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She put a good fight, but thanks to Mom, she didn’t stand a chance. I’m sure that if Brook didn’t surrender in the end, Mom would have thrown her out of the window. She was that excited for us to go and do something ‘fun’.

Her words, not mine.

“If this is slow, I don’t know what’s fast,” I defend him, although he is keeping secrets from me.

Our school is leading with two goals scored by Max and Derek, while our opponent has none, and only a few short minutes are separating us from the end of the game.

We watch in silence—if you can call silence the music blasting in the stadium but at the same time it’s muffled by the cheer of people—as the game unfolds.

Seconds tick down, but the action doesn’t slow. If I learned something today, it’s that hockey players never slow down or give up. They are going to skate until their last breath or last second, whichever comes first. And when one team scores the goal they are pumped up to score more, but the other team doesn’t get discouraged, they keep on moving and fighting to succeed.

One of our guys has the puck-buck. He skates and sends it flying to Andrew, who’s on his left, but there are two other guys on him so he slides it to Max.

I’m sitting at the end of my seat, my hands nervously clenching and unclenching as I bite my lip and look between the clock and guys on the ice.

Just as I’m thinking he will do it, another guy crosses into his way, and I want to groan in frustration.

Derek

In the corner of my eye, I see the clock counting down the time. I can even hear it tick in my head, and it’s such an irritating sound.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Yes, we already won, but that doesn’t mean we will pass the chance to score because we are safe.

Every goal counts just as much as every game counts.

I wrestle the guy off of me and start skating like the devil is at my feet. I see Andrew get cornered, and I see Max’s blurry form pass next to them with a guy at his feet catching the puck and leading it to the goal. In one slide, the guy is in front of him, impeding continued movement.

Sanders’ keeps the puck at the end of his stick just long enough for me to move closer. It’s like it’s in a slow motion; he feels me there, and with a quick move of his wrist, the puck goes over the ice to me. I’m so into it there is no slowing me down.

It’s me against the goalie, which means that the other guys do their job of keeping other players off my tail. He stares at me, ready to defend his territory, but I’m not about to miss my chance.

The shot is quick and hard. It goes straight between his skates and into the net. The light on the goal flashes, and the buzzer rings signaling the end of the game.

I barely manage to turn around avoiding the goal myself, but instead, I crush into the boards. I don’t get much time to breathe because soon my teammates are all crashing into me, singing and shouting, celebrating our first win of the season.

A huge smile spreads over my lips. We jump around, patting each other on the heads, shoulders, and some even asses. Sanders comes to me last. We look each other in the eyes, visors standing in our way, and give each other a nod in acknowledgment. Maybe it doesn’t seem like much, but for us it is. If it wasn’t for him and that weird connection of ours like Andrew likes to call it, we wouldn’t have scored that last goal.

After a few minutes, when everything calms, we do a circle around the rink thanking the referees and congratulating our opponents on tough game.

As I’m going around I pass by the girls.

Amelia is standing there with Brook, Jeanette, and an older dude I assume is Mr. Sanders. She is standing close to the glass and has a big smile on her face as she looks at the ice. I come closer and wave at her. She waves back, her smile growing bigger which makes my smile widen.

I can’t help but notice that, although she’s wearing her jacket, it’s left unbuttoned and underneath she has on my jersey.

* * *

We return to the locker room where somebody has already turned on the music to the max. “The Winner Takes It All” is blasting through the speakers, and everybody is having fun. It may be only the first game, but the first game sets the tone for the rest of the season. Everybody knows that.

Coach congratulates us and gives us a brief speech about not getting too cocky and lazy now and that he’ll see us Monday morning for practice. I quickly take off my gear and go to the shower with the rest of the guys. Everybody just wants to get out of here and go celebrate.

After taking a fast shower, I put on some clothes, put all my stuff in the bag, and leave. Dad said he could come to the game, so I expect him to wait for me outside like always.

I see him almost instantly, standing next to his SUV. His back is to me so he can’t see me but he also seems focused on whomever he’s talking to. As I come closer I hear him laugh.

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