“Well, if you make it the way you do! Dude, orange flavored tequila is not the same as orange juice.”
“He was sick twice.”
“I know. Everyone knows.”
My stomach twists. “I’m the worst host ever.”
“If he couldn’t handle it, he shouldn’t have drunk it. End of the day, it’s not your fault.”
I nod, but Troy’s words don’t feel right in my head.
Finally, it’s time for the game. We rush from the tunnel, and the crowd applauds and cheers. I tell myself this is like any other game, but unease floods my nerves. I look for Noah, but too many people are between us.
My focus soon shifts. The game against Buffalo should have been easy. The bright lights showcase our every imperfection, and I hate their glare.
I miss Isaiah and struggle to find Axel on the ice. Guess it’s a matter of time, but I hate that we have to find our groove during the season.
I’m exhausted and upset when I sit. Sweat cools against my skin as I watch while the third line takes the ice for the first time. I glance at Noah, eager to see him play.
His movements are slow, even slow for the third line, where there’s less pressure to be fast. My stomach knots.
The puck barrels toward him, and I lean forward.
“Go, Noah,” I murmur.
The puck continues straight toward him. He moves his hockey stick...
And somehow, he trips as he aims for the puck, knocking him off balance. His hockey stick slides from his hand, then glides over the ice, until it smashes into a Buffalo player.
“Jeez,” Axel says. “That’s bad.”
The Buffalo player collapses on the ground, back first.
The crowd is silent, shocked, then Buffalo fans holler their disapproval.
“He’s going to have a big bruise,” Axel says.
“Yeah,” I say, my heart thudding.
Noah struggles up. It shouldn’t take him that long. I leanforward, not wanting to miss anything, and my heavy pads shift and press against me.
“Dude, I’ve seen people in junior high skate better,” Axel says.
“You think people in junior high fall on the ice?” Troy asks. “When they’re not colliding with other players? You’re supposed to be able to avoid a puck without falling.”
We go still. The audience murmurs, as shocked as we are.
Cameras are recording this moment. This will be talked about. People are screaming at their TVs and googling Noah and wondering how he got called up.
“Ten seconds and he fell,” Troy observes.
“And caused another player to fall,” Axel adds.
It’s no surprise when Coach calls Noah off the ice.
He doesn’t rejoin.
He doesn’t make eye contact.
