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“Fucking perfect,” I tell him before we skate to our bench to high-five our teammates, and then we head toward Jude and slap our sticks against his kneepads. Faceoff to goal took twenty seconds. It’s time to rest, but not for long. I’ll get maybe twenty or thirty seconds before a line switch. When games are close like this, Coach tightens up his bench. He starts with at least four lines, sometimes five, but right now, he’ll finish the game with two-and-a-half. This is what we condition for all year, the stamina we need when the game is on the line. But honestly, I’m exhausted. My side hurts, and I think I have a broken rib. Coach doesn’t know because he’d kick me off the team if he knew I was fighting, especially for the money. I’m breaking multiple rules, and I hate myself for it. And part of me hates my mom for putting me in this position, but there isn’t anything I can do. Not until I’m drafted and can afford to care for my family.
I squirt water into my mouth and hear Thea and Millie behind me. I told them not to sit there, but they didn’t listen. While a lot of people want to be close to us during the game, we stink. We sweat so much our gear reeks, and the smell never goes away, and as much as someone would like to think the odor stays with us, it doesn’t. It wafts, and the last thing I want is my girlfriend to singe her nose with my stench. I don’t even care if she’s used to it because of her brother. It’s different when it’s your boyfriend.
Coach tells me to get back out there. I jump over the board and skate as fast as possible to the puck. I’m a man on a mission, and the other team tries to stop me. The thing is, I’m fast, strong, and only care about putting another goal up on the scoreboard.
Nolan knocks the puck free, and I’m off, pushing it hard down the ice. The goalie comes out of the box to tempt me, and I chuckle. He wants to play. I give him credit, but I don’t give him the satisfaction. I’m in the attack zone before anyone catches up with me. My line is doing what they can to ensure I have a direct shot at the net. I don’t stop and rear back. Instead, I take the puck right to the crease and send it. I see it nestle in the webbing and pump my arms as my knee drops to the ice. I slide a bit until my teammates stop me, and then we’re following our routine.
When I get to Jude, he says, “Thanks for the cushion.” Jude hasn’t been on his game today and is down on himself for some reason. When Coach called a time out earlier, I thought he would pull Jude, but gave him a pep talk instead and reminded us we’re a team and need to function as one. When you play like a team, you’re unstoppable.
The final buzzer sounds, and I barely have enough time to breathe before my teammates have me in a circle, patting my shoulders or helmet. We gather at center ice, congratulate each other, and wait for the other team to leave before showing our fans some appreciation. When the last of our opponents have exited, I raise my stick high in the air, the others follow, and then I slap to the ice. The sound of forty-some sticks hitting the ice at varying times is music to my ears.
After accolades are handed out in the locker room, I shower and dress slowly. I asked Thea to wait for me at the mouth of the dungeon—the long hallway leading to the equipment and trainer’s room, the locker rooms, and the entrance to the ice. Tonight, her brother is gone. He’s made it a point to tell me, and subsequently her, he’s got a date and isn’t planning to return. Of course, Thea ran with this and reminded me every chance she could by shoving pineapple in her mouth and winking. At first, I was confused why all of a sudden she was eating so much fruit, and then I looked it up. I’m not one to embarrass easily, but holy fuck, I was not prepared for what I read. And talk about performance anxiety setting in before we’re actually in a position to do something other than the blowies she’s given me or me getting her off with my fingers. I’ve never been one to shy away from sex but having sex with Thea is something entirely different. I like her beyond what the word like even means, and that scares me.
Jude and I are the last ones to leave—we planned it this way. The thing is, Thea and I haven’t gone on an actual date. I don’t count going out for ice cream with Lacey as a date or Thea making me dinner every night. I know we’re in college, and dating is what we make of it, but I want her to feel like she means something to me. With Coach’s permission and the help of her brother, I hopefully planned the night well.
“Okay, I’m going to head out. Are you sure she’s waiting?”
“Yes, she’ll be there.” Jude gives me a high-five and takes a box I handed him out to Thea. I get cleaned up, put my skates back on and head toward the ice. It’s dark in the arena, but the emergency lights give off enough glow we won’t need anything else. I set my phone on the bench and turn on one of the playlists I created for Thea and me. After skating out to the center of the ice, I wait. I’m not the most patient man ever, so the seconds that tick by seem like an eternity, and I start to wonder, what if Thea wasn’t waiting for me?
Every insecure thought I had goes away when she steps into view. Even though it’s dark and I can’t see her clearly, I imagine she’s smiling.
“Hey,” I say as she skates onto the ice. I haven’t gotten around to asking her why she doesn’t play hockey or figure skates, since usually once one member of the family turns to some sort of skating, the others follow. Ally wanted to train for the Olympics, but my mom could never afford a coach or the ice time.
When Thea gets closer to me, the smile I imagined is definitely there. She’s wearing my away jersey over the top of my sweatshirt, which I know is three times too big for her, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and her knit hat, along with her matching mittens, has the NU logo on them.
To me, she’s perfectly dressed.
“Hey,” I say back, clearly lacking an eloquent train of thought. I could thank her for coming to the game or for cheering me on, but I’m tongue-tied.
Thea launches into my arms, and I catch her effortlessly. I bury my face in her hair and inhale the aroma from her shampoo. I learned early on Thea likes everything to match. If her shampoo of choice smells like flowers, so will her perfume and lotion. I’d like to say one smell, in particular, drives me crazy, but it doesn’t. Every ounce of my attraction for Thea is because of her. She could be sweaty and covered in dirt, and I’d still want her.
“Amazing game,” she says as I gently let her down. “And before you disagree, I know you had to come from behind, but I like to chalk it up to you just giving the other team a chance to play.”
I laugh and lean down to kiss her. I pull away before she can deepen it because I know if we start something here, nothing can stop me from taking her back to the locker room. Even the threat of expulsion from school. It’d be hot-as-fuck to fuck her on a bench in there. Maybe when I get to the NHL.
“So, what’s all this?”
“A date.” I look around and realize it’s not the most romantic thing in the world, but it’s all I have at the moment. “You know how to skate, right?”
Thea nods. “This is a cute date, Ky.”
“It hasn’t started yet.”
Thea shrugs. “The fact I’m with you is enough.”
I don’t know what to say, so I take her hand and push off with my blade. We glide next to each other until she’s in front of me and wraps her arms around my waist. “Are you avoiding the elephant in the room?”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
“You make me nervous,” I tell her honestly.
“I’m nervous too, but I want this for us.”
“Me too.”
Thea moves her arms from my waist and wraps them around my neck. She pulls me forward for a kiss, and this time I let her deepen it. It’s a good thing I have the rink memorized and can guide us around. Otherwise, we’d be crashing into the boards and on the ice from falling.
