Unfortunately, it wasn’t a nightmare; it was the reality of what I’d gone and signed myself up for. And as we warmed up for the game, I kept glancing at the opposition. The Sharks players were huge. Even at a distance, they looked double the size of my Devils teammates. I knew that wasn’t true, and I kept trying to tell myself it was all in my head, but our opponents seemed to grow a few inches each time I looked at them.
I felt like I was going to be sick as my dad called us together and delivered his pregame pep talk. I didn’t hear a word. The ground seemed to be swaying beneath me, and I could almost sense my skin turning green.
Dad probably thought it would only take one game to make me realize what an idiot I was for thinking I could handle this. He probably figured I wouldn’t even make it to the rink today. That I’d quit before I even left the house.
The surest sign of his lack of faith was the jersey I’d been assigned. It was an old practice jersey, and while I looked the same as all my teammates in our white road uniforms with the red Devils logo on the front, I was the only one without a name on the back. Just the same number Ford had worn: one. It was as if I was keeping it warm for him.
Parker kept shooting me worried glances. It was the only thing keeping my stomach in check. The last thing I wanted to do was throw up in front ofhim.
He came over once my dad had finally finished his speech. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You look whiter than my ass in the middle of winter.”
“That image isn’t helping my nausea.”
“Oh, God, you’re not seriously going to be sick, are you?”
“No,” I replied. “At least, I don’t think so. It’s just some pregame jitters.” He continued to frown at me, as though I’d failed to reassure him, but I didn’t have the energy to argue right now.
“Fine, I’m a little scared, okay?”
“Scared?” He said it like he’d never even heard of the concept before.
“Those guys out there are twice my size, and they all want to eviscerate me.” I was beginning to see why perhaps my dad had some reservations about me playing hockey. Girls could do anything—yes. But what kind of damage would I suffer if a full-grown boy slammed into me? I was putting a whole lot of trust in my pads and helmet.
“You’re only just realizing that now?” Parker asked. “You know you’re playing on a guys’ team, right?”
“Of course I do. It’s just a little different to playing one-on-one with my brother. These guys couldn’t care less if I end up in the back of an ambulance.” I swallowed. What if Ididend up needing an ambulance?
Parker rubbed a hand against his forehead. “Look, youdon’t need to be scared. Goalies rarely end up in hospital.”
“Rarely?”
“Nothing is going to happen to you.”
“But—”
“Just focus on defending the net. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He didn’t respond, just stared out at the ice.
“Parker?”
He snapped round to face me. “It means, no one touches my goalie.”
Hisgoalie? I wanted to laugh—I wasn’t his anything—but Parker’s expression was deadly serious. It made me feel safer, like I wasn’t going to be alone out there.
He turned and stalked away, erupting through the gate and onto the ice. As I followed, I noticed a few smirking faces watching me from the Sharks’ bench.
“Hey look, it’s goaltender Barbie,” one player laughed. “This should be fun.”
“Don’t break a nail out there, princess,” another mocked.
Their words struck me harder than I expected, and anger pulsed hot in my veins. I wanted to turn, skate toward them and show them exactly what this princess’s nails could do. But I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted, not when there was already so much anxiety churning in my gut.
