Page 52 of Face Off

“Getting quotes to use tomorrow and through the rest of the week.”

“Need another one?” he asked.

“Yes, please.” I pulled out my phone, ready for his words.

“This week isn’t just about us or hockey. It’s about taking time to look around our community to see how we can help. It’s my favorite week of the season, getting to interact with the kids and seeing them at the game is the highlight of my year.”

I finished typing and stared down at his words. Not the playoffs or winning against their rivals. This was his favorite part?

“That’s really nice.”

“It’s true. This week is always a reminder of how fortunate we are and how much there is outside of our little hockey world.”

And that stupid little piece of my heart that was falling? Yeah, it just got bigger.

18

Mikey

The excitement in the crowd charged through me. This was one of the games I looked forward to most every year. It wasn’t just the kids. It was an enthusiasm that spread through the entire arena. All the fans, the arena employees, our trainers, the equipment manager, the coaches, and especially the guys on the team were in good moods.

It helped that we were playing a relatively easy team for us to beat, even without the unspoken rule that the home team won on their charity nights. It wasn’t like they handed us the game, but no one felt like getting in fights or ruining the spirit of the night with cheap shots.

I was determined to not let anything going on with my world impact tonight. I wanted to enjoy it and put on a good show for the kids. I hurried through the motions of putting on my gear, and lacing up my skates.

“It’s going to be loud tonight, so listen up for calls.” Hartman said from the center of the locker room. “I want everyone to have fun, but we still have a game to win.”

The guys hooted and slammed their hands on the benches.

“Go Fury!” Erik called.

I followed the guys out into the tunnel with a nagging feeling that I forgotten something, but pushed it away. It was time to focus.

During the warm ups, I glanced into the audience and gave a small wave to Holly and Sadie sitting with the Pride. Sadie held up a sign with my name, and I nearly tripped over my feet. When was the last time someone had done that for me? Junior high? I’d have to ask for it so I could hang it up in my apartment.

Things were fine through the first period, and halfway through the second. I was on my third shift of the period when the other team got the puck and had a breakaway. I had to change directions fast, too fast. My knee went in one direction, and my ankle went the other. The shock of pain lasted several seconds, but I breathed through it until it became manageable. I cringed, hopped on my left foot, and shook it out before rushing to catch up. There wasn’t time to think about it. I could process later. After the game, maybe even after the period, I could assess the damage. Right now, I needed to protect our goal.

When I got back to the bench, I faced forward with my eyes on the ice. I didn’t want to know if anyone saw. I was just fine pretending and ignoring the throbbing in my skate for as long as necessary.

I could feel Lance and Mitch watching me. I didn’t need to look over to confirm. They would have opinions, and right now, I didn’t care what they thought. They would tell me to go to Amelia and have her check me out.

I refused to let that happen. Word would spread, and Coach would obviously notice if I went to the back. There were too many eyes here. My biggest critics were waiting, salivating, for exactly this. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t cave.

I’d played through worse, broken noses and dislocated fingers. A sore ankle was nothing.

Maybe if I kept repeating that, I would eventually believe it.

The next line came in, and I scooted down the bench, using my arms to lift me up and move rather than my legs. It wasn’t strange enough to draw attention, and it allowed me to rest without putting any weight on my ankle, but that was only a momentary break. I was going to have to go back on the ice before the period ended. My heart was pounding despite my break, and I fisted my hands against the shaking.

I checked the clock. Five minutes left. The other two lines might be able to drag it out. Unless there was a power play. Then I’d have to go out with the special team. My big chance to prove how valuable I was.

Great.

My eyes bounced between the clock and the activity on the ice.

Forty seconds left.

Would the second line stay or change out? I could look over to Coach to see what he was doing. I didn’t want to make eye contact with him or anyone else.