Page 76 of Penalty Zone

I’m prepared for Drake to take offense, but he salutes Caleb and yells, “Next person who scores gets drinks on me all night.”

“Dad, you’re grinning. Are you okay?” Mason nudges me.

I tip my chin. “Your roommate is a character.”

“He’s one of a kind.”

“He certainly is.” It’s hard to remain stoic when I’m bursting with pride and triumph for him.

The third period is full of penalties. It’s not a surprise. But one high stick came dangerously close to Caleb’s neck. That isn’t an accident. The pace gets faster, and half the game is played against the boards.

Mason has a breakaway, but their defender catches his skate and sends him to the ice. I’m screaming at the ref and receive a warning. Mason’s fine and tells me to chill out when he gets back from his shift.

Everyone fights as if it were game seven in the playoffs. With three minutes left, Vegas takes a chance and pulls their goalie. Our defenders remember how to play hockey and take the pressure off Caleb.

Mason takes another shot on goal, but it’s saved by a defenseman.

Everyone is worn out, and we play keep away to wind down the clock. Vegas intercepts a pass and shoots from the outside. Caleb keeps it on his stick and circles the goal in the penalty zone. As soon as Vegas enters the trapezoid area, he glides out to the right. He’s vulnerable outside of the penalty zone, and an attackman closes in on him. His defenders move out of the way, and Caleb slaps the puck forcefully down center ice.

The puck flies in the air and lands past the center circle. It has so much momentum it keeps going toward the open goal.

The entire arena is on their feet.

Our bench is screaming.

Caleb is frozen with his stick stretched out in front of him.

Vegas won’t get there in time.

I hold my breath, and the puck slides into the empty goal.

Caleb sinks to his knees.

The team piles on top of him.

Caleb scored a goalie goal. There are only about twenty recorded in the NHL. This is monumental. My heart soars as the crowd blows the roof off the arena.

I’m dying to get on the ice with him, but the game isn’t over. There’s still twenty-three seconds left.

Coach calls a timeout. “The game’s won because you fought hard. Now go get Benz a shutout. He deserves it. So for the next half a minute, you’re going to play like you’re losing and keep the puck the fuck away from our goal. Enforcers on three.”

Ace counts, and the shout of “Enforcers” bounces up to the rafters and back on the ice.

Drake wins the face-off, and every man on the ice plays their hardest for Caleb, and he gets the shutout and a goalie goal.

I hug Mason and vault over the wall to get to Caleb. He’s surrounded, but my hands find him and pull him into a hug. “You made history tonight.”

“I’ll need my superpower before every game,” he says in my ear and picks me up off the ice.

“You scared me when you skated out from the penalty zone,” I confess, and I squeeze his shoulders as he sets me back on my feet.

“Do you know what this means?” Lucky spins like a figure skater in a tight circle. “Benzy’s drinks are on Drake. Happy New Year!” The team whoops.

“Go out with the guys. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say in a low voice when I get a second with Caleb.

“I’ll miss you,” he mutters. “Thanks, Coach.” He points finger guns at me and walks backward down the hall.

“No trips to the emergency room,” I yell to the group of them. “But have fun.”

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