FIFTEEN
The locker room was buzzing with pre-game energy, and I soaked it in like oxygen. Conference championships. This was as far as we could go in club hockey, and every single one of us had left everything on the ice this season to get here.
“You good, Monty?” Foster asked, sitting down beside Drew. Our captain looked calm as always, but his jaw was tight with tension. This game meant everything to him too.
“Yeah,” Drew said, but his hands were shaking slightly. “Just thinking about last time.”
I pulled my jersey over my head. “Last time’s over,” I called from across the room. “Tonight’s a clean slate.”
Coach Maxwell stepped into the center of the room, and the chatter died instantly. “Gentlemen,” he said, his voice carrying that quiet authority that made everyone listen. “You’ve earned this. Every practice, every drill, and every game this season has led to this moment. MSU is tough, but we’re tougher. We’re faster. And we want it more.”
He looked around the room, making eye contact witheach of us. “Leave everything on the ice. No regrets, no what-ifs. Just sixty minutes of the best hockey you’ve ever played.”
The guys started banging their sticks on the floor, the sound building until it was thunderous. Foster stood up, his captain’s voice cutting through the noise.
“On three,” he shouted. “Conference champs! One, two, three?—”
“CONFERENCE CHAMPS!”
We filed out of the locker room, the energy pulsing through our ranks like electricity. As we hit the tunnel leading to the ice, the roar from the crowd started building, and by the time we skated out, it was fucking deafening.
The arena was packed—a sea of Clark Fork maroon and Montana State navy battling for dominance in the stands. I took a lap around the rink, feeling my muscles loosen and my mind sharpen. But even as I focused on my edges, on the feel of the ice beneath my blades, my gaze kept drifting around the crowd.
Ava was here. She came to as many games as possible and there was no way in hell she’d miss this one.
Don’t look.
I focused on the drill and took a shot on Gordy. The puck sailed wide.
Don’t fucking look.
I circled back to try again and that’s when I looked.
She was sitting about halfway up, wearing a maroon CFU hoodie with a black puffy vest over it, and her hair up in a ponytail.
My gut tightened.
Beside her sat Drew’s parents with Rory nestled against Mrs. Dumontier’s chest, wearing a tiny pair of baby ear protection headphones. Drew skated over to the glass andtapped it with his stick. His mom grinned and lifted Rory’s little hand, making her wave at him.
It was a perfect family portrait. The kind of scene I’d always told myself I’d never be part of.
But right now, all I could see was Ava.
I forced my gaze away and took another shot. This one hit the net.
When the puck dropped at the start of the game, I channeled everything—the guilt, the want, the fear—into the game. This was where I belonged. This was the one place where everything made sense.
Foster won the draw clean, sliding it back to Drew at the point. Drew surveyed the ice with that laser focus he got during games and found me already breaking up on the rush down the left side. The pass was crisp, right on my tape.
Their defenseman stepped up to challenge me, but I was already two moves ahead. I deked around him like he wasn’t even there and fired a wrist shot that rang off the crossbar.
Close. But it set the tone. We were here to play.
MSU came back hard, their top line cycling the puck in our zone with the precision that had made them conference leaders all season. But Drew was a wall tonight—breaking up passes, clearing the puck, reading plays before they developed. When their center tried to spring their winger on a breakaway, Drew was right there to break up the pass and clear it up the boards.
“That’s it, Monty!” Foster called as we lined up for the next face-off. “Stay locked in!”
The first period was back and forth, both teams feeling each other out. Drew was reading the plays perfectly, anticipating their moves before they made them. When theirpower play unit tried to set up in our zone, he disrupted their passing lanes and cleared the puck cleanly each time.
