“You wouldn’t make it past the squad car, babe,” Georgia teases, taking a swig of her Stella Artois. Suddenly my best friend is a beer girl that likes hockey?
“OH COME ON! THAT WAS A FOUL PLAY AND YOU KNOW IT REF!”
We all turn a stunned look to Denver who stands with her hands in the air with red painted lips ajar. She looks shocked by herself as we all stare at one another before bursting into a fit of laughter.
Maybe hockey is becoming all of our favorite sportafter—
A loud whistle followed by dead silence and a loud cry of something both dreadful and filled with pain ricochets through the air and everyone in the arena goes still.
“Was that Blake? Are the boys okay?” are my first thoughts as my eyes frantically scan the array of blue, orange, black, and purple.
I find the puck first, just mere centimeters from making a goal, and then move onto the man clutching his wrist just a few paces away kneeling on the ice.
Blonde hair, tan skin, and the number 26.
No.
No.
No.
NO.
Jace’s cries are the sounds of a man who’s career in both professional hockey and fine arts has just been crushed.
Blake, Braxton, and Charlie are immediately by his side. They're all saying things that can’t be heard over the chatter of the arena.
“Is he okay?!” Georgia’s voice is panicked and shaky as she tries to get a better look at our friend but it’s no use seeing as more and more players are surrounding him.
“Fuck!” My dad yells from the bench where all the other boys on the 2ndand 3rdlines sit on the edge of their seats, ready to jump in and help their teammate.
Everything had been going nearly perfect, the boys were 2-1 and we were slowly moving into the second period only to have something fatal happen to one of the star players.
I curse myself for not paying full attention to the ice and feel my heart drop as two medics carefully walk onto the ice and help Jace skate off. His hand limp in the other.
His wrist is an array of blue and red but there was no mistaking one fact.
It's broken.
“What happened? Wait—”
“He pushed him. Marcelo fucking body checked him. I don’t know what Jace said or did but now the idiot's wrist looks like a run over dog…I’m going to go make sure he’s okay and call his mom.” Georgia sighs gathering her things, and I’m stunned that she even knew what happened considering we were in a full-blown conversation when everything occurred.
“I can go and help—”
“No, you stay here. This is your day, CJ. Let’s just pray the guys win this thing.” And with that she’s gone, stalking towards where Jace and the medics disappeared off to.
The game continues on with nastier hits and jabs and more boys spending time in the sin bin on both teams than necessary. We’re well into the third period when the line changes again and Blake skates to where the benches are. I can’t speak to him, but I can see the clear anger radiating from him.
He's pissed and that’s exactly how he needs to be to win this game.
One of the freshmen, Jacob McCarthy, from the third line got traded to take over Jace’s spot and he’s been working nonstop to keep up with the men on the first line. Lucki Cole and Jack Tyler are on the move working with their center, River Ruiz, to score before the next shift change.
The boys are so in sync that I’m taken aback as they move like a well-oiled machine up and down the ice. It’s only when River tries and fails to score a goal that my dad gears up for another line change and Blake is back on the ice.
Blake moves with the precision of a trained assassin, he’s stealthy and quick on his feet as he maneuvers the puck with ease. I can see why Washington is so interested in him as a player, he’s fucking awesome. When I become a commentator, I hope that he plays one of my first games because being able to talk about someone as skilled as him would be an honor.
I’m not just saying that because he’s my boyfriend, either. Blake is simplythatgood.
