Page 101 of Puck You
Guilt tightened my chest, but it didn’t stop my stomach from turning at the thought of watching Sebastian and his perfect fucking form as he dominated the ice.
“Please just do this for me?”Lydia asked, reaching out to squeeze my arm.“It’ll be therapeutic.”
Beside me, Sam nodded and said through a mouthful ofchips, “If it’s not, I’ll take you to that Bust-N-Stuff rage room when the game is over.You can picture his face as you smash up someone’s old computer.”
“Just please give it a chance,” Caroline begged.“If you want to claw your eyes out after the first period, you can leave.”
“Fine.”
I sucked in a sharp breath as the men took the ice, the announcers rambling off each player’s name.My jaw clenched when Sebastian’s photo flashed across the screen.As they gushed about his successful recovery, I focused on a spot along the wall above the projector and pinched my leg.Breathe.Just.Freaking.Breathe.Eventually, Sam reached over to halt my fingers, pulling my hand into hers to keep me from abusing the flesh along my thigh.
When the game finally started, I couldn’t look away.One moment I was scrolling through Instagram, and the next I was watching with bated breath as Sebastian cut across the ice in a beautiful breakaway.From the very start of the game, it was clear that both teams were determined to win.Denver played with a bit more physicality.They were focused on overpowering their opponents with hard hits and sheer muscle.Meanwhile, our men played a carefully coordinated game of skill and speed, one that resulted in quick defense and smart offense.
The score was still zero by the first intermission, both teams having worked fiercely to protect their nets.Given Denver’s triumph over Dallard in the conference championship, our men were out for retribution.Every one of them was playing like it was their last day on the ice.When Lydia caught my eye at the start of the second period, she gave me a knowing look that said,I told you so, bitch.
“Oh, shit, did you see that hit?Bryce is a monster,” Sam said, showing her normal display of awe for the massive defender.
“I knew you didn’t come for moral support.You came to eye-fuck the hockey men.”
She grinned and said, “Just one of them, large as he may be.”
As the clock wound down, a tense anticipation could be felt throughout the room.
“Fifteen to go, and they’re tied up,” Lydia said.
This game was going to be a battle until the very end.So far, Denver had responded to each goal by Dallard with one of their own.It was a constant back-and-forth that would only end when the clock hit zero.Fortunately, with one Denver player banished to the sin bin, we had the advantage.I watched as Kent, Bishop, and Sebastian cycled the puck around the perimeter of the offensive zone until a gap opened.Kent’s backhanded goal unfolded beautifully on screen, and the entire room erupted in cheers as the horn blew.
Then Sebastian lined up for the face-off, and it happened so quickly that I almost didn’t notice.The referee dropped the puck, but Sebastian hesitated, the other center’s blade making first contact.His stutter was barely noticeable, but it was enough to make me realize that he’d done it on purpose.I glanced around, checking to see if anyone else had noticed, but everyone seemed focused on the game.
Maybe I made the whole thing up in my head.But as the game continued, so did the same strange pattern of Sebastian purposely losing face-offs.There was no other explanation for the sudden dip in his performance.I was starting to feel like I was going insane when I caught my roommates exchanging conspiratorial looks.
“What the hell is going on?”Neither of them spoke.“One of you better start—”
“Here,” Caroline said, handing me a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard.
I glanced down and was met with a table of numbers.They were stats—mine and Sebastian’s.More specifically, goals, assists, and face-offs won.Caroline had been updating the numbers throughout the game, her pen marks littering the page.I shook my head in disbelief, my eyes darting back to the screen just in time to see the referee call offside on Denver.Sebastian lined up and lost another face-off, though this time it was more obvious than the last.He barely even moved when the puck was released, handing over the win to Denver’s center.The clock continued to run, and my heart thrashed within the confines of my ribcage with every dwindling number.When the seconds finally ticked down to zero and Dallard began celebrating under a rain of confetti, Caroline spoke in a soft, sure voice.
“You won the bet, Grace.”
I felt bewildered by the revelation, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to formulate a single coherent thought.“What’s going on?”
“You won the bet.Remember, the one that you and—”
“I remember the bet.”I cut her off, unconvinced by the look of innocent confusion on her face.“Why was he—”
I stopped myself short, worried that I might sound insane if I implied that Sebastian had lost those face-offs on purpose, especially during the most important game of his college career.Then there was Caroline and her stupid little clipboard, and Lydia’s plea for me to be here—even Sam’s insistence on visiting this weekend.What the hell was going on?Why did it feel likeeveryone was conspiring behind my back?
“Did you think the bet was off?”My head snapped in Lydia’s direction.She was wearing the same questionable look of innocence as Caroline.Beside her, Sam just shook her head and shrugged.
“Was this planned?”I watched their faces carefully, trying to detect a slip in their half-assed attempt at seeming nonchalant.
“I’ve been keeping track of the stats all year,” Caroline said cooly.“Just be happy, Grace.Think about how much this money will change the women’s program.Youdid that.”
>> <<
The thing was, I wasn’t convinced I had.
I barely spoke another word the rest of the evening, which passed by in a blur despite my sobriety.Sleep evaded me, and after a few hours of listening to Sam’s gentle snores, I retreated to the living room, made a cup of sleepy tea, and curled up on the couch.My mind was littered with images of Sebastian on the ice, purposely losing face-offs like he wasn’t playing the most important game of his life.I hadn’t thought about the bet in weeks, too distracted with my family and our fallout to even consider the trivial competition.I couldn’t make sense of any of it.
