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Though we had a pleasant-enough evening watching the movie, we’re not yet friends or anything.
So yeah, it’d be really strange for me to text her.
That’s why I won’t.
But I really want to.
Shit, this has got to stop.
Not just because I shouldn’t be thinking this way, but more so due to the fact that my line is about to hit the ice.
Yeah, I’m in the middle of a game!
It’s the final leg of our three-game road trip, and we’re playing the Boston Bruins.
We won one of our previous matchups and lost the other.
This game, though, is looking promising. We’re up 4–2 midway through the third period. One more goal would be good insurance.
So let’s do this.
I fly off the bench and over the boards with my linemates, Arden and Hayden. Our more stay-at-home defenseman shoots the puck into the Bruins’ zone. All of us start chasing after it, but Arden gets to it first.
So does a Bruin, however, so now he and Arden are battling for the puck in the corner.
Though I have a guy covering me pretty well, I somehow manage to position myself in front of the Bruins’ net.
My opponent tries to bump me away, but I’m strong on my skates and hold steady.
Arden comes up with the puck and passes it to me. Though that defenseman is all over my ass, I manage to get off a clean shot.
And…I score!
We’re up 5–2 now, and there are only about eight minutes left in the period. Still, anything can happen, so our coach has us tighten up to a much more defensive style of play.
The strategy works, and we win the game.
Two out of three road game wins is respectable. We earned four out of six possible points.
Not bad.
It’s been a good run, but I’m ready to go home.
When I leave the arena with Arden and Finn, we stop out on the sidewalk to decide whether to go back to the hotel our team is staying in or grab a bite to eat.
Since the crisp New England autumn air is really whipping around us, I pull the collar of the long trench coat I have on over my suit up and around the sides of my neck.
There, that’s better.
Jerking my chin to an Italian restaurant that’s right across the street, I say, “I’m fucking starving, so I vote for food.”
Finn is in total agreement, but Arden tells us, “Actually, you guys go ahead. I think I’m going to head back to the hotel and turn in.”
“Okay, old man,” I tease.
We all love poking fun at Arden since he turned thirty. In actuality, though, I know he wants to go back to his room and FaceTime with Willow. It’s been several days now that we’ve been on the road, so I’m sure he’s missing her.
Kind of like how I’m missing Ellie.
