Behind The Boards

The meeting room smells like coffee, sweat, and adrenaline. Posters of the Northgate Titans line the walls, the same team I’ve followed since I was old enough to skate.

Twelve players fill the long conference table, all half-turned toward the glowing screen at the front. The head coach, gray-haired and sharp-eyed, is running through a new offensive play. At the end of the table sits Liam Hale, team captain, posture relaxed, expression unreadable, confidence radiating like heat off the ice.

I stand awkwardly near the doorway, clutching my folder. It’s my first hour as an intern for the athletic department, and I’ve already been pulled into a strategy meeting by mistake.

“You’re the new assistant?” the coach asks, barely glancing my way.

“Yes, sir. Clara Rivers.”

“Good. Sit. Observe. Don’t interrupt.”

I nod quickly, cheeks flushing as I slip into a chair near the back. The players start discussing the play, a triangle rotation meant to fake out defenders. But something’s wrong. I can see it immediately.

The setup leaves the left wing wide open, any decent team will exploit that gap.

Liam leans forward, tapping a pen against the table. “Coach, I think the rotation breaks too early. We’ll lose momentum on the left side.”

The coach shakes his head. “We’ve tested it. It works.”

Liam’s jaw tightens. “It didn’t in last night’s scrimmage.”

The tension builds. I bite my tongue — it’s not my place. I’m the intern, not a strategist.

But then the coach sighs. “Unless one of you has a better idea…”

Before I can stop myself, I speak.

“You need a trailing winger to close the pocket on the left,” I say quietly.

Every head turns.

“If your center feints to the right and your left wing loops back through the neutral zone, you’ll pull the defense out of position. It keeps the rotation tight and forces the goalie to guard blindside.”

A long beat of silence.

The coach blinks. “You play?”

“I… used to. I study tape.”

Liam’s eyes narrow, sharp, curious. “That adjustment… that’s exactly what we’ve been missing.” He leans back, a slow grin spreading. “You just fixed a problem that’s been killing us for two weeks.”

The coach crosses his arms, studying me. Then, to Liam, “Captain, what do you think?”

Liam doesn’t hesitate. “I think we should hire her.”

Laughter ripples through the room, but the coach doesn’t smile. Instead, he nods once.

“You’re in, Miss Rivers. Assistant strategist. Effective immediately.”

I blink. “Wait—what?”

“Congratulations,” Liam says, standing to offer his hand. His grip is warm, confident. “Welcome to the Titans, Clara Rivers, the girl who knew the ice before she ever stepped on it.”

My heart stutters. I shake his hand and when we both let go he turns to all the guys who are now on their feet.

“Let’s introduce you to everyone. I’m Liam Hale, captain, and center, number nine.” His confidence radiating off of him. His blond hair and bright blue eyes make me weak in the knees but I have to focus on the team not the golden boy. So I turn to the next player.

“Aiden Torres, left wing, and number seventeen.”

“Kai Morgan, right wing, and number eleven.”

“Noah Park, defense-D1, and number four.”

“Theo Jensen but you can call me Bear, defense - D2, and number twenty-nine.”

“Mason Holt, goalie, number one.”

“Even Reed, backup goalie, number thirty.”

“Jax Boudreaux, forward and second line center, number twenty-three.”

“Tyler Kim, left defense and power play specialist, number forty-four.”

“Dylan Ross, right wing and enforcer, number twenty-seven.”

“Then there is Coach Mark ‘Iron’ Reddick.” Jordan says. I already know everyone but it’s nice to put a face to a name. “I’m assistant coach, Jordan Vega.”

“Now there is you, Clara Rivers, team manager.” Liam says with a smirk. I can feel my cheeks grow red but I try to keep my chin held high, not showing fear.

“I loved the introduction and to put faces to names but I already know everyone.” I say with as much confidence as possible.

“Oh? Really?” Liam’s smirk grows as he sits up against the table with his arms folded against his chest. “Enlighten us.”

“Ok.” I say stepping forward. “Well. Liam Hale, team captain and center. Confident, focused, strategic, a the heart of the Titans but cocky and has an ego that is suffocating. Then Aiden Torres, fast, reckless, and charming.” The guys let out a small chuckle while some give Aiden a punch on the shoulder. “Kai Morgan, quiet sniper type and lethal shot accuracy. Doesn’t talk much but when he does, it’s gold. Noah Park, analytical, calm, and unofficial ’tactician’ amount you guys. Bear Jensen also first name Theo. Massive guy, pure intimidation in the ice, but a soft teddy bear off it.”

“I take pride in that.” Bear says.

“As you should. Next is Mason Holt. Cocky, dramatic, and hilarious-self-proclaimed ‘team MVP’.”

“How the fuck do you know all this?” Mason asks.

“I’m not done yet. Evan Reed, chill, sarcastic, great with media interviews. Then there is Jax Boudreaux who is French-Canadian, flirtatious, and smooth talking but deadly serious in games.”

“You got that right, cutie.” Jax pops off while others whistle in approval.

“Tyler Kin… youngest player on the team being nineteen. Then Dylan Ross. Ross here is hot-headed, protective, and always first to throw a punch when his teammates are threatened. Now I could go on about Coach and Jordan but I don’t wanna bore you guys.”

“No no no, you have all our attentions. Keep going.” Liam says, trying to make me nervous but I chuckle.

“Ok, Captain. Coach Reddick is gruff, brilliant, and respected. Jordan is young, energetic, and more approachable than Coach Reddick. Sorry Coach.”

“It’s fine. But am I really not that approachable?”

Sorry Coach but yeah.” Liam confesses but is quick to snap his attention back to me. “What about you?”

“Sorry?” I say with a confused look.

“Come on, what about you? What makes Clara Rivers tick?” Liam has stopped leaning in the table and is now standing right infront of me. He is so much bigger than I am. About 6’1 and 250 lbs of pure muscle. His golden hair, slightly tousled, always looking like he just left the gym or a magazine shoot. His eyes are ice-blue, sharp and impossible to read. Now that I can see him up close I notice he has a small scar along his chiseled jaw line. Probable from a game injury. “You wanna know what I have gathered? You’re cocky, stubborn, and too damn confident.”

“Liam, that’s enough.” Coach demands but Liam doesn’t back down.

“But… that’s exactly what the team needs. Let me ask you this, Rivers, do you always correct your bosses in day one?”

“Guess you just found out for yourself, Hale.” I say with a fake smile. Suddenly Coach is right next to us. “Sorry Coach.”

“No need to be sorry, Liam here needed to be knocked down a couple notches.” Coach says clapping Liam on the back before turn to the team whose jaws are on the floor. “Everyone is dismissed.”

“Coach…” Liam says confused. His brows furrowing.

“Out, Hale.”

“Whatever, I’ll see you tomorrow for practice.” Liam says to coach before storming out with everyone following behind him. Except Tyler.

“Hey, Rivers, I just wanna say sorry for Liam. He doesn’t do well with-“

“People challenging his authority?”

“Yeah.” He says with a chuckle, Tyler is only 5’10 and 185 lbs. he’s compact and explosive on the ice. “Look, we have an extra room left in the Titan’s house if you wanna get out of the dorms.”

“Thank you for the offer but I have a nice little apartment just down the street. Abut the gesture was so sweet Tyler, thank you.”

“It’s really great to have you on the team.” Glee says before leaving with a smile. Tyler has jet-black hair with a soft undercut, his eyes are a dark brown that are expressive. I think that’s why he made a little place in my heart even though that was our first encounter.

Coach follows Tyler out, leaving me in the empty room with plays in every board. I wish dad could have seen this, me. I made it. I suddenly pick up the eraser and start erasing a diagram when Coach Reddick’s reflection appears in the glass behind her.

“You’ve got a hell of an eye for the game,” he says.

“Thank you, Coach,” i reply, polite but cautious.

“You didn’t learn that from watching on TV.”

My hand freezes mid-swipe. Slowly, i turn to face him. He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, the way he does when he’s about to call someone out.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she says carefully.

He steps closer, eyes sharp but not unkind.

“Don’t insult me, Rivers. I’ve been in this business longer than you’ve been alive. That play you corrected today? I’ve only seen one other person design something like that — the anonymous analyst who’s been feeding us those miracle plays for two seasons. The one who signs off as L. Rivers.”

My breath catches. The marker drops from my hand, hitting the tile. He lets the silence hang for a beat.

Then he adds quietly. “You didn’t think I’d notice? You’ve been in the system from day one, helping me build this team from the shadows.”

I look down, my throat tight.

“I didn’t want to be seen as someone who bought her way in. I wanted to earn it.”

Coach exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

“You already did. Hell, half the plays that got us to Nationals came from you. But hiding who you are? That’s gonna catch up to you — especially with Hale.”

My head snaps up. “Liam?”

“He’s sharp. He’ll figure it out sooner or later. And when he does, if it doesn’t come from you, it’s gonna feel like betrayal.”

I swallow hard, trying to steady my voice. “You think he’ll care who owns the team?”

Reddick gives me a long, knowing look. “No. He’ll care that you didn’t trust him enough to tell him.” He turns toward the door, then pauses. “You’ve got talent, Rivers, the kind people write stories about. But talent doesn’t mean much if you spend your life hiding behind a different name.”

He leaves me there, staring at the empty rink beyond the window. The ice gleams under the lights, smooth and cold, a mirror, showing her the reflection she’s been avoiding: L. Rivers — the ghost behind the game.

And somewhere in the arena, i can still hear Liam’s laugh echo faintly through the halls.

He has no idea.

Not yet.