Most of the players were playing for pride or legacy. I was playing to keep my family on their feet.
The singer hit the final note and held it as the anthem ended. Another roar from the crowd.
I skated to the bench, found my spot, and sat.
Coach Markel stood behind us. Arms crossed. He wasn't barking adjustments or second-guessing lines. He was watching.
Down the ice, Pratt settled into his net. He tapped the left post with his stick. Then the right. Then the crossbar. Every goalie had their superstitions.
Markel's hand landed on my shoulder. Solid weight.
"Second line. Be ready."
"Got it."
The crowd noise peaked as both teams lined up for the opening face-off.
I looked across the ice.
Kieran was already in position. Left wing. Stance wide, knees bent, stick blade flat on the ice. Every part of his body communicated readiness.
He didn't watch the crowd. No tracking the jumbotron or scanning for his father in the executive boxes.
He was watching center ice. The exact spot where the puck would drop.
The referee skated to center ice. Puck in his palm. He held it up, and then crouched between the two centers.
Both players set their stances. Sticks hovering. Weight forward. Every muscle coiled.
The building went quiet.
Chapter four
Kieran
The puck dropped.
Our center won it cleanly. I collected along the boards, absorbed pressure, and chipped it into space.
No hesitation. Execution without thought.
I shot the puck low toward the goalie's stick side, aiming for a gap.
Forty-seven seconds.
I sat. Three swallows of water.
Coach Markel didn't look at me. The shift had met expectations, which meant it required no comment.
My legs weren't burning. Opening night was supposed to feel knife-edged, heavy, but for me, it was almost routine.
Three spots down, Heath sat with his helmet on and gloves in his lap. Shoulders drawn inward. Listening to Markel like there'd be a quiz later.
Less than twelve hours ago I'd watched him wrap both hands around a coffee mug at 2am. Felt his knee bump mine under a diner table.
Now we were three bench seats apart with nineteen thousand people watching.
The whistle blew.
