I left her to get my own gear on. I was running late, and the locker room was empty by the time I arrived. Despite what I’d told Mackenzie, I really had no idea if our plan would work, but it was worth a try. Like she’d said, we had nothing to lose, and I knew we had everything to gain.
“You’re late, Twelve,” Foster barked as I stepped out onto the ice. The number sixteen was literally printed on my jersey, but clearly I was still some cocky immature kid to him, and he couldn’t seem to see past that to the player I’d become.
I itched to correct him, but I knew that if I wanted to stay on the team and have any chance of becoming captain, I needed to keep trying to win him over.
“Sorry, Coach.”
I hurriedly joined the team warm-up and glanced over to where the goalies were gathered at the other end of the rink. I smiled when I saw Mackenzie. Her hair was tucked totally out of sight and with the helmet on it was difficult to tell it was her. She was right about the pads being too big. It should have made them hard to maneuver in, but she was warming up as if they weren’t bothering her at all.
There were six hopefuls in total, but to me she was the only contender. She moved across the ice so naturally, despite the bulky goalie equipment, and held herself like she was born to be out here. I didn’t need to see her stop a puck to know she was the best goaltender we had.
“Worry about your own warm-up, Twelve!”
Two warnings in just a few minutes. It seemed I was onlytaking steps backward when it came to winning over Coach Foster. I waved a hand at him and did my best to focus, but it was hard to keep my attention where it should be when so much was riding on what was happening elsewhere on the ice.
For the first part of the tryouts, the goalies were kept separate, as Coach Rainer ran them through some basic drills. But as the session progressed, our two groups were combined so we could test them under game-like situations.
It was only now that Coach Foster seemed to be taking more of an interest in the goaltenders. He began eyeing them closely, analyzing how they handled different plays. My palms were literally sweating. Mackenzie was well hidden under her helmet, but surely it wouldn’t take much for Foster to recognize his own daughter. The longer the session went on, the more closely he watched her, and I prayed it was only because she was playing so well.
For someone who had never played competitive hockey, Mackenzie handled pretty much everything the coaches threw at her. Her positioning and movement were good, and she looked confident and focused—her stick-handling was a little weaker, especially when it came to recovering from rebounds and clearing the puck, but there was one skill that made her really stand out: her reflexes. She was incredibly fast. Every time she reached out a glove to catch the puck or dropped to the ice to save a shot with her pads, she did it so quickly and gracefully I felt the urge to cheer.
We were all given a chance to shoot against each of the potential goalies. One by one, they stood in front of the net. And one by one I scored on them. Some of their attemptedsaves were so poor they made Anderson look like a superstar.
Finally, it was my turn to face Mackenzie. Part of me wondered whether I should give her a simple shot so Coach Foster could see her make yet another save. But I knew I couldn’t do that. If she was going to make the team, I needed to show she could compete with the best of us. Plus, she’d probably punch me again if she found out I’d gone easy on her.
She gave me a subtle nod in challenge. I gathered the puck and raced toward her. She tracked me intently, slightly adjusting her position to match every move I made. I couldn’t shake the memory of the last time we’d done this together, three years ago, and I found myself firing the puck at the top-left corner, just like I had that day at camp.
And just like that day at camp, her arm snapped out like lightning and the puck slapped against her glove. I stared in shock. As much as I’d wanted her to save it and impress her dad, I hadn’t been sure she actually could. Since the last time we’d faced off, I’d become one of the best high school hockey players in the state, and the best goal scorer in the league. Yet she’d made the save. And she’d done it with ease.
She tossed the puck back to the ice, and I grinned as I scooped it up. There was no way Coach Foster could pick anyone but her.
A few minutes later, Foster brought the session to an end with a loud whistle blast, and we all gathered round. Mackenzie kept to the back of the group, her head ducked as she avoided her father’s gaze.
“Good work tonight,” he said. “Thank you to everyone who came to try out for our open goaltending position. I’mpleased to announce that Assistant Coach Rainer and I are both in agreement on who will be joining the team. Everyone, I would like to welcome…” He paused as he went to check his clipboard and frowned when he read the name. “Uh, Ken Manly.”
My teammates applauded, and Seth cheered loudly, as I turned to smile at Mackenzie. I wasn’t surprised. She was clearly better than the others; hell, she’d have given Ford a run for his money if he’d been here tonight. I was just glad Coach Foster had noticed it too. As the applause died down, excited murmurs filled the room. Everyone was clearly relieved we’d somehow managed to find a solution to our goaltender crisis.
But there was still one little problem ahead of us. And apparently Mackenzie wasn’t going to wait to tackle it. She pulled her helmet from her head and stepped forward. “Actually, it’s Mackenzie Foster.”
Chapter 13Mackenzie
Everyone was quiet. You could have heard a puck drop from the locker room. The only noise was from my own shallow breaths in and out. This was it. The moment of truth. I’d felt confident throughout the tryouts, and excited when I heard I’d been selected, but revealing my identity had made my blood turn cold.
Every person in the room was watching me. The cool air in the rink felt thick with their surprise. But there was only one person I was watching—my dad. His eyes were wide with shock, but it didn’t take long for that to turn to anger.
“Woo-hoo, Mackenzie!” Seth cheered. But his echoing claps slowly petered out when no one joined him. You’d think the guys on the team had never seen a girl in hockey gear before. I gave Seth a grateful smile and he shrugged at me. At least he’d tried.
“What are you doing?” my dad thundered. I’d thought the tension in the air was unbearable before, but his fierce tone had the whole team shifting with discomfort. When he remembered he had an audience, he lowered his voice. “Go and get changed. We’ll talk about this at home.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “You just selected me as your new goalie.”
“No, I didn’t. This is a boys’ team, playing in a boys’ division.”
“I know that,” I replied. “But does it really matter if I’m good enough?”
I was met, once again, by silence. This wasn’t looking good. I knew my dad would never agree. Why had I put myself through this? Why had I stupidly dared to hope?
My dad looked as though he was about to respond, but then Parker stepped forward.
