Dare You to Catfish the Hockey Player (Rock Valley High Book 6) Read online

  Dare You to Catfish the Hockey Player

  BOOK SIX

  in the Rock Valley High series

  LACY ANDERSEN

  DARE YOU TO CATFISH THE HOCKEY PLAYER

  Copyright 2021 by Lacy Andersen

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dare You to Catfish the Hockey Player (Rock Valley High, #6)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Excerpt from Cowboy Crush

  About the Author

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  Chapter 1

  Girls can’t game.

  That was written on the note I’d found shoved in my backpack during the eight grade after I’d gotten my very first Playstation for Christmas. Those words, hastily written on wide-ruled notebook paper, were inked like tattoos on the back of my eyelids. Every time I went to sleep, or dozed off in class, I’d see that scrawled handwriting. It was meant to scare me away.

  It was a good thing I didn’t scare easily.

  “Can’t you take it easy for a second, Beth? Give a bro a chance.”

  My friend Joe lay back on the bean bag chair and gave a pathetic little kick of his leg as I maneuvered my Mortal Kombat player with an impressive button combination that slaughtered his warrior with a resounding KO!

  A string of curses fell from his lips when the screen in front of us flashed and his character fell to the ground in a useless heap. “Okay, that officially stunk.”

  “Better luck next time, Joey.” I did my best to smile sympathetically at him, but the competitive gamer inside of me was leaking out. “We could always go another round, if you’re up for it.”

  “What’s the use?” Joe threw his head back dramatically and sighed. “You know you’re going to win. You always win. Even when I cheat.”

  I grinned at him. Joe Brewer was two years behind me at Rock Valley High and one of the few guys who would still play with me. He was a bit pudgy in the middle and had round cheeks, which was probably why he constantly liked to remind anyone who would listen that he just hadn’t lost the baby fat yet. He was always trying to pull one over on me, but Joe had yet to beat me in this game or any other. It wasn’t his fault. I was just that good.

  Gaming was my life. My mom said I spent more time in the virtual world than the real world. Maybe that was true, but she had no idea of the possibilities beyond the surgical room she spent all day in. In this game, I was an immortal warrior. In another, I was an elfish princess. And in another, I was a soldier in command of a troop of soldiers, out to save the world from alien invaders. Virtual reality was often better than actual reality, especially for a junior at Rock Valley High School. If anyone asked me, I would’ve told them we could skip forward to the whole graduation thing years ago.

  Not that anyone ever asked me anything.

  “Come on, Joe, let’s go another round.” I squared my shoulders toward the TV and readied myself for the next battle. Math homework could wait. I needed another win.

  Joe shook his mane of curly brown hair and leaned back to look out the open doorway into the main lobby of the Rock Valley after-school club, the permanent scent of stale popcorn and gym shoes wafting our way. This was a popular place for gamers to congregate. There were foosball tables, ping pong, computers for homework, and even tutors for anyone who needed them. But best of all was the vintage collection of gaming systems in the back room. These days, I spent most of my time gaming on my phone or computer at home, but sometimes it was fun to break loose and dominate on an old-school Nintendo.

  “They posted the tournament yet?” he asked, craning his neck.

  I shrugged, trying to maintain my cool, even as my heart rate sped up at the mention of the huge announcement all of the gamers had been waiting for. “Don’t think so. You actually gonna enter?”

  “Heck, yes! I heard a rumor that the winner gets a trip to Florida.” He grinned, stretching his fleshy arms above his head. “Imagine scoping the beach for babes all spring break. Now, that’s my kind of a grand prize.” When he caught my wry expression, he chuckled and rushed to correct himself. “I mean, imagine scoping the beach for dudes?”

  My answer was an emotionless stare in his direction.

  I swore, sometimes these guys forgot I was a girl. Just because I could hold my own in a video game... Of course, it didn’t help that I wasn’t exactly a girly girl, either. No makeup for me. Ninety percent of my closet consisted of black t-shirts. And my unruly wavy blond hair was best kept under control with a beanie. It was no wonder they all forgot. And besides, in their gaming world, there was no room for girly girls.

  Or girls in general.

  I chucked a nearby throw pillow at Joe’s head and pushed myself out of the bean bag. It didn’t make sense to dwell on it. Things would never change.

  “I think I’ll leave the dude scoping to the rest of the girls,” I said proudly.

  Scoping dudes wasn’t exactly on my to-do list. Not for the next decade, anyway. All the boys at Rock Valley High were pretty much duds. And the only good ones were dating my two amazing best friends.

  “Wait, you’re not going to enter?” Joe stared at me with eyes so wide they almost appeared cartoonish. “But why? You’re a better gamer than any of those jerks out there.”

  I smirked at him, a flash of pride warming my chest. At least somebody around here recognized that. “I know.”

  “Then, why don’t you enter?”

  With a noncommittal shrug, I tossed my remote into a nearby chair. Joe didn’t get it. He never would. None of those guys would want me in the competition. They’d all gang up against me, just to keep me out. Girls didn’t game—at least, not in their tiny world. I was much happier keeping to myself and playing random competitors on the Internet. Competitors who didn’t know who I was.

  I brushed my hands together and gave Joe a sideways glance. He’d fallen back into his bean bag as if my refusal to join the competition had mortally wounded him. “If you’re not up for another round of getting your butt kicked, let’s go check the bulletin board. I’m dying to know the prizes for this year, even if I refuse to compete.”

  A girl could dream.<
br />
  He jumped up from the chair and flashed a gap-toothed grin. “Now, you’re talking. Let’s go.”

  We left the gaming room and entered the main lobby. Sure enough, a small group of guys had gathered around the bulletin board, signaling that the tournament details had finally been posted. My pulse throbbed with anticipation.

  Maybe entering in local competitions wasn’t my thing, but I’d been waiting all day to hear about the details. The Rock Valley after-school club did a big winter gaming tournament every year. Each time, they picked a different game. Normally, the prizes were low key stuff like gift cards to the local batting cages or restaurants. Nothing crazy impressive. But this was the first time they had a legit sponsor. Some bigwig named Fred, who’d moved from Rock Valley to Silicone Valley, had donated money for his hometown competition.

  Rumors were flying about what kind of prizes would be involved. A sports car? An extreme vacation? A fully loaded new gaming system with all the bells and whistles? The thought of it could make a kid’s heart flutter.

  Not that it mattered to me. I never entered those kinds of things.

  Didn’t mean I couldn’t be a little curious, though.

  “Hey, man, they finally announce which game it’s going to be?” Joe pushed past me to join the other boys ogling the bulletin board. “Tell me it’s Borderlands. I might actually stand a chance.”

  Nearing six-foot-tall, without heels, I had no problem seeing over my little gaming buddy. My height might have been the bane of my existence, but even it came in handy once in a while. I chewed on my bottom lip and squinted at the black poster that had been tacked up since I’d arrived at the club.

  Was that...? Yes, I was pretty sure the word Battlegrounds was highlighted in neon orange letters with matching colored snowflakes surrounding it. A promise of a five-thousand dollar grand prize for the winner was underlined beneath it, charging the air around the bulletin board with nervous energy.

  A bolt of excitement went through me at the thought of this year’s battle. I couldn’t help it. Battlegrounds was only my all-time favorite game ever. It was an app-based virtual world game that traveled everywhere I went on my phone. This was going to be epic.

  I slipped my phone out of my pocket and opened up the app, pulling up the messages box. Joe wasn’t my only gaming buddy. I had one other, but we’d never met in real life. At least, not as my gaming handle. Battlescar13 was the only other guy I talked to on a daily basis and we were both obsessed with Battlegrounds. He would’ve loved to know about the tournament, but it had been a week since I’d last messaged him. Things were...complicated, to say the least. And I wasn’t sure if that friendship was even a thing anymore.

  Could you really be online friends with a guy you hated in real life?

  A guy who didn’t know your real identity?

  “Out of the way,” a gruff voice called out. “Make room for the real gamers.”

  I cringed at the sound. That voice had resonated enough times in my nightmares to give me an automatic flight or fight response. And right then, I chose flight. No need to start a fight today and dampen my excitement. But as I tried to get around a clueless Joe, Michael Corrigan appeared through the crowd, wearing the cocky grin that he rarely went anywhere without.

  “Battlegrounds? Sweet! Sounds like none of you losers are going to stand a chance this year. That prize is going straight to buying my new motorcycle.”

  He leaned in toward the poster, squinting at the small words printed underneath. His wavy dark brown hair fell into his steel gray eyes. With high cheekbones and a sharp jawline that could cut glass, Michael was often the subject of the girls’ daydreams at my school. He came packaged with an athletically-toned hockey player’s body and a height that soared even over me. But what those girls didn’t know was that behind the gorgeous smile was a cruelty that turned on anytime I came into the picture.

  It was the handwriting from his nasty note that I saw burned in my retinas every time I closed my eyes. A torn piece of paper he’d slipped into my backpack when he was in eighth grade and I was in seventh. It was because of him that none of the other guys would game with me anymore.

  Michael Corrigan and his big mouth.

  I resumed my scramble to get out of there and took a step backwards, not in the mood for a battle of the wits, when Michael’s searing gaze snapped to my face.

  Crap.

  His lips curled up in a mocking smile, as if he’d known I was trying to make a break for it, and he cursed loudly. “Oh look, everyone, it’s the wanna-be girl gamer. Careful. If she didn’t take her Midol this morning, she might get all emotional on us. Anyone bring a hanky?”

  Anger coursed through me as the guys around us laughed at his stupid joke. My feet planted into the wood floor beneath me, unwilling to submit to a plan of flight when that jerk had yet to be put into his place. I gripped my hips with claw-like hands and glared as hard as I could at him, willing him to spontaneously combust before my eyes.

  “Eat my dust, Corrigan. You know I’m more of a gamer than you’ll ever be.”

  The boys joined together in a chorus of ooooohs, like we were still in middle school.

  Michael cocked his head slightly to the side, his eyes glittering. “Not in a million lifetimes, Frye. No girl’s ever won the tournament. You can talk all you want, but unless you’re willing to go head-to-head, you’re never going to be the top.”

  I harrumphed, but the boldness I’d felt only seconds ago was fast fading. Technically, he was right. A girl had never won the tournament. No girls had ever entered. They’d made it clear as day that this was a boy-zone only. No girls allowed. How was I supposed to combat something like that all alone?

  Now wasn’t the time. Flight was feeling like the better option. With a shrug, I casually broke eye contact. “Whatever. I don’t need to keep proving myself to you. I beat you years ago and I can still beat you today.”

  I looked up at him in time to see his eyes narrow just a smidge and the angles of his jaw grow sharper. No surprise there. It was a certified fact that Michael hated to be reminded of the time I’d beat him in an impromptu Call of Duty battle years ago at his own birthday party. Usually, the slight deflation of his ego brought me joy, but in a room full of guys waiting for me to have an emotional outburst, it was more nerve-wracking than satisfying.

  “You know what, I’m tired of talking about that stupid game.” He made a face and then looked around at the other guys, who seemed to be on the edge of their seats, waiting to see what he’d do next. “If you want to talk big like that, you’ve got to pay up, sweetheart. In fact, I dare you to put your money where your mouth is. Why don’t you sign up now?”

  I lifted my chin, even as my gut rumbled with unease. Face-to-face confrontation was never my style. I preferred to settle scores on the virtual battleground. But Michael and I had never battled since middle school. And I’d mostly stayed away from his little gamer group. No one wanted me there. I wasn’t going to force myself into where I wasn’t wanted. I had more pride than that.

  He wasn’t going to get me all riled up. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  I turned away, talking over my shoulder. “Nah, I’m good. I don’t want to bruise your fragile male ego. You might never recover.”

  Two steps away was all I got before his mocking laughter made me freeze. If I were a cat, the cold sound would’ve raised all of my hackles. Instead, it made me grind the perfectly straight teeth my parents had thrown thousands of dollars at to correct my overbite.

  “Told you, guys. That’s why girls shouldn’t game. They’re only good for one thing...”

  He’d gone too far this time. I spun on my heel so fast it almost made me dizzy. With a finger pointed at Michael’s nose, I got right in his face. “Good for what, Corrigan?”

  His lip twitched. “Oh, I think you know.”

  I wanted to wipe that nasty smile off his face, but a solid form stepped between us, breaking my concentration. It was Michael’s ever
-present shadow, the other half to the twin duo that had done their best to make my life miserable since middle school.

  “Elizabeth.” Gabriel Corrigan gazed intently at me, his dark lashes blinking heavily, as if he blamed me for creating a scene. A deep, disapproving frown pulled on his mouth, made to look only more severe by the jagged scar that raced down his right jawline.

  “Gabe,” I shot back, using the nickname I knew he hated.

  The slight twitch of a jaw muscle was the only outward sign that I’d gotten to him. “Done here?”

  “Not sure.” I crossed my arms and cocked my hip with as much sass as I could muster under the situation. At least a dozen pairs of eyes were watching this confrontation go down. If they wanted a show, I’d give it to them. “Your brother was just enlightening me on the one thing he thinks girls are good for. He’s a real winner, that one. The Women’s Liberation Movement should recruit him.”

  There were snickers in the crowd around us. Gabe stared at me for a long beat and then turned stiffly to glance at Michael rolling his eyes behind him. Despite the fact that the twins were almost mirror images of each other—same shaggy dark hair, sharp features, and blue eyes—their personalities couldn’t have been more different. Where Michael always had something nasty to say, Gabriel hardly ever spoke. But he was always there when his brother decided to be a jerk, so I counted them both as pains in my rear.

  And until they both graduated at the end of this year, that was never going to stop. The only way to put them both in their places was to prove once and for all that I truly was the best. Even if it meant putting my neck on the line.

  My body was buzzing with so much frustration, I couldn’t even check myself.

  Maybe it was time to take a stand.

  Now or never.

  “You know what? Maybe I will enter the competition.” I pushed past Gabriel and up to the poster on the bulletin board. Adrenaline shot through my veins, making it a little hard to be rational. Before I could second-guess myself, I ripped the entire poster off the wall and rolled it up into a tight tube in my hands. Stalking toward my nemeses, as if I didn’t have a care in the world, I gave them both a cocky smirk and slid the poster roll into my back pocket. “There. Now I’ll prove once and for all that girls can be gamers. Guess we’ll see just how fragile that male ego is when I win.”