Dropping down to one knee, I bury my head in my gloved fist. The anxiety burning through me is threatening to overwhelm me.
Noah has to be okay. There’s no way he can’t be.
“He’s going to be okay,” Marcus tells me. His words are fuzzy. There’s a buzzing in my brain as I watch Noah being loaded onto a stretcher.
“Is he?” I whisper.
The crowd is cheering for him as he’s taken off the ice. My guess? Headed straight to a local hospital. I can’t imagine what his parents must be feeling after watching him take that hit.
“Bring it in, guys!” Coach yells from the bench.
“Take a few minutes. Get your heads on straight and then we’ll restart the game,” one of the refs tells the coach as I skate to where the team is all huddled together.
“Look,” Coach Andrews starts, “watching that was hard. But Noah wouldn’t want us to get lost in our heads. I want us to band together, play hard, and win this game for Noah, okay?”
There’s muffled words from the team. I don’t know if anyone is going to be able to get their head in the game long enough to play the way we want to.
There’s still a period and a half left to play.
As the guys start to break apart and hit the ice, Coach calls me to him. “You going to be okay, Graham?”
“I…I’m worried about him.”
“I know. We all are. I promise, you can head to the hospital after the game and see him, okay?”
“Sure.”
I swallow around the bile building in my throat. Seeing Noah in the hospital might break me. Seeing him unconscious, maybe worse? I don’t know if I can handle it.
I don’t know ifmy heartcan handle it.
“If you can’t go, tell me now. I can sit you right now.”
Taking a deep breath, I take the water bottle one of the trainers hands me.
I take a swig and clear my head. “No, Coach. I got this.”
Coach studies me, and whatever he sees on my face convinces him that I can do this. Because like he said, Noah wouldn’t want us to cave.
The only thing that keeps me going is the home crowd. They don’t sit down for the rest of the game. Their cheers give me the boost I need to push everything from my brain.
Hockey. Keeping the puck out of our zone so our team can put points on the scoreboard. That’s it. That’s the only thing that matters.
Nothing else.
And when the final horn sounds, what feels like hours later, the Knights come out on top.
Finally. Finally.
I somehow make it through the post-game interview. Every journalist asks about Noah and how it affected our play. I want to smack them. What do they think?
I don’t know what the film will show, but I don’t care.
All that matters is getting to Noah right now.
Chapter Twenty-One
GRAHAM
