Zoe Reed - Interference

All Rights Reserved

Copyright 2014 by Zoe Reed

ISBN-13: 978-1500838546

I SBN-10: 1500838543

www.facebook.com/Author.ZoeReed

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Acknowledgements

I know Ive said this before, but the people responsible for this book are the readers. Especially those of you who read it the first time around on Fictionpress, and offered an overwhelming amount of feedback and support. Keeping creative momentum isnt always easy, but the encou ragement you guys give helps me push through the moments when inspiration is hard to come by.

Special thanks this time to two people who made sure you guys are getting the best possible material in this novel. My stepmom, Anissa thank you so much for offering your knowledge and expertise with certain aspects of the novel. And last but not least, to my good friend, Socoya. You have my eternal gratitude for all the wonderful advice, and for talking me through my indecisiveness or uncertainty.

To Jesse Hayward, whose battle with cancer took him far too soon,

I cant thank you enough . Rest easy, my friend.

Interference

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13.

Chapter 14.

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16.

Chapter 17.

Chapter 18.

Chapter 19.

Chapter 20. 237

Chapter 21.

Chapter 22.

Chapter 23.

Chapter 24.

Chapter 25.

Chapter 26.

Chapter 27.

Chapter 28.

Chapter 29.

Chapter 30.

Chapter 31.

Chapter 32.

Chapter 33.

Chapter 34.

Chapter 35.

Chapter 36.

Chapter 37.

September 3

Another glance at the tied up scoreboard told me there were only nine minutes left in the last period of the game. The other team had called timeout, and now everyone was just standing around the bench, waiting for the referees to blow the whistle and signal that the game was ready to start again. As I leaned with my elbows over the boards and stared down at the tiled rink below my borrowed skates, a movement on the left caught my eye, and a second later my best friend, Victoria, bumped me with her hip. Through the steel cage of her helmet she gave me a knowing smile, and then turned around to lean her back against the boards.

So, J, what do you think? she asked me as she pulled at her jersey, which read Cyclones on the front, and because of the sweat had begun to stick to her stomach.

I turned to mirror her position, and glanced out over the rink before answering, I wish youd told me this was a tournament.

Victoria and I had been friends since grade school. Normally she and some of the other girls that were hovering around the boards played scrimmage games at an ice rink nearby. She was the one whod taught me to skate, and since shed always played hockey Id always hung around and, more often than not, joined in on the pickup games. Even though they usually practiced at an ice rink, roller hockey was the first love for each of them. When Victoria had called me this morning telling me her team needed an extra player, I thought shed meant for a scrimmage. Little did I know that her and the other players had rallied together a bunch of extra inline gear for me to sub in at this tournament.

Its just a small tourney, she justified, blue eyes betraying her inte rnal laughter as she absentmindedly slid the blade of her hockey stick across the floor.

I rolled my eyes before both of our gazes drifted to the world outside the boards. There were three rinks at this outdoor facility, each one occupied by a tournament game. After already playing five games throughout the day wed made it to the championship, and this was the last womens game of the weekend. Still, the stands of each rink were filled, with more people standing along the outside to watch through the glass. Loud music could be heard filtering over the boards from the booth of a radio station that had showed up just for the occasion, and plenty more display booths lined the walkways between rinks to occupy the hoards of people who werent watching a game. It may have been a small tournament by Victorias standards, but for the first real game Id ever played, it was pretty damn big.

Hey, Jordan. The coach tapped me on the shoulder to get my atte ntion, so I turned to look at him, eagerly awaiting any advice he could offer. Dont look so nervous, he laughed. Youre doing good, I just need you to do one thing for me. I nodded, patiently waiting for the tip. Youre fast and youve got good hands, use it to get goals instead of penalties, okay?

My cheeks colored red, but I laughed anyway. That was his advice? Sure, Id played more than enough scrimmage games with the team to be able to hold my own in a high level tournament, but I didnt have the e xperience to know what kind of hits were considered dirty or not, especially since you couldnt check in roller hockey like you could in ice hockey. For that, Id earned two penalties. One more and Id get kicked out. So maybe his advice was pretty sage.

One of the refs blew his whistle and made his way down the rink to the right faceoff circle near our goal. Along with the other players, I pushed myself off the boards and coasted to the circle, taking my place on the hash mark just outside it. One of the other teams forwards took the spot directly in front of me, practically placing the blade of her stick on top of mine. Before leaning over into position, I scanned each of the pla yers on the rink. Even after only two periods, Id learned which players on the other team to look out for which ones were the goal scorers and which ones were most likely to take my head off and get away with it.

Another thing Id had to adjust to after playing so many ice games with Victoria was the number of players on the rink in a roller game. Id always assumed five and a goalie was standard, but in these inline games I learned the number was reduced to four and a goalie. It came as a bit of a shock at first, but I couldnt say I minded. Less players on the rink meant less people to watch out for. It also meant there was more room to skate and pull off stunts that were harder to do during an ice game.

The referee pointed at the other teams goalie on the far end of the rink and, receiving a nod, looked to our goalie. When she nodded too he held the black puck over the faceoff circle, and a second later dropped it. The two players sticks clashed in the center for only a moment before the puck went flying to one of the other teams defenders, who was waiting near the boards at the middle of the rink. The second she felt it hit her stick she received it and sent it across to the defender on the opposite side. I was already on my way to the second player that received the puck, and by the time she got it I was nearly three quarters of the way there.

She held the puck on her blade, cradling it near the boards with her eyes darting from me to the other players on her team, waiting for either someone to open up for a pass or for me to get there so she could try to skate around me. It was clear by the speed Id already picked up that I was going to get to her first. Goals, not penalties, I reminded myself as I neared striking distance. The look on her face said she thought I was going to hit her, and her body tensed when I drew near. Instead, I stretched my stick across her body to hers, and hit the puck backwards as I flew by her.

Id hit the puck hard enough to knock it over her stick, and I picked it up as I continued with it, alone, toward the other teams goalie. The goalie coasted forward, squaring up and making herself large in the net. I was at the top of the circles in front of the net now, so I brought my stick back with the puck and cruised left. The goalie followed my every move, shifting to the side with me. Finally, with a flick of my wrist I released the puck, but instead of sending it to the left side of the net like Id been lined up to do, I angled my stick to shoot at the top right corner. My breath nearly caught in my throat as it sailed through the air, and then I sighed with disappointment when it hit the post with a loud ding, which deflected it up into the safety net above the boards.