Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
NATHAN
A tense, nervous energy snaps through the air as we prepare for the last scrimmage.
Normally, the locker room is louder than a train track with guys cracking jokes and talking trash. But at this stage in the game, talk is cheap. All that matters is what we leave on the ice.
I keep my headphones in and play Riley’s playlist on repeat while I stretch my legs. These stretches were assigned by my crew of physical therapists and are different than our warm-ups on the ice.
Breathing steadily, I get my mind into gear while I stretch. Everything I’ve been working toward since joining the Lucky Striker’s training camp has led to this moment.
I’m ready.
McLanely, Renthrow, Kinsey and Coach walk into the locker room. I pop my earbuds out of my ears and listen as Coach shares a few inspiring words. Then McLanely leads us in a team cheer.
“That was weak.” McLanely grunts. “Try that again.”
I put my gloved hand back on top of the huddle and yell, “One, two, three, Lucky Strikers!”
We break and the rest of the players empty out of the locker room with their hockey sticks.
Chance pulls me aside while the others rampage ahead. “You good to go, Campbell?” His eyes dart to my leg.
“I’m good.” I slap my leg to prove a point and the gloves make a loud rustling sound against my hockey gear. “No pain.”
No more than normal, at least. I’ve been adding more and more pain relief patches as my practice time ramps up, but that’s par for the course. If I’m training more, I’m pushing my leg more. This level of pain is tolerable.
McLanely and I leave the locker room together.
Halfway through the tunnel, I hear the roar of the crowd in the stadium. I arch an eyebrow and turn to Renthrow who’s right behind me. “What’s with the crowd?”
“Tonight decides who’ll be representing Lucky Falls at the league qualifiers. This is a big deal for the entire town.”
“No pressure,” I grumble. Then I notice the Hello Kitty sticker on his helmet. “Have any more of those? I could use some good luck.” I knock my own helmet which is noticeably free of Death Note paraphernalia—though I considered it.
“Fresh out.”
“Bummer.”
“If you make the team, I’ll ask Gordie to find you a nice one.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Renthrow smirks and moves ahead of me.
I slow down in thought. Have I ever had a friendship like this with my teammates in the league?
Hockey means everything to me and I would happily play in Superman’s arctic hideaway if I had to. But I’m realizing that I don’t want to play hockey just anywhere.
I want to play here.
In Lucky Falls.
With these guys who’ve pulled me into their lives like I’m family.
At that moment, I sense a dull ache in my leg. I stop moving and twist my ankle to test if the pain is in my head or not.
Kinsey passes me by and stops when he sees that I’ve gone still. “Campbell?”
I awaken from my stupor.
Kinsey’s gaze drops to my leg.
I force a grin. “Just taking it all in, man. Could be my last night on the ice like this.”
“No way. You’re too good not to make it,” Kinsey says.
It’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me and I’m shocked.
“Let’s go.” Kinsey juts his chin at the exit.
As we step into the bench, I look at the crowd and I’m stunned to find some fans holding out large, cardboard cut-outs of my face. The spectators scream their heads off when I look their way.
I tune them out as best as I can while stretching and skating laps. On one of my laps, I notice Renthrow has stopped and is waving at someone in the stadium.
I look that way and spot Gordie, his little girl, and Cordelia waving back at him.
Rebel and April are sitting in that row too.
Excitedly, I stop and search the rest of the row until I find her. Riley sees me looking in her direction and she smiles beautifully.
Man, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.
I blow her a kiss.
Movement to Riley’s left takes my attention. I see my best friend grabbing at the air in front of Riley and pretending to ‘capture’ my kiss. Then he takes it and throws it on the ground, squashing it with his boots.
Riley smacks her brother’s shoulder, scowling at him.
I chuckle and get back into my laps.
Pucks slap against the boards and the net as warm ups continue. I get in a few shots of my own until an on-ice referee skates to center ice and blows a whistle.
The ice empties in seconds.
McLanely, Kinsey, and Renthrow aren’t in my bench. They’re the opposers, along with some new faces. From what I gathered, the other team is made up of established players that Max called in from various professional teams.
The game begins with a frenzy for the puck.
I’m on the bench for most of the first half but, every time my skates touch the ice, I lay it all on the line until Coach switches me out for another player.
Unfortunately, I don’t get tapped in as much as I’d like.
McLanely’s team is creaming ours. I don’t understand why I’m not getting more ice time. However, I bite my tongue and shout encouragements to my teammates, waiting on pins and needles for my turn.
With three minutes left on the board and a lopsided score in our opponent’s favor, Coach finally shouts my name.
I launch over the boards, accelerating as soon as my skates hit the ice.
After my surgery, I was thrilled to be able to work my way back to skating again. I kept practicing and pushing myself until I regained my previous speed.
But speed won’t stop me from getting plastered to the boards. My leg is a target for anyone who wants to play dirty, so peripheral vision is what I’ve been training for.
It’s time to show everyone what I’m made of.
My lungs burn as I chase the puck, the cold air biting into my face and nose. As I hit the neutral zone, I sense a dark blur at the edge of my vision. I react on the fly and angle left, slipping past the attacker before he can cut me off.
The defenseman stumbles, skating into empty air with a quick look of shock on his face.
My move has been noticed by the stadium because the noise in the arena blows up by several decibels. Chaos is erupting on the ice too as I start attracting more defenders.
I pass the puck, position myself on open ice and accept the puck when a teammate slices it over to me. This time, two defenders try to stick to either side. That’s when my peripheral does what it was trained to do.
I notice a flicker of movement near the far post—my winger drifting into open ice, unnoticed with all the attention on me.
Pushing one more stride deeper toward the goalie, I get a snapshot of the ice in a heartbeat. The goalie’s pad flaring, the defender’s stick reaching too late. Without looking, I snap the puck across for the pass.
The winger fumbles, losing the puck immediately to the defense.
It doesn’t slow me down.
I lean into my speed and skate around the net and back in position before most of the opposing team can reset. The puck spins loose, lost in a frenzy of fighting sticks.
My peripheral vision tracks the black disc and speed propels me forward when I see an opportunity for a rebound.
Instinct takes over.
I don’t second guess it and shoot without hesitation in one pure motion.
The puck sails straight into the top part of the net.
The horn blares.
The crowd erupts, screaming like a bomb went off in the stadium.
Our team lost.
By a landslide.
But McLanely, Renthrow and Kinsey skate over and grab me. They’re joined by many of my teammates.
As everyone converges on me, I find myself skating back and laughing from the force of their hugs and congratulatory pats on the back.
Joy detonates in my chest.
After my accident, there were so many dark days. It was difficult to keep going when everyone was telling me that I was wrong, that I was hurting myself, that my hockey days were over.
Of course I had my doubts. While I was doing physical therapy, a moment like this felt like a dream that I could never achieve.
But I did.
I made it.
Hockey, I’m back.