Me: That's becoming a habit.
Jasmine: Get used to it.
I keep myself busy,and in between our texts and calls, I manage to get through the week. I’m pumped for the game, but mostly, I’m just excited to see my girlfriend.
The game with the Carolina Knights is a divisional game, and both teams are in the playoff hunt.
I'm in the locker room, taping my stick, running through the scouting report in my head. Carolina's top line is fast. Their power play has been lethal all season. Their defensemen play a physical, grinding style that wears you down over sixty minutes.
Mercer comes in for the pre-game talk. He breaks down their forecheck pattern and tells us to stay disciplined.
Cole stands up after Mercer leaves. “One game at a time, boys. We’ve fucking got this.”
We hit the ice. The crowd is loud, and I scan the lower bowl as I skate my warm-up laps. I spot Harper, Avery, Natalie, and Olivia. Then I see Jasmine.
My heart expands. Thank fuck for my headgear so no one can see my idiotic smile. Four rows behind her, my parents are in their usual seats. The two halves of my life, separated by four rows. Not for much longer.
The puck drops, and the game is fast from the first shift. Carolina comes out pressing hard, cycling the puck in our zone, finishing every check. Their center is a big, skilled player who parks himself in front of the net. I cross-check him out of the crease twice in the first five minutes.
“You going to do that all night?” he asks.
“As long as you keep standing in my kitchen.”
Cole scores midway through the first. The building erupts. I look up at the family section without thinking. Jasmine is on her feet, clapping.
The second period is rough. Carolina takes two runs at Liam behind the play. The second one draws a five-minute major, and our power play goes to work. Blake fires a shot from the point that I redirect in front. The puck changes direction and beats the goalie low.
2-0. My second goal in two games.
The boys mob me at the glass. Liam screams in my ear, and Jake pounds my helmet. I skate back to the bench and sit down, and my eyes go to the family section.
Blake taps my shin pad with his stick. “Quit looking at your girlfriend and focus.”
“Fuck off,” I tell him cheerfully.
Third period, Carolina pushes back and score on a breakaway that cuts the lead to 2-1. The last ten minutes are a grind. They pull their goalie with two minutes left and throw six attackers at us.
I block two shots in the final minute. The second one catches me on the ankle. The pain is sharp and immediate, but I stay on my feet and clear the puck. The buzzer sounds. 2-1 Renegades.
In the locker room, the music is playing, and Liam is conducting his invisible orchestra. I shower and change. My ankle is sore from the blocked shot, but the trainers wrap it and tell me to ice it tonight. I grab my bag and head for the family entrance.
Mom and Dad are waiting. Mom hugs me. “Wonderful game, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Dad shakes my hand. “The redirect was smart. Good positioning in front.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“See you tomorrow for Sunday dinner.”
I take a breath. “Yeah, oh, and I’ll bring a guest.”
Mom's smile stays in place. “Of course. Who?”
“I'll tell you when I confirm. I just wanted to give you a heads up.” I kiss Mom's cheek, shake Dad's hand, and walk to the players' exit.
In the parking lot, I pull out my phone and text Jasmine.
