Page 98 of One Shot

We are back out on the ice with more speed, more heart, and more intention than the first period. We score a goal within the first five minutes. Jubilant cheers erupt through the arena. The team is amped, and we are finally on the board, up 1 to 0. All we have to do is keep it up.

There’s five minutes left in the second period. It’s been a lot of push and pull across the ice, but nothing we can’t handle.

Then suddenly, Kovek sends Tyler into the wall on a dirty hit that the refs call as clean. Rage boils up in me at the ref’s call. Tyler gets up off the ice, dropping his gloves and rushing toward Kovek. Out of everyone to get in a fight, I thought it would be Liam, me, or Mitchell and his buddy McAllister—not because of Kovek but because they are hotheads. I didn’t expect it to be Tyler.

Kovek knew his hit was dirty and didn’t give a flying fuck. I know how much Tyler loves and respects Laur. I won’t hold him fighting against him even though it could very well cost us the game. Tyler and Kovek are broken up by the refs. Both get two minutes in the penalty box.

“We don’t like that guy, do we?” Mitchell asks me as I get to the bench.

“No, Mitchell, we fucking hate that guy. But play nice; we need this win.”

“I know, I know. I can play nice, Captain!” Mitchell salutes me and skates away.

“Fuck,” I groan under my breath. He better not mess up our chances of winning this game.

The penalties are almost up. So far, Mitchell hasn’t caused any chaos, thank Gretzky. East takes control of the puck as soon as Tyler and Kovek both come out of the penalty boxes. Somehow, they get a breakaway and score.

Fuck. The second period ends with a tie, 1 to 1.

“Luc,” Tyler’s voice is soft, laced with guilt and embarrassment

“Any one of us would have done the same thing if not worse, Tyler. No one’s blaming you for anything,” I interrupt him before he can get in another word. He knows just the sight of Kovek makes me want to punch something.

“We’ve got time,” Mitchell says.

My eyes widen in surprise. Mitchell chiming in with positivity? That’s a first.

Coach Andres gathers us around intentionally, gearing us up for another pep talk.

“Listen to me, Wyverns. We fly high in the sky. We know that the sun rises in the East and sets in the West, do you know what that means, boys?” Coach bellows in the locker room.

We all look around puzzled. What the hell is he talking about? Has he been flying high while we’ve been putting blood, sweat, and tears on the ice?

“It means we get the last light; we get the last say; we get the last shot; we get the last goal. It’s our one shot to take, not theirs.”

Hearing Coach Andres’ words sends a sensation through my body, my mind and my heart. A sensation of pride, determination, strength, and perseverance. It’s a winning sensation. It has to be.

“Coach is right. We have the record this season. We have the skill. We have the team. Let’s show them that,” I chime in, hyping up my team and ready to get back on the ice. “One shot on three.”

We are back on the ice energized, hungry, and ready. We’ll get this win. I feel it in my bones. I try to find Laur’s face in the crowd. She usually sits behind the team bench, but I know she won’t want to be that close to East’s bench. I find her on the opposite side in the third row. She turns around to show me the jersey again. Her mom, Bren, and Dominic are all pointing at the “Captain’s GF” on the back. I can’t help but laugh and blow Laur a kiss.

The first twelve minutes of the third period are a battle. Both teams are fighting with everything they have for the win to make it to the Frozen Four. It feels like it might drag on forever. Mitchell checks Kovek hard against the glass. It’s a clean hit, but a brutal one. Kovekloses his shit over the call that it was a clean hit. He starts to argue with the ref that the hit wasn’t clean. He’s livid and pushes the ref on the shoulder. Whistles are blowing, and he’s in the penalty box. Holy shit.

Kovek is lucky his teammates stepped in to avoid him making a bigger ass of himself with the ref. If he did shove the ref, he could have had major disciplinary action—he still might. What an asshole. I look over to the East team bench to see their coach red in the face with anger. That’s a big penalty. He’ll get five minutes, and we only have four minutes left of the game.

Mitchell skates to the bench and murmurs, “Told you I can play nice. Didn’t even chirp back at him!”

For once, I genuinely appreciate Blaine Mitchell. Kovek will be in the penalty box for the second time, and we’ll have a power play for the rest of the game. We can win this.

Two minutes go by, and we are fighting hard. We keep the puck on their side of the ice, but their goalie blocks every shot. I think back to the last game against East, Coach’s advice, and Nick’s book. East’s goalie has a hard time blocking shots high and in the corners of the net. I start muttering this to every player and tell them to keep talking about it subtly. We can win this.

I’m on the ice now. With a switch in our lines, Mitchell is on the ice with me. Mitchell sends a flawless pass up to Tyler to take the puck up the ice. Tyler is swarmed by two East players and passes back to Mitchell. Mitchell must have been practicing on his own, he’s improved.

Mitchell skates around the ice, passing back to Tyler every so often to avoid having the puck stolen. He sends the perfect pass for me to take a slapshot off of. I aim for the top left corner of the net.

The shot goes in.

“Insane shot, Donato,” Mitchell screams to me as all gather to celebrate the shot on the ice. Tyler practically mauls me in celebration. Every player taps my helmet or claps me ecstatically on the back. We could win this game.

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