Page 265 of On His Team

The handshake line is completely different when you’re the one going through it upright. Their captain says, “Good luck Saturday,” and means it. Their goalie says nothing and shakes my hand and moves on, and I don’t blame him. A kid I played against in juniors holds on for a second and says, “Go get it.” Then we come off, and there’s a camera in the tunnel, and the room is out of its mind.

Somebody’s got music on inside four minutes. Marsh has taken off everything and is standing on a bench. Owens is being physically assaulted by six people because he scored the winner, and nobody in this room can quite believe it was Owens who did.

And then it’s Stanley, from the middle of the floor, with a towel around his neck, hollers, “One fucking game.”

The room comes down. We all look at each other. I get the chills when Benson and I look at each other. I glance at Trent. He nods at me. I look back at Stanley. He howls. The rest of us howl like wolves.

The corridor is full — there are families and kids and about nine people from Camden with credentials. Benson’s already got his mother in a headlock and his father is shaking hands with somebody’s uncle.

Gianna comes at me at speed. “Rowan!”

“G.” I smile and catch her.

“One!” she says to me, and she’s got both arms around my neck. She is somewhere between laughing and crying, and then she kisses me.

Then she sees an opening to tackle Benson. She rushes him and pulls him into a big hug. I don’t hear what she’s saying, but he lights up when she shakes his shoulders. Then she points at me. He looks over and nods.

She shoves Lucy next to him and takes a picture. I walk over and say, “Get in there.”

She smiles big, hugging her brother and Lucy.

Then Benson grabs the phone and says, “Come on, you two.”

She jumps into my arms, and I laugh while Benson takes a picture of the two of us. She grabs my face and kisses me.

I pull back and say, “You’re cute when you’re happy.”

She blushes and kisses me again.

“Okay,” her mom says. “Now one of the family, please.”

She hops down and takes a photo with her mom, dad, and Benson.

When we get back to the hotel, it’s past eleven. My body is so sore, so I run the hottest water possible and stand under it for a while. Mackey’s asleep by the time I get into my bed. There’s a meeting at nine tomorrow and then a day off, which is a strange thing to be given in the middle of the last week of a season.

I lie there with my phone on my chest.

Gianna: National championship boyfriend.

Me: Is that a thing?

Gianna: It is now.

Gianna: Goodnight. You were so good tonight. I mean it.

Me: Night, G.

I put the phone on the nightstand and then pick it back up, because Coach sent the schedule to the group at eleven and I’ve only read the first line of it.

Saturday. Puck drop at five.

Michigan.

Michigan, who took the conference title in Detroit three weeks ago while I stood on a blue line and watched somebody else’s team pile onto their goalie.

One more game.

Chapter 24