Frank skates toward us calmly while the Vegas player suddenly discovers his deep commitment to dramatic suffering.
“You’re calling THAT?” I snap.
Frank doesn’t react emotionally or personally. “You retaliated after the whistle,” he says evenly.
“He baited me.”
“And you responded.”
“You missed the hook!”
“I saw the hook.”
I laugh, sharp and disbelieving. “Great. Awesome. Love that for me.”
His expression never changes. The controlled professionalism Toni inherited from him. It does the same thing to me on the ice that it does in a film room. “You’re in the box for roughing, Stevens.” The fans boo louder. I stare at him. Really stare.
And for one dangerous second I understand Toni perfectly because Frank Amato weaponizes calmness in a way that makes emotional people feel insane. “You giving me this because of her?” I ask, my voice lowered.
That gets his eyes on mine fully for the first time tonight.
Around us the crowd screaming, players shifting, music pounding through the arena speakers, but suddenly it feels dead silent.
“No,” Frank says.
And the terrifying part? I believe him. He points toward thebox. I go. Mostly because if I stay another second I might say something catastrophic. The fans rain down boos the entire skate there. Vegas fans near the glass cheer sarcastically while I slam the penalty box door hard enough to shake it.
Anthony skates by slowly. “You good?”
“No.”
“Yeah. We can tell.”
I sit forward gripping my stick while the penalty clock starts. Two minutes. Across the ice, Toni hasn’t moved. Not visibly emotional. But I know her now. I know what her face looks like when she's scared. What her laugh sounds like when it escapes. Which means I also know exactly how tense she is right now. I know the tiny tells. Her father skates past her toward center ice. She doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t look at her. Which somehow tells me everything, anyway.
“Oh my God,” Fuze says from the bench loud enough for nearby microphones to probably catch it. “Thanksgiving at their house is going to be UNHINGED.”
Trey grabs the back of his jersey immediately. “Please stop talking.”
“I’m stressed.”
“You’re making everyone else stressed.”
Vegas sets up on the power play. I should focus, reset, calm down. Instead, I see Toni on that dock.
I was scared.
And Frank across from me now measuring. Deciding if I’m worthy of her. The thought hits somewhereunreasonable.
“Stevens!” I look up just in time to watch Vegas ring a shot off the post. The crowd gasps. Bench explodes. Trey clears the rebound hard enough to send it down the ice. “THANK YOU,” Sully screams somewhere behind the bench.
The penalty kill survives another thirty seconds. Then another. By the time I step out of the box, the arena is standing. Timeout expires. I step out clean.
Paulson immediately chirps. “Daddy bail you out?”
Old version of me drives him into the boards. Current version skates away. Toni's voice is in my head and I let it be. Paulson actually looks disappointed.
“OH MY GOD,” Fuze screams from the bench. “PERSONAL GROWTH.”
