Page 48 of Breakaway Goal

We’ve crawled our way up to 2-3, and with only a couple minutes remaining and the puck fresh in my position, I can feel how dialed-in we all are to tie this game up.

Two Boston players are barreling toward me, but at the last moment, I whip the puck to Jamie; he snags it with the blade of his stick, dekes past Boston U’s right defenseman, and fires the puck across the ice; Sebastian finds it and rockets off a one-timer shot on their goal that slides in above the goalie’s shoulder.

The crowd erupts. I pump my legs, skating toward Sebastian to wrap him up in a hug and lift him off the ice. Other players crowd around us, patting him on the back or slapping his helmet in celebration.

The jubilation can’t last long, though. With two minutes left, we line up for a puck drop.

The last two minutes are a dogfight. We both get shots on goal, but Hudson and the Boston U goalie are standing strong in their creases.

Finally, with just seconds left, Jamie wins the puck in a battle behind our net and sends it to Carter. Carter, Sebastian, and Tuck execute a gorgeous passing play as they skate toward our opponent’s zone, ending with Tuck scoring a wraparound goal that secures a 4-3 win right at the buzzes.

The crowd explodes in cheers. Everyone gathers at the center of the ice to celebrate an insanely hard-fought win against a top opponent.

But now that the buzzer has sounded and the game is over, instead of riding the high of victory, my spirits sink.

I’m not in the mood to celebrate, because Maddie’s still angry with me.

I guess I can’t blame her. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. Asking a girl on a date when I wasn’t even interested in her, just to use as an excuse to ruin Maddie’s date? I’m an asshole on two counts.

Who am I kidding? I know exactly what I was thinking.

The idea of Maddie on a date with another guy made me so fucking flustered with jealousy that I had todo somethingabout it. No matter how stupid and pointless thatsomethingwas.

She hasn’t texted me since. The couple times I’ve seen her on campus or around town and tried to talk with her, she would only spare a couple monosyllabic grunts and hums beforefinding an excuse to hurry away from me, her brows pinched in anger.

It’s the first real fight we’ve had as friends, and I know I’m to blame.

She’s not wrong to be mad at me for ruining her date. For all I know, that James guy wants nothing to do with her after this.

That very possibility was part of what drove me to do it in the first place, but I know that’s just the most jealous, immature, irrational part of my brain speaking. Maddie’s a great girl, and she deserves to have a relationship that makes her happy. It’s obviously never going to be with me, so I have no right to try and chase off whoever she does choose.

Amelia’s angry at me, too. Can’t blame her, either. She didn’t deserve to be used as a prop to help me mess with my best friend’s little sister’s date.

I stand aside from the guys celebrating and horsing around in the locker room. I keep to myself, my forehead squished in thought. I just shower and tug on my clothes.

As I’m stepping into a pair of joggers, I hear my phone vibrate against the shelf inside my locker. Excitement scatters through my chest. Is it Maddie sending me a congratulations text, an olive branch that lets me know she’s not pissed off at me anymore?

I grab my phone … but it’s just some junk text from a clothing company I bought a hoodie from years ago. My shoulders sink with disappointment.

“What’s up with you, bro?” Lane asks, sauntering over with a big smile on his face. Even though he didn’t get to play, he’s still over the moon for the team’s big win. “You seem, I don’t know, distracted.”

I make an ambivalent noise in my throat. “Just tired, I guess.”

Lane slaps me on the back, hard enough to jostle me out of my daze. “Well, wake the fuck up!” he exclaims, beaming a victorious smile. “This is our last fucking season of college hockey, and we just won our first game! We don’t have many Black Bears victories left, bro, you gotta celebrate them while you can.”

He steps aside to wrap his arm around Jamie who’s walking by and congratulate him on a hell of a third period.

Lane’s right. Every chance to celebrate a win with my teammates who’ve become like brothers to me is precious. I shouldn’t waste it by moping around.

I try to force myself into a good mood, but it’s hard. Hard when the person who’s as important to me as anyone else in my life won’t even talk to me—and hard when I still feel a stab in my chest every time I wonder whether or not she’s been on another date since.

24

MADDIE

The Maddie Larsen of one year ago wouldn’t believe it.

I’m at a party. I didn’t even need to bring Jasmine or Rhys or Lane along with me as a security blanket to make me feel comfortable enough just to step through the door.

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