I’m puffing like a racehorse as I get into position for the face-off. Sully takes the center spot. Karlsson skates into position across the circle and gives me a nod. The player to his left is the worst one out here. I can see from the set of Karlsson’s shoulders he’s had enough of the rough play too. A word from us, and our defensemen will start bringing the heat. Let’s see how much No. 82 likes getting smashed into the boards by the Novikov freight train.
The ref skates in and we all tense, ready for that puck to drop. My gaze is laser-focused on his hand. I grip my stick, breathing deep, counting the seconds.
Focus. Speed. Control.
It’s my mantra. Focus on the puck. Move fast. Control your stick.
Eyes up.
The puck drops, and Sully just barely wins control of it, shooting it back to me. As soon as it hits my stick, I come alive, bursting with speed as I try to lose my shadow. But he’s right on top of me. I can hear him breathing like a mastiff around his mouthguard, thick and slobbery. He shoves his stick in, nearly tripping me, trying to wrestle the puck away.
Fuck, you’re gonna lose it.
I have to get it away from me. He’s herding me towards the boards. He won’t be gentle, and I can’t take another hit. My hips and shoulders are already screaming from the beating I took in the first period. I need this shift to end. Now.
Eyes up.
I scan the ice and slap the puck hard. It flies across the ice to Karlsson, and I’m saved a slam into the boards. I scramble down the ice, following Karlsson and his aggressor as they chase the puck over the blue line. A defenseman is ready to apply pressure, and Karlsson has to think fast. He slips the puck between both players, a clean shot back to Sully, who brings it around the back of the net.
I know what he’s doing, and I’m ready for it. He wants to pass it to me and offer me a corner shot on goal. But a blur of red comes blasting in from behind me, cutting off Sully’s pass to me. We lose possession of the puck, and it goes hurtling down the ice out of the defensive zone.
The Rays defense is ready. Morrow and Novy are a pair of Canadian moose, and Mars is our Finnish bear in the net. Novy wrestles the puck away right in front of the crease and sends it screaming down the ice towards Karlsson.
Focus. Speed.
I push with everything I have, cutting up the ice with my blades to make my mark so Karlsson can pass it to me. I’m faster than my shadow. I tear down the ice, breaking free of him. I glance back just in time to see Karlsson get boxed in. He drops the puck back to Morrow.
Eyes up.
I turn my gaze to the plexiglass, and a head of red curls with a wide smile stops my heart in my chest. Her hand is pressed to the glass as she screams, eyes locked on me. She’s here? How is she here— The sudden flash of camera phones blind me, reflecting off the plexiglass and I blink, looking sharply away.
Focus—
“Langley!”
“Ahhh!”
Time stops as my body registers two things at once. First, I’m airborne. I float in suspended animation, the milliseconds slowing down, my legs swept out from under me. Second, I’m in a ton of fucking pain. It radiates from my knee, up my hip, down my shin. Fuck, it zaps me like lightning.
I clench down on my mouthguard hard enough to crack my teeth as I brace for impact. My helmet smacks the ice right at my temple. Shoulder. Hip. Knee. I cry out again, rolling to my side, my stick forgotten as I place both gloved hands on my knee trying to stabilize it. If something is broken, I need to hold it in place.
“Fucking asshole,” I shout as the Habs forward scrambles to his feet.
“Sorry,” he says as he skates off, chasing down the puck.
Panic swirls with my adrenaline. Both work to numb the pain as my knee suddenly forms its own heartbeat, radiating pain out in waves.
Not the knee. Please, God, not my fucking knee.
Without hockey, I’m nothing. My family needs me. My sister, my mother—I’m their only support. And hockey is the only way I’m ever gonna earn. If my knee is busted…if this is the end…
Panic is winning out over adrenaline as I hear the whistle. They’ve finally noticed I’m down and not getting up. I know it’s only been a few seconds. Somewhere beyond the plexiglass, Tess is watching me lie here on this ice. Was it Tess? Did I hallucinate her? I don’t even know. Can’t think about it now— “Langley!” Sully gets to me first, sliding to a stop and dropping to one knee, his hand on my shoulder. “Langers, you okay, man?”
“What happened? Where is he hurt?” I hear Novy’s voice, but I don’t look up into the blinding stadium lights. They’re all standing around me, casting my prone body in shadows as I pant, my hot breath making steam against the sheet of ice at my cheek.