“Fuck!” Garrett yelled as his back slammed back against the glass, glaring at the St. Anthony player. He watched the player glide across the ice before chasing after him.

Fights weren’t his cup of tea. Being captain of Briar’s team, he stood as a standard and example of discipline. But also being a college student with pent up anger playing against his school’s rival, one push was enough to let that mask slip a bit.

Garrett grabbed his helmet, stripping it off before throwing it down on the ice. He grabbed the player, pushing him on the safety glass. He was able to throw out a few profanities before the referee and a few teammates removed the captain off the shaken up player.

Like the reasonable part of him expected, the referee yelled at him that he was ejected. His eyes locked onto his coach, the scowl still evident on his face. Coach Jensen pulled him aside into the box, a look of disappointment painting him. “What is going on with you, kid?” He berated over the yells of surroundings fans. Yet, beyond his confusion and frustration there was worry.

It was rare for Garrett to lash out at all. Even when he did, it’s for a viable reason. But never over a simple shove. Hockey was a physical and most of the time violent game— hence why some of the players even are on the team. So a simple shove and push was common.

He would be lying though if he said it was nothing. It wasn’t just the shove. And it definitely wasn’t just any player. The player was the one who happened to be at his fraternity’s party, getting handsy with people. One of those people being you.

Openly aware that you were in the audience, watching over the big screen, looking at his furious face before it switched back to the game. Garrett only turned his head down towards his lap, clenching his fist. “Nothing.” He grumbled to Jensen, his jaw flexing along with his hands.