Making the Cut (16 page)

This really was shaping up to be the best summer of his life.

He rose with the rest of the players as they continued
to applaud.

His mom and grandparents greeted him at the door.

“You’re going to have to hose him off,” his grandma said. “Didn’t they let you take showers at this camp?”

He kissed his grandparents. “Sorry, Grandma. I didn’t have a lot of time to do laundry.”

“I’m not that fussy,” his mom said. “Give me a hug.”

She put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheeks. “I missed my little boy.”

“Not so little,” his grandpa said. “I think you grew a few inches in the two weeks you were gone.”

“Did you get enough to eat?” his grandma asked.

“We didn’t starve.”

“I bet you could use a snack,” his mom said.

He grinned. “Maybe a little something.”

“Come into the kitchen and tell us all about the camp,” she said.

“Where’s Danielle?” he asked.

“My goodness,” his mom said. “Home less than a minute and you want to see your sister.”

“I kinda got her a present and wanted to give it to her.”

“She’s in the back playing soccer with Hannah. Go say hi and tell them to come in for a snack too.”

He grabbed a bag from his knapsack and hurried to the backyard. Danielle was playing goalie, while Hannah, her best friend, fired away.

“Take it easy on her,” he called from the deck. “Goalie can’t stop nothin’.”

“Hey, Charlie’s back!” Danielle squealed.

The two girls came running over.

“So what’s in the bag?” Danielle asked, a big smile on her face.

Charlie laughed. “Not even a hello high-five?”

They each raised a hand and he slapped them both in one motion.

“Okay, so what’s in the bag?” Danielle giggled.

“A few things,” he announced. “I figured Hannah would be here, so I doubled up on these.”

He pulled out two enormous lollipops.

Hannah gasped. “Thanks, Charlie. They’re like the size of my head.”

In no time the girls had the wrappers off.

“Didn’t you say you had a few things in the bag?” Danielle said.

“I did. Danielle, close your eyes.”

She covered her eyes with both hands.

“Follow instructions,” he said good-naturedly. “I can see you peeking between your fingers. Now, hold out your hands.”

His mom and grandparents had come out on the deck. He gave her the bag.

“Wow, cool!” Danielle exclaimed. “Look, mom, a Northern University hockey sweater! It’s like the real thing … NHL quality. I love it!”

“Put it on, Danny,” he said.

“Very cool, D,” Hannah said.

Everyone looked at her.

“You can all stop staring at me like I got chocolate sauce all over my face.”

That got a good laugh.

“Why don’t you three come in?” his mom said. “I’ve got some muffins and croissants.”

“Yum!” Danielle shrieked, racing inside with Hannah trailing closely behind.

“That was very nice of you,” his mom said as they were on their way back into the house. “Those jerseys cost a lot.”

“I saved up some money from working this year at the café, and thought she’d like it.”

“Weren’t you saving up for a new long board?” his grandpa asked.

“A little bit … no big deal. I’ve got the rest of the summer to make it back. And Danielle deserved something special for giving up her drama camp.”

“Come on,” his mom said. “Let’s join the girls before they finish everything off.”

Charlie agreed gratefully, and was soon telling them all about the camp, careful to leave out the problems Corey had caused. He did tell them about Corey’s dad,
however.

“So many parents live through their children,” his mom said, “and put so much pressure on them that their kids quit playing.”

“It’s worse than that for Corey,” Charlie said. “He’s too afraid of his dad to ever stop. His dad’s gonna freak if Corey doesn’t get drafted into Junior or get a scholarship, and I really don’t think he’s good enough.”

The phone rang and Danielle leapt up to get it. She handed it to him.

“It’s a girl — Julia.”

Charlie felt himself go beet red. “Hello?” he said tentatively.

It was Pudge. Danielle’s mouth was full, and she was laughing so hard bits of croissant were spilling out. “I’ll get you for that, little sister,” Charlie joked. He spoke quickly to Pudge and hung up.

“Two questions, Mom. First question is: Can I go to Pudge’s cottage next week? I had to cancel on him because of the camp and …”

“No problem, Charlie. That would be fun.”

“And … the second question is …” He took a deep breath. “Is it okay if I go to The Hill with Pudge and maybe Scott, Nick and Zachary?”

His mom leaned back in her chair. “You’ve been home for what — an hour? — and …”

“I know, Mom. Sorry. It’s just that everyone’s going off to summer camps or cottages and stuff. This is like the last time we’ll hang out all together until school.”

His mom raised both eyebrows.

“We’re gonna go out and play,” Danielle said, as she stuffed more croissant into her mouth. She and Hannah charged out the back door.

His mom sighed. “I guess we’ve had enough family time.”

His grandparents started to laugh. “Welcome to the teen years,” his grandma said.

“So, is it okay?” Charlie asked.

“Of course. Dinner’s at six.”

“I’ll be back.”

“If it’s on time, that’ll be a first,” his mom said.

“One thing I learned at hockey camp is the importance of punctuality. No more being late for this kid.”

He hurried up the stairs to get his gear and headed out the door.

His friends were already at the top of The Hill when he arrived.

“Sorry guys. Had the grandparents over and stuff.”

“Just got here myself,” Nick said. “Parents weren’t keen on me taking off either.”

“You guys should try my method,” Scott said. “I throw a tantrum until my parents are so ashamed they beg me to go.”

“Dude, you are downright scary sometimes,” Nick said.

“It’s starting to concern me too,” Scott said.

Charlie spotted a familiar figure approaching.

“Yo! Pudge. What’s up?” Charlie said. They high-fived.

“How was camp?” Pudge said a bit shyly.

“Would it be too bogus for me to say it was over-the-top awesome?”

“It would make me a bit jealous, but I can deal.”

Nick and Scott came over.

“Is Charlie telling you about how I totally out-skilled everyone at camp, and the coaches told me I was the best player they’d ever seen?” Scott said.

“He hasn’t had time to fill me in on everything — but I’m sure he will … eventually.”

“Who’s ready to ride?” Zachary said, pulling up beside them.

“I’m game,” Charlie said.

Zachary looked down at his board. “I thought you said you’d raised the cash for new wheels?”

“Not quite there yet. I’ll have it in a month or two.”

“Let’s do a train,” Zachary said. “Charlie, you’re in behind me and hold on tight. The rest of you grab on.”

“That seems a perfectly appropriate way to kill ourselves. Black Beauty and me are in,” Scott said, patting his board.

“We’re with ya,” Nick and Pudge chorused.

Zachary rolled off, popped an ollie and did a nose grind to stop.

“You’re right, Scott. We’ve lived long enough,” Charlie said, grabbing hold of the back of Zachary’s shirt.

Charlie heard voices coming towards them. He recognized one — Jake’s. As if he hadn’t had enough of that guy.

Jake stopped talking when he spotted them.

“You guys go ahead. We’re in no hurry,” Jake said.

Charlie was confused — no insult, no challenge, no sarcasm? But he wasn’t about to stick around and question it.

“Let’s do this,” he said, pushing Zachary forward.

Pudge grabbed his shirt, and Nick and Scott followed. They moved slowly at first, snaking down the hill to build momentum, until the first corner when they really got going.

Charlie crouched lower on his board and leaned into the turn, the wind whipping through his hair.

“Not fast enough, boys! Time to fly!” he shouted.

Want to read more about Charlie Joyce and his teammates?

Check out this excerpt from

the exciting fourth book in the Game Time series!

Charlie Joyce cradled the puck at the left hash marks. With the man advantage, he wanted to take his time and set it up properly. He faked a pass to the point to force the winger higher, then curled down low towards the corner. His linemates recognized the play and jumped into action; they had practised it a hundred times. Zachary Jackson, his right winger, peeled off from in front of the net and headed to the opposite corner. Charlie banked the puck off the back wall onto his stick. His other winger, Pudge Moretti, stormed the net to occupy a defender, using his powerful frame to get close to the goalie.

The Rebels’ left defenceman, Spencer Bowman, a smooth-skating offensive star, was new to the team this season. He cut decisively into the high slot to force the winger to cover him. Charlie circled to the blue line. Zachary faked a pass to Spencer, then slid the puck to the right point where Nick Katsopoulos, a wizard with the puck in his own right, took it easily, raised his stick for a slapshot to freeze the centre who had come out to pressure him, and passed it across to Charlie.

Pudge pushed against the defender, exposing the bottom left corner of the net. It was a perfect screen. Charlie didn’t hesitate, sending a laser-like one-timer on net.

The crowd let out a roar — another Rebels goal!

Charlie loved to score; what player doesn’t? But there would be greater challenges this season than getting the seventh goal in a 6–0 game. The Tornadoes were the worst team in the league.

Nick held his glove out. “Personally, I would have blasted the puck under the crossbar, just a fraction of a centimetre off the post,” he said, “but I guess a shot to the bottom corner when the goalie is completely screened is good enough for you.”

“I take ’em any way I can,” Charlie said.

Spencer tapped his shin pads. “Third power-play goal this period,” he said. “Tornadoes might wanna think of playing by the rules.”

“This is fun, dudes,” Zachary said. He and Charlie punched gloves.

Pudge patted Charlie on the helmet.

“The screen made it easy,” Charlie said to his left winger and best friend. “It was your goal more than mine.”

Pudge laughed. “I already told the ref to give it to me. Anyone can shoot one-timers from the point. It takes real talent to stand in front of the net like a statue.”

They went to the bench for a change. Scott Slatsky jumped over the boards. He was Nick’s defence partner, but lately Spencer had taken his place on the power play. Scott was a stay-at-home defender, and one of the best in the league. He was also too good-natured to mind. But this time he was shaking his head and didn’t look at all happy.

“What’s up?” Charlie asked him.

“It took you thirty-two seconds to score,” he said. “That’s not acceptable. Coach Hilton’s so nice he won’t say something, so I have to. We all know the Rebels won their first four games of the season because of me. So if we’re going to remain undefeated, you’re going to have to pass to me all the time — and I should be captain — and probably coach. I guess I’m just an all-around awesome player.”

Charlie sighed. Would he ever learn not to take Scott seriously?

Nick looked taken by surprise. “I didn’t know you were on the team,” he said. “When did you join the Rebels?”

“Last season,” Scott said.

“Weird. What position?”

“Defence. I’m with you.”

Nick shrugged. “You must be really useless because I don’t think you’ve ever touched the puck.”

They skated to the blue line for the draw, while Charlie took a seat on the bench next to Pudge. Charlie grabbed a water bottle and took a long sip. The cold water burned the back of his throat. Like Zachary said, this was fun. He was playing with his buds, on maybe the strongest team in the league. Last year had been a struggle with only ten players. But winning the championship had attracted some attention. Spencer and his defence partner Philip rounded out the defence, which, with the twins, Christopher and Rob, gave them three great pairings. Nazem, Brandon and Will formed a
potent new line, so now the Rebels had three forward lines capable of scoring.

Coach Hilton tapped him on the shoulder. “I liked the puck movement,” he said. “Nice read to move to the point.” He leaned closer. “Perhaps a touch faster getting it to Zachary,” he added, before moving away.

Charlie and Pudge exchanged a glance. That was classic Hilton. No matter how perfect, he always wanted more. Of course, Charlie loved him for that. He was the best coach in the league — at least in Charlie’s opinion — and a great English teacher too. Charlie had him for grade ten at Terrence Falls High School.

Matt’s line had taken the ice, with Dylan on the right and Jonathon on the left. Nick whipped the puck cross ice to Scott, who one-timed it to Matt, cutting hard to open space. He took it on his backhand and slipped in between the Tornadoes’ front line. Dylan came off his wing and Matt snapped a pass to him. He took it without breaking stride, and beat the Tornadoes’ right defenceman to the outside. The other defenceman came over to cut him off, and Dylan flipped the puck over his stick to Matt streaking up ice. Matt took two steps and blasted the puck from the slot. The goalie did not even move.

CLANG
.

“I can’t believe that,” Pudge said, slapping the top of the boards. “That’s the third post he’s hit this game.”

“Let him save the goals for our next game against the Wildcats,” Zachary said. “These dudes are done.”

Jonathon and a Tornadoes defender battled for possession in the right corner.

Charlie couldn’t agree with Zachary more. The
Rebels had played the Wildcats in the finals last year. Jake Wilkenson was their captain, and Charlie’s least favourite person in the world.

“The Wildcats should’ve been suspended from the league,” Pudge said. “Coach Schultz pulls his team off the ice — in the finals no less — and he’s allowed to keep coaching? Crazy.”

“He’s been coaching a long time,” Zachary said. “He’s got friends.”

“What he’s got is problems,” Charlie said, grinning, “because his team’s gotta play the Rebels.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” Zachary said, and they punched gloves.

Charlie looked up in time to see Matt lift the puck over the Tornadoes’ fallen goalie.

“Finally,” Zachary said. “The curse has lifted.”

“Change ’em up,” Hilton called out.

Charlie shifted down. He could hardly wait to get back out. He felt a little bad for the Tornadoes, though. At this rate, the game would end 15–0.

“Let’s not try too hard to score,” Charlie said to his linemates. “This game is out of control.” They both nodded. “I’ll tell the others,” he added.

As captain Charlie figured it was his responsibility. As cool as it was to be winning, the Rebels were not show-offs, and he did not want them to turn into that kind of team.