Our Overtime (Ice League #1)

by S.C. Kate

“Well, whatever you do out there is pretty damn impressive to me.” “I can’t believe you’ve watched our side,” I said. “I don’t watch your side, I watch you,” he pointed out.

“Wait! Put your hat on before you catch a cold!” I quickly called to him, which earned a couple hoots from the bus. I grimaced and felt my cheeks heat up, feeling a little bad that I probably embarrassed him, but it was true! It was freezing out and he just showered. But Grey showed no signs of embarrassment, he just gave me a wink as he pulled his beanie from his coat pocket and over top his damp hair. I took that as my que to find my car and head to Brecklin University. As I started towards the parking lot, I felt a buzz in my down jacket and fumbled to unzip my phone. Grey texted: I love being loved by you, baby. A giddy bubble of happiness rose in my chest, the kind of feeling only Grey could give me. The kind of feeling I hoped would never end.

“It was an accident, if that’s what you wanted to know. And not with Grey,” I said weakly, internally wishing it was a lie.

An unmarried one or one who left her baby daddy instead of marrying him would be an even greater disgrace in their eyes.

And she didn’t remember how the side of my face was slit open? It was that unimportant? Just a tiny blip in her timeline of events that she hadn’t even felt the need to commit it to memory; yet every time I looked in the mirror, I was reminded of the night that halted my whole life. I tried to clear my head as I ran, but every car that passed brought me back to that damn night when everything had gone so wrong.

I was happy with it: a depiction of outdoor skating at Tenny Park on my right upper arm. The image was etched in with just black ink and detailed trees surrounding the swirl of the ice-covered river and small figures playing pond hockey, and a tiny figure doing a layback as well. Sleeves looked tough as shit. and I wanted to keep Minnesota with me wherever I went.

She was my heart and my home. And now it was on my sleeve, literally. I was a fan.

“I’m not going to sit back and watch my kid fuck up all season,” the angry voice snapped. I wracked my brain to place the voice but couldn't. And on top of that, all of the kids who made the cut for the team were pretty damn good for their age… “He is not going there! And I’d like you to stop bringing it up. I have custody. I have the final say.”