KINGS OF RITTENHOUSE

by Maya Hughes

  KINGS OF RITTENHOUSE

  Novella

  Maya Hughes

  Contents

  1. Declan

  2. Makenna

  3. Declan

  4. Makenna

  5. Declan

  Excerpt from Shameless King

  Also by Maya Hughes

  Connect with Maya

  1

  Declan

  The low rumble of the crowd behind us made the guys smile. We didn’t mind the attention out on the ice or even in the hallways of Rittenhouse Prep, but having the entire student body clapping and cheering made the tips of my ears heat up. Ford sat beside me and looked ready to crawl under the bleachers and never come out. His leg bounced up and down so fast the entire bottom bleacher shook.

  Some people said high school was the best years of their lives, but there was no way in hell I was letting that happen! High school was a pit stop on the way to the real shit. To the stuff that most people only dreamed about and would never achieve, except I would and I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way. I’d grab onto it with both hands, wrestle it to the ground, and not let go until I wrung every drop out of it.

  I threw my arms in the air and cheered for every other sports team from our prep school’s lineup. The noise in the gym was deafening already, and Principal Vander hadn’t even gotten to the team people were clamoring for. My team.

  “And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for, after four back-to-back state championships and the longest winning streak for any team in Rittenhouse Prep history, for three years running, I give you all, your Rittenhouse Kings,” he boomed into the mic, using his best Oprah voice.

  The entire student body lost their minds like they weren’t shoulder to shoulder with us every day—well some of us. Colm was pretty tall. We stood from the bench on the bottom row of the stadium seating as the thunderous applause and feet stamping on the bleachers rattled the whole gym.

  With our plastic crowns perched on our heads, we turned to wave to everyone behind us. A sea of waving hands, flapping pennants, and cardboard cutouts of crowns swam in the sea of people.

  “Did they really have to get us crowns?” Ford grumbled over the raucous cheering, pushing his higher on his head.

  “Come on, Ford, relax! Check out all your adoring fans!” I shouted over the noise, grabbing him by his massive shoulders and turning him around to face everyone losing their minds. When Rittenhouse Prep crushed the Malvern Mavericks, we’d put a nail in the coffin of our long-standing rivalry between our schools. Everyone loved a winner.

  Ford raised his hand slightly to wave back to everyone. A few of the girls in the front row beamed at him, but he was completely oblivious, which was fine. I was more than happy to soak up their attention. He spent way too much time in the net as our goalie, always hanging back, and not enough time soaking up the fruits of our labors.

  Everyone winced when the principal’s mic squealed nearly bursting everyone’s ear drums as they turned it up even louder to be heard over the building-shaking noise. “I’ll introduce the seniors one by one, and you can come up and take a picture with them and the trophy. But first....” He introduced the sophomores and juniors on the team and brought them up to stand behind him.

  “And now for your seniors! We have your team captain and right wing, Colm Frost. He has helmed this team since junior year and was voted Best Bromance?” Principal Vander glanced down at the card he was reading from. He shrugged his shoulders like he gave up on trying to figure out what the kids were talking about these days.

  “Voted Best Bromance, along with our intrepid goalie, who only let in three goals all season. Ford Carlisle.” He announced them like a game show host, and the two walked to the center of the gym, waving to the crowd. They’d been joined at the hip since Colm pulled Ford off another kid he was pummeling freshman year. Ford was a scholarship kid like me. Wrong side of the tracks and all that, but he’d been on the straight and narrow ever since Colm took him under his wing back then.

  Colm’s little sister, Olivia, jumped up and down in her seat. She’d come up from the middle school to watch her big brother’s shining moment, although I wasn’t a hundred percent sure it was him she was cheering for. Grant, Emmett’s little brother sat beside her. Colm shot Grant death glares from where he stood beside the principal. He swore Grant was going to make a move on his little sister. His overprotectiveness knew no bounds. Man, I was glad I was an only child. And Alyson, Avery’s little sister sat next to him on the front row.

  “Our bruiser defenseman, Emmett Cunning, also voted Best Beard.” Everyone laughed as Emmett scratched his hand over his facial hair and waved to everyone. He gave his special signal, tapping his two fingers over his lips and shooting them out to his girlfriend, Avery, in the stands. She caught his gesture and rubbed it to her chest.

  Those two were vomit inducing sometimes. Ever since he helped her open her locker sophomore year, they were inseparable. She had his letterman jacket on, which was at least four sizes too big. Even with the sleeves rolled up, her fingertips barely peeked out of the sleeves.

  “Your left wing, Heath Taylor, voted Most Likely to Go to the Olympics. Come on up here, Heath.”

  He took his time with a slow wave and an even slower walk as he got to his spot beside Vander. Looking at him, most people would never assume he was the fastest guy on the team. On the ice he was an unstoppable force with what seemed like limitless energy.

  “Way to get the crowd pumped,” I mumbled under my breath as Heath doubled over laughing at the look on my face.

  “And now, for the person you’ve all been waiting for. The leading scorer for the past two seasons with over eighty goals this season, Declan McAvoy!” He drew my name out like he was giving away new cars to the whole gym. I jogged to the center of the court, my shoes scuffing the floor, and stood beside the rest of the guys and Vander. He gave his sappy education and sports speech, but he had to cut it short when the crowd got too rowdy. For prep-school kids, they were pretty into the sports teams.

  We stood in a mob of people taking selfies and group pictures with everyone who wanted them. The rush of being in this kind of crowd was a hell of a lot different than it was after our games.

  It must be insane for the guys in the NHL. Rittenhouse had a pretty good track record when it came to the Kings. Over ten Kings in the past ten years had gone on to play in the NHL. This year Rittenhouse was likely to produce five NHL players.

  Emmett kept tight-lipped about his plans, but if he wanted a spot on a development team, he could walk on anywhere. Hell, he could probably have gone straight into the draft. A lot of guys from Europe started at seventeen. We were the anomaly by going to college. My mom would kill me if I didn’t go, and she’d already been through enough. I’d do whatever I could to make her happy, even if that was putting off a pro payday to graduate from college.

  As the crowd broke up some, I spotted one lone dissatisfied face in the sea of people left in the gym, not that anyone was surprised. Her telltale bun bobbed with disappointment. The muscles in my neck tensed as she got closer. Ever since a failed group project where I’d missed our presentation, she’d hated my guts. Good, the feeling was mutual.

  She was a rich girl who got whatever the hell she wanted and didn’t know the first thing about people who didn’t have the world handed to them on a silver platter. What the hell did she know about working your ass off on a team because that was the only way you were getting to college?

  Makenna Halstead stormed her way across the gym, her shoes squeaking with each step. Not even the floors escaped her wrath.

  “Hey, Kings.” She had her notebook in her hand and a pen jabbed through the bun that she wore. Every. Single. Day. Ford and Col
m were talking to some other seniors, while Heath was standing beside the student teacher, Miss Juniper, that we’d gotten in the second half of the year.

  The student teacher everyone had been drooling over since she stepped foot on campus. Did I mention she was drop-dead gorgeous and only a few years older than us? Heath had been on a mission to get a little sex ed instruction from her the minute her foot crossed the threshold to the school.

  Emmett was in Avery’s pocket as usual. They both were, and I mean that literally. Whenever they were near each other it was like there was a magnet that permanently attracted their hands to each other’s back pockets.

  I stood back, observing Mak as the little vein in her neck popped out. She tried to get their attention again. There was a bit of personal satisfaction watching her flounder as she tried to break through the laughter and talking of the group around the guys. She was so used to things always going her way.

  Finally fed up, she stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. The guys’ heads whipped around with their eyes wide. Almost as wide as mine. Holy shit! The Ice Queen let out a little fire. I chuckled, and her gaze swung to mine. It wasn’t anything like the last time I’d held her full attention. But that memory was being slowly erased second by second.

  “We need you guys to do your senior superlative interviews since you’ve put them off all year. We need everything wrapped up for the yearbook or no one will be getting theirs in June.” She rolled her eyes at the two junior girls, Claire and Amanda, standing next to Heath, staring up at him as they sneaked touches to his longish blonde hair. He kept glancing at the student teacher, deep in conversation with Vander.

  Makenna jabbed a finger in the direction of the two girls. “Would you two please handle it?” She stalked off without waiting for a response.

  “Sure, we’ll take them straight to the yearbook room,” Claire called after Mak, but the gym door was already slamming shut. Damn, she walked fast.

  We all walked together to the room. Avery peeled herself off Emmett to take Alyson back to the middle school along with Olivia. Heath kept stepping on the backs of my shoes as he tapped away on his phone, and Colm and Ford were deep in play-by-play mode, reenacting our championship game once again.

  The musty old room smelled like the only place in the whole school that hadn’t been renovated a hundred times. Donations poured into the school, along with the hefty tuition price tag for most people. I wouldn’t even be able to clean the floors for the tuition, but the sports scholarship made it all possible.

  We sat in the room for at least twenty minutes, and I don’t think Claire or Amanda had asked us more than two questions on the sheet in front of us, but oh well. I wasn’t going to deny them a chance to flirt.

  “Do you think you’ll play in the NHL?” Claire slid onto the table in front of me, running the pen along her bottom lip. I knew fuck-me eyes when I saw them, and she was practically ready to crawl into my lap.

  “Hell yeah!” I laughed because to everyone it was a foregone conclusion. “Of course I’ll play in the NHL. Just like I’ll be leading my college team to national championships. Every. Single. Year. Once I start college.”

  My destiny had apparently been laid out for me before I was even born. Hockey was in my genes, even if those were genes I hated with the fieriest of passions and wanted nothing to do with.

  The second my skates touched the ice, it was like no one could touch me. It was the one spot where everything made sense. I didn’t know how long my hockey career would be, but I’d make it to the NHL and prove that I didn’t need someone who’d leave me and my mom behind.

  “What was it you said he was voted again?” Heath said, leaning against the table. “Most Humble?” The guys cracked up behind me, already finished with their interviews.

  “I think it was Most Obnoxious.” The voice from across the doorway sliced through the fun in the air like a record scratch as she entered the room and slammed down a thick stack of old yearbooks on the editor’s desk. Not that anyone expected any different from our very own Ice Queen. Sucking air and warmth out of every room she entered.

  She didn’t even look up from whatever she was doing, her head of reddish hair in the same bun. The same kind the half teachers all wore. The same kind that hid how long that hair was and how silky smooth it felt sliding between my fingers.

  “Hey, Mak, what were you voted?” I called out to her. Annoying the shit out of her was second nature by now, I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to.

  “Biggest Stick up the Ass,” Emmett, aka Best Beard, said under his breath, laughing, and covered it with a cough when Mak’s head snapped up. He scratched his hand through the thicket of hair on his face with his eyes bouncing around the room like he hadn’t just said that.

  Mak snatched her glasses off and glared at him. Blue eyes. I’d never noticed before prom a few weeks ago. The only time I’d stared into them as we swayed in a sea of people in a dance that stretched on for more than one song. It was probably the only time anyone had seen her without her glasses on. Then again, most people were afraid to look her directly in the eye. She’d either turn you to stone or shoot icicles through your body.

  I’d skated on the ice for as long as I could remember and no one was colder than her, but that didn’t make her eyes any less beautiful. And it didn’t mean I couldn’t still remember how my hands felt wrapped around her waist, skimming the curve of her ass. She had the clearest blue eyes I’d ever seen. Shaking my head, I kicked myself for even getting the slightest bit soft about her. She’d stormed out with barely a backward glance.

  She squeezed the bridge of her nose like she was dealing with a group of children, and I peered back at the motley crew crammed into the packed yearbook office. Fair enough.

  Heath towered over everyone and was currently trying on different props from the senior superlatives photo session in between checking his phone every fifteen seconds. His thing for older chicks was veering into dangerous territory this time. The giant sunglasses and jester hat didn’t exactly scream mature high school senior.

  Ford looked decidedly uncomfortable stuck in the corner of the room between two ancient filing cabinets. His shoulders touched each one, and they looked like they might explode in any minute away from his body, Hulk-style.

  “I was voted Most Likely to Freeze Someone to Death with My Ice Vision.” She pushed away from the desk and strode across the room. The blood looked like it drained out of Claire’s and Amanda’s faces as their backs went ramrod straight.

  “She was voted Most Likely to Succeed,” Claire whispered to me out of the side of her mouth, like someone in the room might have thought it was a real category. No shit. Mak stood at the end of the table, pressing her palms into it like a CEO in the middle of a boardroom.

  “Since everyone seems perfectly happy screwing around when we have about forty-eight hours to get all this stuff done, I’ll finish up here.” She slid the papers away from Claire and her giggling friend.

  Claire grabbed for a half-filled-out white sheet. “But—”

  Medusa stare fully engaged, Mak snatched the paper away. Claire and her friend winced like they were actually in pain before jumping up from their chairs. Mak wasn’t one to fuck around. I appreciated that. Admired it even, but man, did she need to relax.

  “I’ll finish up here.” That tone of hers came out in a way that most people never dared to challenge her. I had to hand it to Mak. She certainly had a way with people. It was a way that meant she’d end up having a heart attack by the time she was thirty, but she wore it well.

  Claire glanced at me, and I shrugged. The conversation with her wasn’t exactly entertaining, if you could call it a conversation. It was a lot of giggling and touching my arm. Not that I minded usually, but I needed to get stuff done after school. I was sure being interviewed by Mak would be much more interesting and faster.

  “You can leave too,” she said over my shoulder to the guys behind me. Not needing t
o be told twice, they dropped the pretense of not paying attention to what was happening and followed the girls out. Mak reached out as Colm, aka one half of Best Bromance, walked by with his sleek and slick look a bit more mussed than usual, but he was having a rough time of things lately. Understatement, actually.

  “Hey, Colm.”

  He glanced down at her hand, over to me, and I raised an eyebrow. Why in the hell was she touching him? She dropped her hand and stared up at him. “I’m sorry about your parents. They submitted one of those senior ads for you for the yearbook with baby pictures and stuff and a note. I didn’t know if you wanted to see it. Or if you wanted us to leave it in or take it out. We can do whatever you want.” Her voice was soft and gentle. It was probably the nicest she’d ever sounded.

  “Just—” Colm covered his mouth with his fist and cleared his throat. “Just leave it. It’s fine.” He waved his hand like it was no big deal, but I still got one of those sharp aches right in my chest.

  His parents had died in a car crash six months ago. Everyone thought the kids at Rittenhouse Prep had everything, and a lot of them did, but that didn’t mean life didn’t find a way to body slam us when we least expected it. It sucked that great parents like his could be snatched away when shitty ones like mine and Heath’s were still allowed to roam the Earth.

  “Okay, I will.” Mak nodded as Colm hustled from the room looking incredibly uncomfortable like he did whenever any of us tried to bring up what happened. He stopped in the doorway and peered back at me.

  “You want me to wait, Dec?”

  I glanced from him to Mak and shook my head. Handling her would be no issue.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Come on, man. Let’s go!” Ford and Colm disappeared from the doorway. The door slammed close with the thud of a coffin closing.

 
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