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It was going to be a great night.
I could feel it with every pulse of my heart.
I warmed up as usual and took shots on our goalie—and got every one in.
She smiled at me after the last one, and said, “I hope that’s a good sign for you and not a bad sign for me.”
I hit her pads with my stick and joked, “I’m on fire tonight, don’t worry.”
I guess not everyone hated me.
The whistle blew, and Gigi took the faceoff just like she always did.
The ref dropped the puck, and Gigi won it.
I was wide open by a mile.
Jillian had two players covering her.
Gigi passed to Jillian.
Sonofabiscuit.
Jillian lost the puck.
Well, she technically didn’t even get her stick on it.
The other team slipped the puck away, and their defense was about to pass it to the other end.
But I got there first. I hurried my ass over and reached my stick out just in time to intercept the puck.
There was no better feeling than stealing the puck back.
Other than scoring that is.
I spotted Gigi in front of their net—well, I sensed her there before I even saw her.
With zero hesitation, I sent the puck to her.
The crowd cheered, but her shot deflected off the goalie’s stick and flew toward the boards.
Again, their defense headed for it, and I wasn’t far behind.
I body checked her into the boards and easily pulled the puck back.
Jillian was in a good position in front of the net, but she also had a player stuck to her.
I slid behind the net and faked a pass to her.
Instead, I tucked it neatly behind the goalie’s leg.
And into the net.
The crowd roared.
I gazed up to see the time.
Twenty-six seconds.
