ICEBREAKER RIVALS

JAKE

Blue Angels 2.

Red hawks 2.

Halftime.

I yanked my helmet off and slammed it against the bench.

“Easy, White,” Carter muttered. “It’s tied.”

“Shouldn’t be.” I snickered.

Across the rink, the Blue Angels skated towards their bench in neat formation . Clean passes. Clean lines. Clean little halos over their heads. At the front was Isaac Lim. Captain Perfect. He didn’t look winded. Didn’t look pissed. Didn’t even look impressed. I hated that.

He glanced over, our eyes met. And there it was — that small, almost invisible smirk.

“ You’re so predictable. “ I murmured under my breath.

I shoved off the boards and skated towards the centre before Coach could start barking strategy. If Isaac Lim wanted to look, I’d give him something to look at.

“Lose your edge out there, White?” one of the Blue Angels players called. I think it was their defenseman — number 22. “Or is this your max speed?”

“Didn’t know you could talk with Lim’s stick down your throat.” A few Red Hawks snorted behind me.

Number 22 bristled. “At least our captain doesn’t spend more time in the penalty box than on the ice.” Stifled laughs came from behind him.

“Careful, White,” he said evenly. “You’re one penalty away from sitting out the rest of the game.” His voice was smooth. I pushed closer until there was barely a stick’s length between us.

“Worried about me?” I asked. His eyes were dark. Annoyingly steady. “Worried about the integrity of the game.”

God, I wanted to wipe that calm right off his face. “You mean the integrity of your win?” I said. “Don’t worry, Lim. I’ll make it interesting.”

“You already do,” he said quietly.

The whistle blew before I could decide if that was an insult. We broke apart. But as I skated back towards the locker room tunnel, I could feel it. This wasn’t just another rivalry game.

The locker room smelled of sweat, metal, and frustration. Someone kicked a bench. Someone else swore under their breath. Coach hadn’t come in yet, which meant he was either furious or planning on yelling. I dropped onto the bench and started untying my skates.

Carter threw a towel at my head. “You’re going to get called for roughing if you keep staring at Lim like that.” “I wasn’t staring.”

“You were calculating homicide.” I smirked. “Different.”

The door swung open. But it wasn’t just Coach. There was a man in a charcoal suit behind him and a woman holding a tablet. No one from a regular season game dressed like that. The room went quiet fast.

Coach didn’t yell. That’s how I knew it was bad. “Listen up,” he said. “Halftime just got more important.”

I leaned back against the lockers. The woman stepped forward. “I’m Ms. Alvarez from NorthSter Athletic.” The NorthSter. The sportswear company that sponsored junior leagues. That signed college prospects. That bankrolled development programs. Every guy in this room straightened.

“We’ve been monitoring regional rivalries,” she continued. “Blue Angels versus Red Hawks consistently produces top-tier athletes.” No one breathed.

“Tonight’s game isn’t just a rivalry match anymore.”

Coach folded his arms. “Scouts from NorthSter have been in the stands since puck drop.”

The room exploded. “What?" “You’re kidding.” “Since when?” My pulse spiked. Scouts? Watching that first period? Watching me nearly slam number 22 into the boards?

Ms. Alvarez raised her voice slightly. “At the end of this game, selected players from both teams will be invited to join a newly formed elite squad. Sponsored and trained by NorthSter.”

My stomach tightened. “We’re merging talent,” she said. “The chosen athletes will represent NorthSter in the national youth circuit.” National. That’s college-level exposure. That’s scholarships. That’s everything.

Coach looked around the room. “Second half isn’t about pride anymore. It’s about proving you belong in that line-up.” Carter leaned towards me. “You’ve got this.” But my mind was already doing the math. If they’re picking from both teams…Isaac Lim was getting selected. Of course he was. Clean record. Disciplined. Captain. Scout dream.

And if I got selected too? We’d be— No. They wouldn’t. Would they?

“The selected players will train together starting next month.” A murmur rolled through the room.

Across every damn rivalry headline for the last three years and now possibly on the same ice.

Coach clapped once. “ You’ve got twenty minutes to show them who you are.” He looked at me when he said it. A warning.

I stood slowly. If scouts were watching…then I couldn’t afford a penalty. But the idea of skating beside Isaac Lim instead of against him? It made a hot twist in my chest.

Let them watch. I’ll give them a show. And if Lim ended up on that roster with me? He better be ready. Because I didn’t share the spotlight.

The game ended in a draw.Results would be delivered to each school separately by the end of the week.

After a whole week of waiting.The list dropped at 3:17 p.m. “You’ve been selected,” Coach said simply. He handed me the paper. I scanned it fast.

Northster Elite Youth Roster — Regional Division

Jake White

Carter Hayes

Mason Ivers

Daniel Cho

Carter punched my shoulder. “Told you.” I nodded, but I was already searching further down the page. Because if I was here — There. Isaac Lim. Of course, he made it.

Coach cleared his throat. “Training camp starts Monday. Two months residential program. Full-time.”

The room shifted. “Residential?” Carter repeated.

“Yes,” Coach said. “Northster wants cohesion. You’ll live at their training facility.”

“With who?” someone asked. Coach flipped the page. “Room assignments are randomized. You’ll receive them by email tonight.”

My stomach tightened for no reason at all. It was a big roster. There are plenty of players.

By 9:42 p.m., I was staring at my inbox .

Northster Residential Assignment — Confidential

Welcome to the Northster Elite Program.

Training begins Monday. Arrival 8:00 a.m.

Room Allocation: Unit 3B

Occupants: Jake White and Isaac Lim

The room tilted. Maybe there was another Isaac Lim in the region. Yeah, right.

I called Carter immediately. “Tell me you’re in 3B,” I said when he answered.

“I’m in 2A,” he said slowly. “With Mason.” “Who’ve you got?”

I leaned back against my wall and stared at the ceiling. “Lim.”

Carter made a noise between choking and hysterical laughter. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish.”

“Oh this is — oh, this is cinematic.” “

I’m hanging up.”

“You’re going to murder each other.”