Page 153 of Of Pucking Course

But during the playoffs and finals, it’s a different story. Overtime is sudden death for twenty minutes: we keep playing until someone scores.

I guzzle water and rest up as much as I can. We only have a few minutes until overtime starts.

We all gather around Coach Porter.

“Incredible effort, gentleman. You were hungry. You were scrappy. You were determined. You refused to let the Wolverines take us down on their home ice. I’m proud of how you tied things up,” he says. “Now I need you to bringthat same energy into overtime. I want us to walk out of here with a win tonight. Understand?”

We all say, “Yes, Coach,” and gear up for overtime.

I pull up the sleeve of my jersey and glance down at the bright pink friendship bracelet on my wrist and the word adorning the beads.

LOVE

I smile down at it and think of Dakota. She’s watching this game at home right now on TV. She can’t come to the away games during our playoff run because of her work schedule, but this bracelet is a way to have her with me when she can’t be here.

I think back to the other night when she told me that she loves me. Just thinking about it makes my heart race.

I still can’t believe it. The woman I had a crush on for years—the woman who I only ever thought I’d be friends with loves me. Just like I love her.

Coach calls out the forwards he wants on the ice for overtime.

“And for defense, I want Connors and McKesson.”

Camden, who’s sitting next to me on the bench, looks at me, surprised. I bet I have the same look on my face. I was expecting him to call out the defensemen from the first line, not us.

Coach aims his focused expression at us. “I like what I’m seeing out there from you two.” He turns to me. “You’ve been shooting more. That’s exactly what I’ve wanted out of you. Make it happen, McKesson.”

“You got it, Coach,” I say despite the nerves firing off inside of me.

I glance down at my stick and notice the tape on the blade is fraying. I turn to the equipment manager, Will. “Hey, can you grab me some tape?”

He frowns at the blade of my stick. “Uh, yeah.”

He hands me some tape, and I quickly tape up the blade. We all head back out onto the ice. I glance over at Camden, who’s looking down at his skates like he’s nervous.

“Hey,” I say. He looks up at me. “You’re playing damn good tonight. You’ve got this.”

“Thanks. So do you, old man.”

I laugh, and a tiny bit of the tension riddling my body fades.

We get into position for puck drop. As soon as it lands on the ice, Xander hits it back to Theo, who takes off with it toward the Wolverines net.

The New York defenseman covering me is on my ass, so I shove him away. I watch as Theo takes a shot, but their goalie blocks it with his foot.

The puck goes flying, and Camden rushes over to take it. He scrambles to get around the Wolverines player, but he can’t get away long enough for a clean shot. He needs to pass it.

“Over here!” I holler, smacking my stick on the ice.

Camden hits it over to me, right as the blade of my stick cracks in half.

“What the fuck!” I yell as the puck sails past me. A Wolverines player grabs it and takes off. The crowd flips out, cheering as he heads toward our net.

Anxiety and adrenaline collide inside of me. For a split second, I panic. What the hell should I do? Should I chase after him and check him? Should I try to get a new stick in case the puck comes to me again so I can take a shot or pass it to one of my teammates?

I toss my stick to the side and take off, sprinting my ass off to chase him. He’s too fast though.

Before I can close in on him, the Wolverines playertakes a shot at Blomdahl. Blomdahl dives forward, blocking the puck, but then it lands near another Wolverines player. I rush to make it to him, but he hits the puck before I can get there.

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