Page 44 of My Last Dance

When the puck dropped at the boys’ game, I was too distracted to watch because I was shocked at how many people filled thestadium.

That was the first time I realized they weren’t reallyourCentre Ice boys anymore. The days of them being ours were over because they weren’t the troublemaker kids who loved pranking each other and cackling loudly through the rink hallways anymore. They were close to the NHL, and they weregood.

Watching them from our upper-bowl seats, I could tell they were going to be famous, and while that was great for them, my chest ached with a little bittersweetness.

“Wow,” Ali said, breaking into my thoughts. “I didn’t realize they had so many fans. People are actually wearing their last names on their jerseys.”

I snorted. “I’d love to tell them, hey, just FYI, Kappy’s pre-game bathroom break smells up an entire rink.”

“And Colt snores louder than fifty old men put together,” Mer added with a giggle.

“And JP hacks and coughs for like a full hour in the mornings after he wakes up,” Ali said.

I side-eyed Ali and struggled to keep a grin in check. “How do you know what JP sounds like when he wakes up?”

Her face immediately flamed up. “Ope! All three are out!” she said, definitely trying to distract me.

Richard and Colt surged into the offensive zone while JP replaced a defenseman on the blue line. I shook my head wryly because Richard’s jersey looked a little dingy compared to the rest of the guys’ white jerseys, almost like it had permanent sweat stains.

“I think we should buy Kappy some new laundry detergent,” Ali snickered. “I wonder if that jersey has ever seen the inside of a washing machine.”

I smirked, but it quickly turned into a grimace. I was so used to seeing Richard’s number 14 jersey zooming into the corners, sacrificing his body for the puck, but today, he was a beat late, almost like he was afraid of fully committing. I couldn’t entirely blame him because this league was rougher, and the guys were bigger. But still…avoiding the corners was a bad look, especially to scouts.

Mer, who was sitting on the other side of Ali, gasped loudly when Colt barreled into the boards to check a guy.

“Why does he have to go out of his way to hit that hard? Doesn’t he know they’re gonna get his number and dish it back?” Mer asked with wide, scared eyes. “He promised me no fighting tonight.” Shestarted scratching at her already blotchy neck. Mer developed a nervous condition from skating that made her neck erupt in hives every time she was anxious.

“He’s a big boy, he’ll be fine,” Ali told her with an encouraging nod, but I could understand where Mer was coming from.

The next shift out, Colt interrupted an opponent’s pass at center ice and took off with the puck to the net. Kappy sped to catch up with him to make it a two-on-one. But when Colt slid the puck over to him, instead of shooting, Kappy froze for a second before hastily passing it back. Only problem—Colt was going too fast and already passed the goalie. He tried to shoot at an odd angel, but it was too late, and the goalie easily stopped the shot.

Colt crashed into the boards, and a second later, an opposing defenseman plowed into him—afterthe whistle—making Colt’s helmet fly off. Instead of reaching for his helmet, Colt ignored the ref blowing his whistle and started swinging at the guy who hit him. The crowd went wild as Colt and his opponent tipped onto the ground, their fists still swinging.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the guys on the ice to get involved. Kappy started brawling with a guy just to be clobbered from behind by another opponent. JP was there in a flash, pulling the new guy away from Kappy and smashing him in the helmet.

“Get him, JP!” Ali hollered, throwing her own fist in the air.

“Oh my God.” Mer covered her face. “He doesn’t have a helmet. I can’t. I can’t watch.” She was practically shaking like a leaf. “Tell me when it’s over.”

A couple seconds later, the three refs finally had things under control. One ref held the back of Colt’s jersey while he escorted him to the penalty box. Of course Colt was still chirping and smirking at his opponent the whole way across the ice.

“Thank God,” Mer whispered. “I can breathe for two minutes.”

Ali laughed. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to be upset when he gets a penalty.”

Mer shook her head and scratched her neck. “I wish they gave him a five minute.”

“Let’s go to the concession stand, yeah?” I asked. Mer’s nerves needed a break.

“Ooh, yeah,” Ali’s face split into a bright grin, making her look like a kid in a candy shop. “How good does a hot pretzel and cheese sound?”

“I’m too nervous to eat anything,” Mer said, making a face that told me she was nauseous.

“C’mon, let’s go, we can walk around the stadium, stretch our legs for a minute.”

Making our way to the aisle, Ali lost her balance and practically fell onto an older gentleman’s lap, then apologized profusely.

“Oh my God.” She giggled as soon as we were skipping down the steps. “Mark would’ve been so mad at me.”

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