Behind you.
It cuts through my thoughts as strongly as it did on the ice.
Someone in the stands saw that play coming before I did.
Fans shout things all the time during games. It’s mostly all useless noise - people reacting to what’s already happening.
But that voice hadn’t sounded like that.
That wasn’t a fan. That was someone who understood thegame. She had sounded certain.
I glance toward Russo.
“You hear someone yelling before that hit in the third?” I ask.
He looks up briefly.
“What hit?”
“The one near the boards.”
Russo shrugs.
“Half the arena was yelling by then.”
He’s right.
Still.
I lean back against the locker and stare at the floor, trying to place the moment again in my head.
I’d looked up because of the voice and for a second, I’d seen her.
Not clearly. Just a quick impression in the stands - someone standing up, eyes locked on the play like she was actually reading it instead of reacting to it.
Blonde hair and a focused expression.
Weird thing to stick with me after a loss.
But it does.
2
LEONORA
I can still feel the game in my body long after the match ends.
It’s the worst part about only watching hockey instead of playing it. My legs buzz with leftover energy as I walk back across campus, like my muscles expect ice instead of gravel to be under my feet. I think about all the stupid rushed plays and missed openings the Giants had.
I’m itching to fix them.
I imagine keeping the puck on my stick longer. Not panicking when the defense closes in.
I see the lane in my mind’s eye.
I’d wait.
I’d score.
