During the first intermission, Olive tried to follow where Charlie and the team went, but she was way too far away to see anything. She debated getting up to use the washroom. Though she was used to a long Toronto line, Olive imagined that a line at the Olympics would be on a scale even she was unprepared for, so she decided to stay seated. She didn’t need to use the washroom yet, and she could stretch her legs after the game.
“So, where are you from?” the friendly older woman to her left asked.
“Toronto. How about you?” Olive politely replied.
“Ottawa,” she continued.
They chatted for a little bit more, but Olive’s mind was admittedly elsewhere—mainly on how excited she was to be there to cheer for Charlie and how unbelievably interested she was suddenly in the sport. Olive had always viewed sports as something boring, but perhaps it turned out that her lack of interest in them was because it was always seen as by and for men—both of which she had no interest in. Something about seeing women dothe same activity made it twenty times better, and Olive had a newfound appreciation for Charlie’s skill.
“Lucky! Lucky! Lucky!” the crowd cheered as Charlie swept down the ice, keeping the puck close. Olive had no clue what play was happening, but she was a little confused on the nickname. She had heard it earlier, but she wasn’t sure who it was aimed at. Now seeing Charlie clearly in control of the puck as the people around them chanted, Olive realized it must’ve been her.
“Excuse me,” Olive turned back to the older woman she chatted with earlier. “Why are they calling Charlie that?”
“Oh, Lajoie?” she asked. Olive nodded.
“Her nickname is Lucky Lajoie. When she joins a new team, they go from tanking to being the best in the league. Doesn’t hurt that she comes from a long line of players. Lucky indeed.”
Olive nodded. “Thanks.”
Though it made sense considering the explanation, Olive wasn’t sure if it was entirely merited. Olive was not an expert on the subject, but even she recognized that there had to be some level of skill at this calibre. This was the Olympics. Was Olive supposed to think that Charlie had gotten there based on luck alone? She vaguely remembered Charlie mentioning a nickname, but she hadn’t thought of it further.
It was likely not that deep to the audience, but there was something about it that had rubbed Olive the wrong way. Maybe it was part of the reason Charlie was so intense about her sport. Did some part of her believe that it was luck that brought her to this point in her career?
The thoughts of Charlie’s career faded as Sweden scored a goal, sending Olive’s section into a rambunctious disappointment.
The ice cleared, and Olive watched as the players all skated back to the tunnel. It was only the second period, but Olive was starting to understand the flow of the game a bit more now.
Eventually, the players were back on the ice, and it was clear that Team Canada was on the offensive again. Charlie, in particular, seemed extra aggressive. She almost got into a fight with oneof the larger Swedish players, and Olive watched anxiously to see if the ref would call a penalty. When they didn’t, Olive released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this enraptured, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the ice.
CHAPTER
TEN
CHARLIE
Charlie was goingto kick the Swedes’ asses. It simply had to happen. Though she had no way of verifying if Olive actually came, Charlie wanted to impress her. Sheneededto impress her. It was definitely a pride thing, but there was no way Charlie was going to let her girl see her lose at a sport that was so quintessentially Canadian.
Besides, what would the country say if Team Canada lost their first game at the Olympics? Charlie was not willing to let that happen.
During the intermission, Charlie sat on the locker room bench and tried to work through her meditations in her head. Though she was fired up, she needed to remain calm and remember all their training. The Swedish team preferred certain plays, exact players to execute them. Charlie needed to remember who they were and try to stop them.
“We got this, Lajoie,” Plaker said next to her. Though they were frenemies at best, it was comforting to hear from her at this moment.
“You’re right,” Charlie echoed. “We totally got this. Hockey is Canada’s sport. There’s no way we’re losing.”
“Exactly,” Coach said, having heard their conversation. He clapped them both on the shoulder. “There’s that dynamic duo. Go kick their asses, okay?”
“Yes, Coach,” Plaker and Charlie both echoed.
With the intermission over, Charlie slipped her helmet back on and skated towards the ice. It was smooth from the Zamboni, and she looked towards the goal, where Campbell was already digging in her grooves. Charlie wanted to look around the stadium for Olive, but she knew that would be the worst idea ever. It would only distract her, and she had to keep her head in the game.
When the captain completed the faceoff again, Charlie skated towards the puck, remembering the assignments the team had practiced. It was hard work to get the puck away from the Swedes, but they did so after a few minutes of battling, and Charlie was closing in on the goal again.
Plaker had the puck and she feigned passing it right, but then passed it to Charlie from between the Swedish player’s legs. Charlie caught the pass and aimed it at the net, shooting right between the goalie’s legs before she could catch up. The puck flew towards the net and in between the goalie’s legs where she had hoped. The cheering began immediately, and Charlie dropped her stick in celebration.
“YAHHHHH,” Charlie yelled at Plaker as she skated over to celebrate with her. In a post-goal bliss, Charlie pulled her roommate in for a hug that she knew she’d never repeat in another context.
“WOOOOOOO!” Plaker screamed back at Charlie.
