“Looking forward to it.” He gave me another wicked smile before he skated to center ice.
The game started, and I quickly realized it would probably be impossible to outshine Parker tonight. From the moment the puck dropped, he was everywhere. Chasing down loose pucks, slamming Saints players into the boards, firing off shots and setting up opportunities for his teammates. It was no surprise when he opened the scoring with a brilliant goal.
Sunshine Hills were no pushovers, though. I could see why they’d played in the championship game last year. And I could also see why there was so much animosity between the two teams. The Saints were tough, aggressive, and skillful. But so were my teammates—and so was I.
I wasn’t the same goaltender I’d been just a few weeks ago. I was stronger and faster. All the extra training I’d done with Parker was finally clicking into place. Every early morning, every sore muscle, every mistake; they had all led to thismoment. And I felt unbeatable. I saved every shot that came my way in the first period, and it filled me with satisfaction to see the frustrated looks on the Saints players’ faces when we reached the first intermission.
The rest of the team were playing well too, clearly benefiting from our recent team-bonding sessions. They were working harder for each other, making fewer mistakes. It seemed like every single pass was finding a teammate. There was no confusion, more confidence, and, even if the scoreboard didn’t reflect it at the end of the game, I think I still would have felt like we’d won something today.
The second period was just as intense, and I continued to make save after save, but the Saints finally broke through my defenses. While Cullen scored another goal for us, Sunshine Hills got two. The scores were tied.
The locker room was tense during the second intermission. Every player catching their breath, checking their gear, and visualizing how they could help to bring home the win. My dad said a few words, and so did Parker. But we didn’t need encouragement. We all knew exactly what was on the line.
I glanced up at the stands as I headed across the ice to take up my position for the start of the third period. My pulse fluttered with adrenaline at the cheering crowd. They seemed even louder now, more anxious, as everyone prepared for the decisive final period.
“I’ve been thinking…” Parker said, skating up to me before play restarted.
“About the game, I hope.”
“Well, sort of.” He grinned. “I think we should make a bet.”
“You want to betnow?” The scoreboard was counting down to the end of the intermission; we had less than a minute left.
He shrugged. “This game isn’t tense enough; we should up the stakes.”
“Isn’t tense enough? We’re tied two goals each in the final period against our biggest rivals. How high do you want the stakes to be?” But then my eyes narrowed and I started to smile. “Actually, don’t answer that,” I said. “I know guys like you. You’re probably going to say something like, ‘loser has to take off a piece of clothing’ or ‘if you score, I have to kiss you.’”
Parker laughed, and his eyes glowed with mischief. “Well, we’ve already kissed, and I seem to remember losing a lot more than one piece of clothing because of you. No, I have a much better idea.”
“And that is?”
“A date,” he replied. “If I score another goal, you go on a date with me.”
“Go on…”
“And if you keep the Saints from scoring any more, you go on a date with me.”
“It sounds like you just really want us to go on a date.”
“Pretty much.”
All the other players were in position, and I nodded to center ice. “Parker, the game’s about to start.”
“They can wait.”
“Parker…”
One of the refs was waving frantically at him. Only ten seconds left on the clock, but he didn’t look like he was planning on moving anytime soon. He seemed happy to wait me out.
“Okay, fine! You’re on. Just get to the faceoff.”
“So, it’s a bet?”
“Yes, it’s a bet!”
When the game restarted, I felt renewed energy flowing through me. Nothing quite motivated me like beating Parker Darling. But the Saints were motivated too. The third period was too close to call, like a tug of war between two evenly matched opponents; neither willing to budge an inch. As the minutes ticked by, I was on track to win my bet, but Parker needed to step up if he wanted to win his. He needed to find a way past the Saints’ goalie, who had saved even more shots than me.
The anticipation in the stands and on the ice only grew.
