We glide around, back to center ice. Akers isn’t injured, 91 is sent to the penalty box, and we’re on the power play for two minutes. The goal isn’t taken off the board, and we’re still tied at the end of the second period.
Fatigue is hitting me hard as we trudge back to the room.
“You good?” Gavin is at my side.
I dig in my bag, pulling out my last red Mountain Dew and chugging it. “I’m okay.” I tap the middle of my forehead between my eyes. “A little blurry, but we’re almost there.”
His brow lowers, and he gets right in my face, staring into my eyes. “You’re not dilated.”
“It’s good.” I’m breathless from drinking the caffeinated beverage fast. “They’re hitting hard.”
“Schultz,” Gav yells, waving our enforcer over. “Watch him out there.”
I shake my head, giving the big goon a wave. It’s a nice thought, but everything happens too fast on the ice. Owen finishes taping his stick, and Hancock polishes off a jar of peanut butter.
“This is it,” Donovan shouts. “Who are the champions?”
“We are!” We all yell at different times, and he calls it again.
This time when we answer, it’s a powerful unison, and I feel the surge of adrenaline in my chest, likely aided by the jolt of sugary caffeine. We’re winning this.
“Cookie, Mav…” Akers grabs my shoulder, holding his last piece of chocolate chip to my mouth. “Eat a cookie.”
“Get off me,” I laugh, tossing my empty container in the bin as we trudge back to the stadium.
It’s time for the face-off, and I’m up against Frost center Number 11. The puck is dropped, and I drive it forward toGavin. He scoops it up fast, looping it around and sending it straight into the slot for our first lead of the game.
The stadium response is quiet, and I miss being in LA where a play like that would set off an explosion of cheers, chanting, and music.
I hear the faint noise of air horns, and I look up to see Haddy and the girls waving their arms and screaming. Maddie shakes Zander wildly over her head, and I look down laughing, thinking about Dove.
She’s not too far away with her friends in a bar. I picture her in my jersey doing the hand motions to “All I Do is Win,” and we’re back in it.
Hancock brings it across the line, passing it to me, and I stretch out to shoot. It flies to the net but bounces off the post.Fuck.
I’m circling back again when a big guy nails me right in the chest, lifting me off my feet and slamming me into the boards. Schultz is on him at once, and a group fight breaks out around us.
I’m caught in the middle, doing my best to disengage when I catch a hit to my left eyebrow. Blood spurts onto my visor, and I glide over to the bench to clean up.
“You good, Mav?” Coach Leek is at my side, and I nod quickly wiping the smear off my helmet.
The truth is, I’m rattled. I can’t take another hit like that if we’re going to win. My aim is off, and my vision is blurry.
Number 11 takes the puck away from Saxon, and he’s sailing down the ice with Gavin hot on his heels. Gav is our fastest skater, but he can’t catch him. Akers hits the ice, putting his pads together, but the puck takes a crazy bounce and flies over his shoulder.
It’s too quick for him to catch, and we’re back to tied. The fans are back in the game, and the noise is deafening.
“It’s okay, we got this,” I say, grabbing Gavin in a hug and speaking in his ear. “T3G.”
He makes the signal to Hancock, and I alert Owen. We’ve been saving it, and the third period is quickly coming to an end. It’s our chance to win it and avoid going into overtime.
The pressure is tight in my chest as I bring it down the middle. Hancock is coming up on my side, but we play a twist we’ve been working on. They’re all expecting me to go right, but instead, I go left, sending it to Owen.
He brings it around for the play, shooting it to Hancock. Gavin’s coming up behind the net, but fucking Frost 91 slams him, sending his back to the boards and his stick flying across the ice.
Owen is right there for the save, passing it to me. My eyebrow is bleeding again, and I’m blinking against a curtain of dark red clouding my vision. I’m heading down the center, and I know this is the last play of the game.
I feel a large body coming up on my right side, and I’ve got to take a chance. Blinking hard against the blood and the blur, I see what looks like an open net and shoot the shot. It’s silent for the space of a breath, and it’s good.
