THIRTY-ONE
HARLAN
APRIL
It was me or him.
One of us was walking away with a shutout, and the other with nothing. I felt like Nick Oberbeck could see into my soul from the other end of the ice. Strangely enough, Oberbeck’s wife, Annie, was my agent. Hockey small world shit. Plus, Leroy and Sorrento used to play with him. Did they want him to get the shutout?
Clear your head.
That was stupid anyway. Of course, they wanted us to win. We hadn’t fully clinched our playoff berth, and at this late point in the season, every game was critical. I heard the guys talking through clinching scenarios in the locker room but tuned them out. I needed to focus on this game, the one in my hands.
A peek behind me showed Emma standing there with Leroy’s wife and Sorrento’s wife, along with Colton’s girlfriend. It was kids’ day or some shit like that, and all the dads on the team were supposed to go collect their kids and parade them around afterthe last buzzer. Emma looked like she was helping them wrangle their kids. Should I have asked Liam to be here?
Clear your head.
Ridiculous.
The PA announced one minute remaining of overtime and play was headed my way. Three on three can be a train wreck, stripping the game down to its barest form. Choosing between defense and offense. Determining whether it was better to try to hold them or score one.
My stomach tensed as I shuffled to anticipate which way their forward would shoot. A shot ripped toward me and I dropped to deflect it with my leg pad.
What needs to happen next?
Get the rebounds.
It ended with me flopping on the ground, but when the buzzer sounded to end overtime, we remained at 0-0.
I stood to reset, putting my helmet, glove, and blocker on top of the net. I got a sip of water while the teams decided their shootout order. Stats swirled in my head: my shootout record, what I knew about L.A.’s potential shooters and their records.
I sprayed the water across my forehead and swiped a hand through my hair. When my vision cleared, I saw yet another familiar face standing in the tunnel.
Liam. And a couple of his friends.
Holy shit. Did Emma want me to include him? We were together. Secretly. We were still coasting along in this bubble where, thus far, we hadn’t been exposed and neither of us was interested in stirring things up before the playoffs.
But I knew sometimes she brought Liam to games to let him stand with her and stay there while she went back to the kitchen. But why hadn’t I noticed him earlier? He included me in his senior night. Should I include him in our night?
The buzzer sounded and it was go-time. Surprisingly, I was grateful for the distraction. I definitely wasn’t thinking about hockey, and that made it easier to get my head on again.
We decided to shoot first. Great. It would all come down to me. The last move would likely be on my end. My heart thundered as Leroy took the ice for the first shot.
Really? Leroy? Love the guy, but not exactly a sharp shooter.
And sure enough, he tried coming tight to the crease with a bunch of quick dekes, every one of which Oberbeck anticipated. As Leroy passed, he patted Oberbeck’s helmet. Right, they used to play together.
They sent Miknevicius out as my first opponent, a real cocky piece of shit. Great if he’s on your team, a menace if he’s not. He came in hot, probably trying to overwhelm me with his size.
I had just the solution for that.
As soon as he was in range, I sent my stick between his skates for a good old fashioned poke check. He tripped, went flying, and got up bitching, but I just stood leaning on my goal post and laughing. I made a boohoo hand motion at him and he acted like he was going to come after me. I shooed him away and the ref held him back while he kept jawing at me.
Sorrento went next for us, trying to switch directions at the last second. Another thing Oberbeck anticipated and stopped with little effort.
And the same it went with L.A.’s next attempt, easily swiped away with my stick.
We had one more shot to win this thing or extend the shootout. Some mix of a goalie’s dream and nightmare.
