Page 7 of The Love Penalty

We head out again and the game takes a turn. We’re playing more physically, delivering clean checks to the Foxes, letting them know we mean business. After five long minutes in the offensive zone, Jordan takes a shot from the blue line and it’s so unexpected, the Foxes goalie doesn’t even see it coming. And just like that, we take back the lead 2-1.

The team maintains defense and once I come off the bench for my shift, I’m in a great position. Ashton is out there and snatches the puck, passing it to me. I’m on a breakaway toward the Foxes’ net when, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of them skating fast at me, but I’m quicker than him. So I prepare to take the shot, but right before I can, I trip on the stick he throws at me and go down hard, knocking into the goalie and taking the net off the post.

The whistle comes immediately and my new favorite referee skates up to make sure I’m alright. I get up quickly, showing I’m not in any way injured and she makes the call, “Grand Marquee Manticores, number #31 awarded a penalty shot for tripping.”

Yeah, definitely my new favorite referee.

Sorry, Bob.

I take up my spot at center ice where Miss Referee placed the puck for me and start meandering slowly towards the opposing net. At the last second, I quicken my pace and the rest happens in a blink. I fake a shot to the left, goading an immediate reaction from the goalie. As he moves off his line, I redirect and put the puck in the bottom right corner of the net with ease.

The crowd erupts into cheers and the score is now 3-1, baby.

SIX

Olivia

The final buzzergoes off and the Grand Marquee Manticores win 4-1. After the penalty shot, Ashton, the guy I met last night, scored the final goal with 30 seconds remaining on the clock. He’d recognized me and kept trying to make chit-chat during the small breaks when the ice crew was cleaning up the snow, but I kept trying to evade him. Truth is, I’m not here to make friends, I need to remain fair and objective at all times, and that’s exactly what I am trying to convey to these players and coaches.

Brian, the Manticore’s head coach, was one of the nicest guys I’ve met so far. He said he was excited to have me here and looks forward to working together this season. The Foxes’ coach took one look at me, saw I was a woman, and promptly continued to ignore me. Whatever, that’s fine. I knew some of these guys would have no respect for me, which is why I need to assert myself and make them respect me.

The home team stays on the ice to celebrate their win and wave at the fans. They give the kids closer to the bench pucksand sticks and fist bumps through the railing that separates them. As I start heading off the ice, I turn and take one more look at the group celebrating. I see #31 jumping in the goalie’s waiting hug and they look so ridiculous I snort out a laugh and shake my head. Ashton catches me watching and winks at me.

After changing in the referee-appointed locker room, I take my leave. Down the hall is the home team locker room and I quickly walk by it, but I still hear the end of the captain’s speech.

“Great job out there tonight, team! I know we’ve had some struggles in the past, but I am confident this is our season! We’re gonna make it to the playoffs, mark my words.” They all holler and cheer him on, and I keep moving.

If they keep playing the way they have tonight, they have every chance of making it. The first line is really strong and their goalie is so good, it’s like he almost has precognition. He senses where the puck will go and catches it effortlessly, it’s incredible to watch. The only reason he got scored on was because they were one man down and the defense was not in position.

As I make it out of the arena, I see a restaurant nearby and decide to get some food and celebrate my first AHL game. The streets are filled with people that have just come out of the game—lots of red, white, and black jerseys, courtesy of the Manticores’ fans heading out to bars or their cars. The restaurant is full as I walk in and there are even some people waiting for a table. The host asks me, “How many?”

“Just me.”

“There is a 30-minute wait for a table, but I think I see an empty spot at the bar if you’d rather sit now. It’s all the way at the end and close to the kitchen so it’ll be loud,” he explains.

“I don’t mind, I’ll take it,” I say, my stomach already growling. I usually eat something light a few hours before the game so I don’t feel sick on the ice, which means I’m always hungry afterwards.

I make my way through the restaurant over to the bar and admire the decor. The place has a game theme, from video games, to board games, and even arcade. There is a PacMan machine, which you don’t see often, and many others I don’t recognize. The wall opposite the bar has an entire shelf of board games, from the classic Monopoly and Catan, to the more obscure, or newer board games. I notice that only the people at the booths on the far side of the restaurant are playing games, and the tables are bigger than normal. I wonder if I’d need a special reservation to get those tables and play.

The rest of the walls have posters and art that are video game specific. There are some really nice Zelda and Mario pieces. Underneath, a small plate shows the local artist’s name and the price of the print. They’re cheaper than I would have thought for the quality of the design.

I take the only empty seat at the bar, all the way at the end, by the kitchen. There are two bartenders, both running around and filling orders as fast as they can. I scan the QR code and look at the menu on my phone, and after about five minutes, one of them heads over my way with a water glass.

“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” he asks, leaning in and resting his forearms on the bar, giving me his full attention.

“Can I get the fried avocado nuggets and the bacon and blackberry jam grilled cheese?”

“Sure thing, anything to drink?”

“Some kind of IPA. You can pick.”

“I’ll get that order right in.”

“Adventurous, I like it,” a deep voice says behind me. I turn around on the bar stool and come face to face with the Manticores captain. His dark blond hair looks almost brown since it’s damp from his shower and he looks incredibly handsome in a blue dress shirt that makes his eyes pop. Mymouth is dry as I take him in. My gaze runs over him and I notice his crisp and tight dress pants.I bet his ass looks amazing.

That thought makes me blush and I snap my eyes right back to his. I swear he can read my mind because he gives me a smug smirk and says, “You wanna take a picture? I can even turn around, give you the whole view.”

I narrow my eyes at him and lift my chin, “No, thank you, I’ve seen enough.” I turn back around to face the bar and right at that moment the bartender places a tall glass of beer in front of me. I pick it up and take a big gulp. What is going on with me? Why am I getting so flustered? Better yet, since when do I ogle and flirt with hockey players? I take a deep breath and tell my gut to settle down. With any luck, he probably left.

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