Page 4 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

The crowd rises as one. Not because they've scored. Because every person in the building can see what's about to happen.

"Ethan!" Coach's voice cuts across the ice.

Our rookie pivots hard, trying to recover. His outside edge catches for half a heartbeat, just enough to leave him exposed.

The opposing defenseman has fifty pounds on Ethan and a full head of steam.

He lowers his shoulder. He's not playing the puck anymore. He's finishing the hit.

Ethan never sees him.

Time slows. Not the game. Just my mind. The angle. The distance. The closing speed.

There isn't enough time for Ethan to protect himself.

There isn't enough time for anyone to warn him.

There is only enough time...to move.

I push off. One stride. Two. The gap disappears beneath my skates.

"Ethan!"

He finally looks up. Confusion flashes across his face. He still doesn't understand.

I don't explain. I drive both gloves into the center of his chest.

"Move!"

The shove sends him stumbling backward. His skates catch and his balance returns just enough to carry him clear of the lane.

Safe. Good. Then I realize...

I've run out of ice.

The defenseman never changes direction. He commits to the hit. So, do I.

His shoulder slams into my left side with enough force to twist my body before my brain can process what's happened.

Something gives. Not the glass. Me.

A sickening crack echoes somewhere beneath my jersey.

White-hot pain detonates through my shoulder.

Then my ribs.

My stick flies from my hand. The boards rush toward me. My left shoulder strikes first.

Another burst of agony tears through my chest.

The world flips.

Ice.

Glass.

Lights.