“Second line, you’re running the cycle drill first. Then we flip you to power play. Let’s move.”
Benson skates over and bumps my pad with his glove. “Golding.”
“Cap.”
Stanley joins us. The three of us line up at the far end of the rink for the cycle drill — left wing, center, right wing, the way we have lined up at the far end of this rink for two years.
Benson runs us through the first rep. He cycles low, drops it back to me on the half-wall, I move it to Stanley at the point, Stanley shoots, Benson crashes the net for the rebound. Clean. Fast. The reps we have done a thousand times.
Coach yells from center, “Good cycle, second line.”
We skate back to the line.
Stanley is grinning. “Goldie. How you doing this morning?”
“Busy.”
“Sleep okay?”
“Fine.”
“Making sure.”
I put my stick on the ice. I skate the two yards to him. I lower my voice so Benson, ahead of us at the boards, cannot hear it, “I’m going to put you through the boards on the next scrimmage shift.”
He grins wider.
“Promises.”
I skate away.
Coach flips us to the power play unit. Benson at the bumper, me at the half-wall on the right side because lefty shots play the off-wing on the power play, Stanley at the left circle. Two defensemen at the points. Percy in the net taking the reps.
We set up. Benson kicks the puck out to me on the half-wall. I look across. Stanley is open at the dot. I feed it to him. Stanley one-times it. It goes top corner. Percy doesn’t move. The unit celebrates — sticks up, the small Monday version of celebrating in practice. Stanley skates his cool-down loop past where I’m setting back up.
He doesn’t look at me. He says, low enough that only I hear it, “That one’s for Melly.”
I choke on nothing. I cough. Hard. Twice.
Benson, at the bumper, looks over. “What?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“What’s Stan saying?”
“Nothing, cap. Forget it.”
He looks at me for a beat. He skates back to the bumper and resets.
Stanley is grinning at me across the dot. My grip on my stick is white-knuckled.
We’re back at the half-wall. Coach has us running the cycle drill against pressure — a forecheck pair coming hard. Rowan and a sophomore D, Marquez, are pressing us.
Stanley comes off the wall with the puck. He’s looking for the outlet. I drop low to support him. He passes it to me along the half-wall. I’m catching it on my forehand. Stanley comes through to set a pick on Rowan. He hits me on his way past. He doesn’t mean to. He’s clearing space. He turns his shoulder into Rowan and the back of his shoulder catches the front of mine on the rotation. The impact lights the joint up like somebody put a lighter inside it, and I see white at the edges of my vision for a half-second.
I don’t show it on my face. I move the puck up to Benson at the top. Benson takes it to the net. Coach yells good support from center.
Stanley skates past me. “Easy, baby Blue. Don’t want you blowing a tire before the weekend.”
