Dare You to Catfish the Hockey Player (Rock Valley High Book 6)

by Lacy Andersen

  I snorted. It definitely wasn’t very ladylike, but hey, who did I have to impress? “Could’ve fooled me.”

  He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, a move that I often did when my sister got on my last nerve. I wondered if I’d pushed him too far. I mean, we were still anatomy partners. We had to play nice for that if we were going to get a passing grade. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he shot me one last piercing steel gaze before stuffing his hands in his front jean pockets and strolling off.

  It wasn’t until he walked out the doors did I realize my heart was performing at the rate of a base guitar at a heavy metal rock concert. I went back for the fries, reaching inside the bag, my stomach growling in anticipation.

  Why did I suddenly feel exhausted after every interaction with Gabriel? Being around his twin brother was exhausting in its own way, for sure. But Gabriel was different. He made me feel guilty, and angry, and giddy, and twisted up all at once. I needed to continue to hate him, if my plan was ever going to work.

  Going soft on the enemy never worked for anyone.

  Chapter Eight

  “And then Hunter and Zane chugged milkshakes until they both nearly puked!” Charlotte said with a giggle. “You really should’ve been there, Beth. We had the best time.”

  I shut my locker and smiled at my friend. Her eyes sparkled as she relayed to me what I’d missed out on last night at the diner. I had to admit, I was a little jealous when I imagined the four of them together having fun without me. I thought I was totally okay with being a loner, but sometimes I surprised myself. That probably would’ve been a lot more entertaining than scolding Gabriel at the club.

  “I’m really sorry I missed it,” I said as we headed toward anatomy class. “Turns out, our first battle is with a pair of seniors. They’re not bad. They’re just good enough to make me a bit nervous. But I’m not sure I made any progress on my weapons stock and the first battle is tonight, so I guess it’ll have to be.”

  I was still waiting on a message back from an online friend about a trade for one of his magical swords. If I got it in time for the battle tonight, I’d be in a great place. Gabriel and I would definitely win our round against those seniors. And with the desire for justice burning in my gut once again toward both of the Corrigan brothers, I was going to charge ahead into this tournament with everything I had. No holding back.

  Everything was falling into place.

  “I can’t wait for you to dominate,” Charlotte said, following me through the classroom door. “But in the meantime, good luck with your new...uh...partner.”

  She winked conspiratorially as she headed off to sit with Angie VanBeel. My feet came to a stop and I gulped as my gaze fell on Gabriel already sitting at one of the lab desks. There was a slight patch of scruff on his jawline. He had his elbows resting on the top of the desk, his chin on top of his fists. From the firm set of his jaw, it looked like he was preparing himself for battle. I could only guess that battle was with me.

  Gabriel didn't like the idea of being my partner anymore than I did. He might have claimed last night that he didn’t hate me, but I was pretty sure that we were miles away from braiding each other’s hair and making friendship bracelets. I guessed we were both going to have to suck it up. The least I could do was try not to lecture him anymore. I was done with that. I'd said my peace. If Gabriel didn't want to stick up to his brother, that was his problem.

  I trudged over to our desk and plopped my backpack on the ground. He grunted an unenthusiastic “hi” as I sat down. I returned it with just as much enthusiasm. There were still a couple minutes left until class was supposed to start. As everyone around us laughed and chatted, we sat in an ever-growing awkward field of silence and listened to the seconds tick by.

  Honestly, it wasn't going to be that hard to keep this frustration toward Gabriel burning in my gut. The longer he went staring at the closed textbook in front of him, the more I felt justified about everything that I was doing to him.

  Besides that, his brother, Michael, was providing more than enough distraction to keep me occupied. For once, I wasn’t the object of his teasing and prodding. He’d put together a mass of spit wads and was shooting them across the room through a plastic straw. Most of them were falling short and into his poor partner’s lap. That only served to make Michael howl with laughter. I watched the whole scene with disgust, wishing I could tear that straw right out of Michael’s hand. But Mr. Hart would be here soon and then Michael would finally straighten out. He didn’t dare push Mr. Hart too far. His position on the hockey team depended on it.

  “You know, it’s not as easy as you make it sound,” Gabriel said suddenly.

  I looked over to see him watching me. He wore a deep frown, much like he had last night when I’d given him a mini-scolding. His hands were still clenched into tight fists on the desk.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked incredulously.

  “You said I should stand up to him.” He gestured loosely toward his brother on the other side of the classroom. A new glob of spit wads had just landed on his poor partner’s textbook. “You make it sound like it’s so easy. But you don’t have to live with that. You didn’t have to grow up with that.”

  I stared hard at him, wondering how we’d gotten back on this topic. I’d been prepared to put that all aside, but here he was, bringing it up again. Apparently, it was open season.

  “Yeah, you’re right, I don’t have to live with that.” I pressed my lips together in a grim smile. “But you’re a constant bystander to his cruelty. Doesn’t that kind of make you equally responsible if you don’t try to intervene? You know, that whole quote about how evil triumphs only when good men do nothing?”

  His eyes darkened and he slouched slightly, his gaze redirecting to the table. Really, I was feeling quite proud of myself for such a powerful comeback. I was pretty sure I’d won yet another argument. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I made sure Gabriel wasn’t looking and then opened my Battlegrounds app. My friend still hadn’t gotten back to me about the sword. If we were going to make this trade happen by tonight, he needed to message me soon.

  “For the record, I have tried to intervene,” Gabriel said suddenly, snapping my attention back to his face. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and then stared down at the table. “Just maybe not in the way you want, but at the least I always try to get him to back down.”

  The burning righteous anger inside of me cooled a little bit. That was an interesting perspective of history. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, wondering if I’d missed it. I supposed, if I looked at all my interactions with the Corrigan brothers, I could kind of see how Gabriel had tried to deescalate the situations. I used to think he acted as a kind of buffer for his brother—a bodyguard, so I wouldn’t attack him. But I guess he could’ve been trying to protect me, as well.

  Of course, me and my hot mouth weren’t any help. I’d risen to the challenge every time Michael had spewed ugliness in my direction.

  A girl had to stand up for herself, after all.

  “Fine, whatever.” I picked up my phone, rechecking my messages for the hundredth time, and avoided Gabriel’s eye contact. He could try to make himself feel better about this situation, but I wasn’t going to have it. Not until after the end of this tournament and the trophy was in my hands.

  “Good afternoon, boys and girls.” Mr. Hart came striding through the doors of the classroom, a cup of coffee in hands. The bell rang, signaling the start of class. He tipped his head to us and then set his coffee on his desk. “Everyone choose their projects yet?”

  There was a spattering of reluctant sighs and affirmations. His eyebrows rose and then he picked up his class roster.

  “I think we’ll go down the list and see what’s on everyone’s mind. If you’re stuck, I’m sure the rest of the class will be happy to provide suggestions. We’ll start first with Miss Charlotte and Miss Angie. What activity will you be using to study the amazing physiological function
s of the human body?”

  The buzzing of my phone in my hands distracted me from Charlotte’s energetic reply. I looked down to see a message notification from the Battlegrounds app. This was what I’d been waiting for. My heart began to hammer with excitement. Hiding my phone under the desk, I unlocked it to see the message.

  BadBoyBattler: Got the Elf Master’s sword you wanted. Trade it for your battle ax?

  My fingers blurred as I quickly typed a reply.

  CurrerBFighting: Affirmative. Sending swap request now.

  I wanted to squeal with joy. This new sword was especially powerful in the hands of my character. To anyone else, it was pretty useless, but I’d be invincible. With a sideways glance at Gabriel, to be sure once again that he wasn’t paying attention to my screen, I went into the game and set in motion the weapons swap.

  It would be in my virtual hands by tonight. Perfect timing.

  “Miss Frye, do you have something to share with the rest of us?”

  Crap! Panic shot through my chest as I looked up at Mr. Hart. He stared at me from the front of the room, one eyebrow artfully cocked, a wry smile on his face. Slowly, I became aware of the rest of the class watching me, also. My cheeks burned so hot, I was pretty sure I’d get a third degree burn. Shrinking down slightly in my chair, I smiled helplessly at him.

  “Um...no?”

  His eyebrow arched farther. With calm, steady steps, he walked toward me, the class roster still in his hands. He looked down at me with an almost pitying smile.

  “You know the rules, Beth. Mess with your phone during class and get detention.”

  The whole class tittered and there was the definite sound of Michael Corrigan laughing in glee. My lips parted in shock, all words leaving me. I’d never had detention. Not once. Which was kind of surprising, as even I could admit that I was a little overly sassy sometimes. But I’d prided myself on my clean record. And now, that was all gone.

  What did kids do in detention? Sit in dingy rooms in the school basement and do prison-style tattoos on each other? It was the only image I could conjure up in my mind. That wasn’t me. I didn’t belong there.

  “Coach, you can blame me,” Gabriel said suddenly, leaning over the desk toward our teacher. He frowned and his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. “I asked her to email me her notes on the project so I wouldn’t look stupid when you called on us.”

  Mr. Hart’s attention shot to Gabriel, along with everyone else in the room. I stared at the side of Gabriel’s face, wondering what exactly had possessed him to lie to the teacher for me. The rest of the class was probably in amazement that Gabriel could even talk at all, he was usually so quiet.

  “Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Corrigan.” Mr. Hart held out his hand for my phone. I placed it delicately in his hand, wincing when he snapped it away. “If that’s the case, you can both serve detention with me after school today. I’ve got some fish tanks that need cleaning. Beth, you can get your phone back after that.”

  Dread throbbed in the veins on my temples. Cleaning tanks was a better reality than prison tattoos and moldy basements, but today was the first battle. If Mr. Hart made us clean all of his fish tanks, we’d never get home in time to start. And if we didn’t win this battle, we were done. And so too were my dreams of being the first girl to dominate this tournament. I shot halfway out of my chair, holding my hand up to object.

  “But, Mr. Hart—”

  “No ‘buts’,” he shot back, placing my phone in the top drawer of his desk. “You knew the rules. There are no exceptions. Everyone knows that.”

  Usually, that was a good thing with Mr. Hart. Even his star athletes had to abide by the same rules. But right now, it felt especially unfair. I’d never been in trouble before. Didn’t I at least get a written warning or something? It didn’t seem right that I had to get a black splotch on my record for one tiny little infraction. I was fighting a battle here. A battle for the ages. A battle for the sexes. Getting that weapon had been paramount to winning our first round. Couldn’t Mr. Hart sense the urgency in my voice?

  “Sorry, I tried,” Gabriel muttered as Mr. Hart called on the next team to talk about their topic.

  “Thanks.” I stole a glance at him and met his eyes. Honestly, it was kind of cool that he’d come to my rescue. I hadn’t expected it. “That was...decent. But now we were going to be cleaning fish tanks all night long.”

  “At least you don’t have to worry about the tournament,” he grumbled, tightening his hands into fists on top of the desk. “The first round’s tonight. If I miss it, I’m screwed. I never should’ve opened my mouth.”

  Bile filled my mouth. “Yeah, good thing I don’t have to worry about it,” I said grumpily, crossing my arms on the desk and cradling my chin. “I guess I should thank my lucky stars no one wanted to play with me because I’m a girl. Yep, I’m lucky.”

  Yeah, I was probably redirecting my anger at the wrong person here, but I couldn’t help it. Gabriel’s lack of sensitivity was infuriating. I refused to meet his gaze as he looked over at me, practically burning a hole in the side of my face. My sour tone must’ve made my thoughts loud and clear. A few seconds passed, and then he shifted and redirected his attention back to the front.

  He probably regretted standing up for me. No doubt, he’d probably expected me to swoon and fall at his feet like some damsel in distress. Not me. No, I was sinking into my sour mood like quicksand. It was most definitely a pity party, but I didn’t care. Serving detention on the first night of the tournament with my gaming partner was not my idea of killing it. If both of us didn’t make it to the game on time, we were toast.

  And all my plans of world domination would go straight down the drain.

  Chapter Nine

  Now I understood Lexi’s complaint about the city bus.

  Smelling like fish was the worst. The absolute worst. I was elbow deep in muck, my favorite Fortnight sweatshirt permanently scented with the aroma of fish poop, mold, and rotting fish food. It was a good thing I didn’t have a queasy stomach. I could hold back my disgust. Gabriel, on the other hand, wasn’t looking so good.

  “Here, take this,” I said, handing him an empty bucket as he stood next to me, tackling the African Cichlid tank.

  He nodded gratefully, setting it beside him without a word. His face had turned a slight shade of green and every once in a while, he’d make a retching sound in the back of his throat. It was almost comical to watch. If I hadn’t been so worried about getting to the first round of the tournament in time, I would’ve actually enjoyed seeing him scrape fish waste off the murky side of the empty tank. There was something about seeing a big, bad hockey star reduced to cleaning stinky tanks in detention. It humanized him. I was pretty sure Michael wouldn’t have been caught dead doing this.

  And Michael definitely wouldn’t have tried to save me from detention.

  It was safe to say that my resentment toward Gabriel had cooled since class. He hadn’t meant anything by his comment. He was just as worried about missing the tournament as me. It was too bad I couldn’t talk to him about it.

  “So...”

  My gaze darted around the science lab, looking for a possible topic to distract both of us from the growing pile of nauseating sludge in the trash between us. It landed on a giant Minnesota Golden Gophers hockey poster near Mr. Hart’s empty desk. That was his alma mater. He was a Gopher fanatic and constantly talked about their games in class. I’d remembered Battlescar13 telling me about taking a trip to visit the college this fall. Maybe that was a safe enough topic.

  “Has Mr. Hart convinced you and Michael to go to Minnesota for school yet?” I asked, shooting Gabriel a quick glance. “He’s probably already got the coach calling you guys for try-outs.”

  He nodded, a sullen expression pulling at his lips. “Yep. Michael’s already applied.”

  “But not you?”

  There was a slight sucking in of his cheeks before he answered. “No. Not yet.”

  That was int
eresting. I’d always imagined the twins would be attached at the hip for the rest of their lives. It seemed that they always did everything together. Maybe that wasn’t what Gabriel wanted, though.

  “Where would you go, if you could go anywhere?” I asked, pulling handfuls of glass rocks from the bottom of my tank and tossing them in a strainer to be cleaned.

  He froze, the squeegee halfway down the glass wall of the tank. His brow wrinkled and he pursed his lips in thought. It was obvious there was an answer just sitting on his tongue. Whether or not he trusted me enough to spill was another question.

  “Texas A&M,” he said quietly, almost as if he didn’t want me to hear. He went back to cleaning the glass, the squeegee moving smoothly over the surface.

  I chuckled. That was not what I’d expected. “Wow, not a lot of ice in Texas.”

  “Right.” He made eye contact with me for a second and then looked away. “Maybe there are more important things in life than ice.”

  “Like what?” I leaned my elbow on the top of the tank and grinned at him. Now this, I had to hear. What in the world could be more important to a Corrigan twin than ice and hockey?

  “Like a great engineering program.”

  I blew out a puff of air. There was no making fun of that. Engineering was an awesome career path. One that I’d considered for myself, although it was one of a dozen I was still mulling over. My mom was pulling for a premed program and my dad was pushing me to check out a great microbiology program at University of Wisconsin-Madison. I wasn’t sure what I wanted yet, other than to get out of this small town. Texas was just far enough away from home that it also had a lot of appeal. I could see why Gabriel had his sights set on Texas A&M.

  “That’s actually really cool,” I said, dumping the rest of my stones into the strainer. The red-bellied piranha that had previously occupied the tank swam circles in a bucket at my feet. “I’ve been considering Texas A&M myself.”

  “Really?” He perked up slightly, his shoulders straightening. “I haven’t really told anyone yet. I keep thinking people will think it’s some kind of joke.”