an asstard.
Me, Emmett and Jasper all play hockey. In fact, we’ve played on a lot of the same teams. My parents could never afford to pay outright for college for all three of us, so they had us play hard in hockey so that we could get scholarships to pay for college. This being said, my parents had me play with boys. They thought I would be more likely to get a scholarship that way. By the time I was seven, Jasper was nine and Emmett ten we had played together in three different leagues.
When we got to High School, Emmett was Captain of the hockey team. Basically, my freshman year, Emmett was Captain of the hockey team and Jasper was Assistant captain. Usually, you would think that would make things easier for me, but it really didn’t. They hazed me so much freshman year that I kicked their asses so bad in practice that the coach benched me for the game the next week.
When Emmett graduated, he went to University of Michigan. He played for their team and when he graduated from there, he joined the Bruins. The craziest thing is that both Jasper and I were picked up by them too after graduating from Harvard and Brown University respectively. Emmett was the only one of us who lacked in brains.
So that’s how I started my first day of practice with the all-boys team.
My brothers were going to make me miserable.
Shit.
_
“So listen, Bells. They’ve been talked to. They won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.”
I rolled my eyes, “Emmett you dumb fuck. It’s a team. I don’t want any special treatment because my brother is squeamish.”
“At least let me put you in your own locker room. I don’t want you to get eye-fucked by a bunch of horny hockey players. You’re so sweet and innocent! You can’t have boyfriends!”
“Emmett. I’m twenty-two years old. I can have boyfriends. In fact I have had boyfriends. I’ve even had sex,” I said knowing it would horrify him, “You can’t stop me.”
He groaned and put his hands over his eyes. “I need some Clorox.”
I rolled my eyes again and walked off towards the locker room, hauling my heavy hockey bag into the room.
And then I got an eyeful of penis right in my face.
“Jesus!” I shrieked, “Put that shit away!”
The boys stared at me slack jawed.
“You’re Bella Swan?” a blond kid asked.
I always got this reaction. For some reason, every time I met a new team, they always thought I was going to be a six foot tall behemoth of a girl that looked like a cross between a troll and an ogre. Jasper had this theory that it was because ninety-nine point nine percent of really good girl hockey players looked like the wrong end of a donkey.
That point zero one percent was me.
“Yes?” I answered in annoyance.
“You’re changing in here?” he asked.
“You have a brain?” I replied.
A bunch of the other guys started laughing hysterically and one even high-fived me. We broke the ice. Thank god.
Things got awkward again when I started stripping down to my sports bra and underwear. “The Hell you looking at?” I asked to the guy sitting next to me.
“Your jock is pink.”
“Your fucking face is pink. Fuck off.”
I pulled my jock on very carefully. Hockey is a dangerous sport with a high injury rate and I had learned very early on that if I ever wanted to have children my jock needed to be on securely. Heaven help a person who got a puck to the vaginal area and wasn’t wearing a jock.
I finished pulling my chest pads on and the Velcro on my elbow pads.
“Hey. Does anyone have an extra practice jersey? Mine hasn’t come in yet.”
All the heads turned to a redhead in the corner who was still tying his skates. He must have realized that everyone was looking at him because he looked up and- Oh my god.
Oh. My. God.
Beaut. This guy was gorgeous. I swear I just came a little.
“El Caputano Cullen! You got an extra jersey?”
“Uh… yes. The fuck do you need to know for?” he asked in annoyance. “You need to stop forgetting your jersey, Yorkie. I’m not lending this shit out anymore. You smell like piss and shit.”
“Not for me. The new chick needs a jersey. And since your stuff is actually clean… and smells girly and shit.”
“Just because I actually wash my shit doesn’t make me girly. It means I’m not getting whatever diseases you assholes have,”
I was starting to get annoyed. “Can I borrow the jersey or not?”
He looked taken aback before fishing the jersey out and tossing it to me. “Keep that till you can get one.”
_
Coach Clapp had us do some warm up stretches and skate around the rink a few times to get ready. I was stretching on the ice with my legs down in a crouch. I had played goalie for a few years and I came to really like stretching like this.
“Swan!” yelled Coach. My brothers and I all looked. But he was talking to me. “What position you play, kid?”
“Anything, Coach.”
He gave me an eye and I smiled prettily. That always worked.
“Practice with the second line today. I’ll put you as left wing. Don’t screw up, Little Swan.”
I nodded and skated over to the second line.
“Hey, guys.”
“Hey,” they mumbled back uncomfortably.
I rolled my eyes, “Guys, really? I’m a hockey player not the Queen of England. You can say what you want in front of me.”
Yorkie shrugged, “It’s just weird, you know? I’ve never played with a girl before. Most of them haven’t either.”
I nodded. “I understand. Just do what you normally do.”
And I did understand. Hockey was male dominated.
We skated over to center ice to take the face off. We’d be scrimmaging for the first thirty minutes of practice. This was my chance to prove myself.
Emmett was giving me an eye wiggle from his position as right wing from the first line.
“I’ll go easy on you baby Bells.”
“I’ll kick your fucking ass, Emmett,” I responded before hitting his stick away from the face off.
He laughed. The fucker. I was going to deck him by the end of practice.
First line won the face off with Cullen as center. I tailed Emmett, which wasn’t very hard because we were equally as fast.
Cullen passed to D. D passed to D and then towards my brother. I was faster though and intercepted the pass. I had a breakaway and skated as fast as I could. D came at me fast and so I faked left before shooting the hardest slap shot I could towards the net. James Hunter, the goalie, smacked the puck away but Yorkie caught the rebound. Cullen checked him and he lost the puck. I picked it up and shot again. This time it went in.
Kiss my ass, fuckers.
_
The guys must have decided that I was pretty cool, so they invited me out for drinks that night to welcome me into the ‘brotherhood’ (I don’t know how I feel about being labeled a man, but I’ll take what I can get).
Jasper picked me up at my apartment and we arrived at the bar on time. My roommate, Alice, had decided to dress me. She’d stuck me in a sensible pair of boots, a knee length floral dress with leggings and a denim coat. The outfit would have been cute, had it not been about forty degrees outside.
I rushed into the bar so I wouldn’t have to brave the Boston chill and immediately saw some of the team at a giant table.
Emmett was already there and stuffing his face with nachos and breadsticks.
“You are such a pig,” I said as I walked over, “I don’t even know if we’re actually related.”
“We so are, piglet. Get used to it!”
I gave him a disgusting look as he spewed food everywhere.
The only seat left was next to Cullen. I reluctantly took it.
“Look at those girls over there.”
“The blondes?”
“Hot as fuck, man,” whispered Mike.
I rolled my eyes and turned to look. The girl gave me a dirty look. Ha. What a bitch.
“Instead of making eyes, go fucking talk to them,” I gave the boys a mischievous smile. “They’re into you. Make a pass at it.”
“I don’t fucking know how to talk to girls,” complained Eric.
Why am I not surprised? Eric was a little bitch.
“Hey!” he exclaimed as the guys around us broke out in laughter.
Did I say that out lout?
“Fuck yeah you did, Swan,” said Mike.
Shit.
“Fifty bucks I can out drink you and pick up more chicks than you,” I said turning to Eric.
“Fucking told you she liked the puss, Cullen!” yelled Mike.
I rolled my eyes, “I don’t like the fucking puss, Mike. I’m just not a little bitch like Yorkie.”