Page 184 of Puck Me Back to Life

Top corner.

Goal.

The building erupts. My teammates mob me against the glass. Dante is yelling something directly into my ear. The crowd chants something.

I don't hear any of it. The noise washes over me until it becomes something almost physical. It fills every empty place inside my chest.

The game restarts.

Another shift.

Another collision.

Another penalty.

This time for roughing.

Tyler laughs as I skate toward the box. “You trying to lead the league tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“Little psycho.”

“Probably.”

He shakes his head. “I kinda like it.”

Angela is sitting five rows behind our bench. I don't notice her until midway through the second period. During a television timeout I glance toward the crowd.

She's already looking at me.

When our eyes meet, she smiles.

Small.

Sad.

Then she waves.

I lift my hand automatically. The smile never reaches my face.

The timeout ends. The whistle blows. I throw myself back into the game before she can read anything else.

Everything feels sharper tonight.

Every pass.

Every hit.

Every sound.

Noah and I end up on the ice together more than Coach probably intended.

Our shifts overlap constantly. He never says a word. Neither do I.

We simply play.

Halfway through the second, he sends a perfect stretch pass through the neutral zone. It lands exactly where it needs to. I receive it cleanly in stride.