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“A horse would barely make a dent in my appetite. I need to swim in a sea of French toast, cereal, eggs and chocolate milk.”
    Charlie rubbed his stomach. “Stop complaining. I slept in and missed breakfast. I’m gonna pass out if I don’t eat soon.” He suddenly had an odd sensation of being watched.
    “Hey, Charlie. How did you do?” Corey asked intensely.
    Charlie wondered where he’d come from. “Okay … I guess.”
    “How many push-ups?”
    He didn’t want to say in front of his friends. “Don’t remember exactly.”
    “Did you do more than 70?”
    Corey’s eyes were wide apart, his voice very serious.
    “Maybe … a few more,” he said finally.
    “What about the bench jump. Did ya beat 152?”
    “I’m too tired to remember.”
    This was a bit weird. He needed to change the subject.
    “I should introduce you. Scott, Nick, Slogger, this is my roommate, Corey Sanderson.”
    Corey immediately brightened up. “Good to meet you guys. How do you know each other?”
    “I go to the same school with Scott and Nick, and Slogger and I met at orientation,” Charlie said.
    “Gotcha. Cool.” He cleared his throat. “What positions do you play?”
    “We’re defence,” Scott said, pointing at Nick. “But he’s kinda useless.”
    Corey looked confused, as if he didn’t understand.
    “I’m a defenceman too,” Slogger said.
    Corey got up and laughed. “Great to meet you guys. I’ll catch up with you later, Charlie.”
    He moved over to sit with some guys Charlie didn’t know. Nick nudged Charlie and looked at him intently.
    “What?” Charlie asked.
    “What’s with all the questions? Bit over the top, don’t ya think?” Nick said.
    “I don’t really know him,” Charlie said. “He seems all right, though. A little hyper, maybe. But speaking of over-the-top behaviour, listen to this.” He was about to tell them about Zane when Jen called for their attention.
    “Sorry for the wait. We had to tabulate the results. This year the player with the best fitness score wins a new Easton stick. Coach Clark wants to show you the importance he places on fitness.” A murmur rose among the players. “So, the player with the highest score is — Charlie Joyce.”
    Nick, Scott and Slogger cheered and punchedhim good-naturedly. Charlie blushed — but this time it felt good, especially after the way the morning had gone.
    “But unfortunately, and here’s a lesson for you all, Mr. Joyce was late for the bus this morning and forgot his form. I told you yesterday how vital it is to keep to the schedule. You have to be responsible for yourself, on and off the ice.
    “So we deducted 50 points from Mr. Joyce’s score. Therefore, the winner of the fitness test is Corey Sanderson.”
    Charlie’s stomach did a flip-flop. He felt sick. The boys around Corey clapped him on the shoulders. Corey’s grin seemed too big for his face.
    “That’s a bit unfair,” Slogger muttered.
    Charlie prayed he wouldn’t tear up. He took a couple of deep breaths. Maybe Slogger was right, but he could only blame himself. Stupid not to set his alarm properly.
    “It’s eleven o’clock, boys,” Jen said. “Why don’t we go for a nice, little run — to build up an appetite for lunch.”
    All the players groaned.
    “Not too far,” she said. “Just to get the kinks out. After lunch it’s a one-hour rest period — then we hit the ice.” That drew a cheer. “Now follow me.”
    She took off towards the door. There was a logjam, so Charlie waited in line. Trevor grasped Charlie’s arm.
    “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You did fantastic on the tests. Jen honestly felt bad about it, only she made such a big deal about being punctual and thought she had to do something to show she was serious. Put it behind you.”
    Charlie didn’t know what to say. “Thanks, Trevor. I guess I can do better with the schedule.” He lowered his head. “I kinda have a problem with being places on time. I’m