The Fake Out PDF - Stephanie Archer
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loginBLOOD POUNDS in my ears as I skate toward the net during my first game with the Vancouver Storm. We’re tied in overtime, and there’s a crescendo of noise from the crowd as I rear back and slapshot the puck at the net.
It pings off the crossbar, and the Vancouver fans let out a collective groan of disappointment. Stars score goals. My dad, Canadian hockey legend Rick
Miller, has said it so many times over the years, and it’s what I chant to myself as I snag the puck out of the mess of players
and skate backward until I’m open.
The whistle blows, the game stops, and I look over to the pretty girl who’s been catching my attention all night. Hazel Hartley, one of the team physiotherapists—stunning
and sharp-tongued, with long, dark lashes, a plush mouth the perfect shade of pink, and the most striking blue-gray eyes I’ve ever seen—sitting behind the net with her sister, Pippa, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
Hazel Hartley, my high school tutor who had a boyfriend, who can’t stand me and doesn’t date hockey players anymore. Despite Pippa wearing a Storm jersey with the name of her
fiancé, goaltender Jamie Streicher, on the back, and despite Hartley working for the team, I haven’t seen her in a jersey since high school. Tonight, my gaze catches on her chestnut
hair pulled up in a ponytail, her pale purple puffer jacket. I bet she’s wearing the black leggings that always make her ass look
incredible.
