Chapter 36
Benson
The kid has been hounding Blue since the puck dropped.
He’s a winger in the green Wisconsin jersey with the number eighteen on his back, and he has spent the first ten minutes of the second period running his stick along the back of Blue’s pads after every whistle and putting his glove into Blue’s face mask whenever the linesmen are looking the other way.
Blue is his easiest target to pick on, because Blue does not respond aggressively, but I’m noticing, and it’s pissing me off.
Twice Blue has shaken him off without looking. The third time the linesman pushes them apart at the dot before the faceoff and tells the kid to knock it off. The kid grins and skates a wide loop back to his own bench.
I tap Blue’s shin with my stick. “You good?”
“I’m good.”
“Want me to take him?”
“Nah.”
The next whistle comes a few seconds later on an icing call against Wisconsin.
The dot is in their end. The kid is across from Blue at the right circle, and I am two feet up and inside, and Coach taps the boards from the bench because Coach has seen what I have seen.
Blue lines up. The kid skates in. He puts his elbow into the back of Blue’s neck on the way to the dot.
I step in. The kid is already swinging by the time I have my glove up, and the elbow he throws comes around the outside of my own glove and catches me clean across the cheekbone.
I feel it in my back teeth. The shot is hard enough that my head turns with it, and by the time I have turned back, Blue’s on him, beating the hell out of him. I drop my glove and go.
Stanley is already there from the half-boards.
We get Blue off the kid, and the linesman gets to us before it goes anywhere, and Coach is yelling something from the bench that I cannot hear.
Two more Wisconsin guys pile in. Percy comes out of the crease and yanks the second one off Stanley by the back of his sweater.
The linesmen are good. They get the pile sorted in under fifteen seconds and the boys go to the box.
I get five minutes for fighting and a face wash.
The kid gets five and a ten for the elbow.
Wisconsin loses their winger for the rest of the game.
I skate to the box with my mouth full of blood and my left cheekbone throbbing from the clean hit.
I sit in the box, lean forward, and spit into the small plastic cup the trainer hands me through the gap in the glass.
I work my tongue along the inside of my teeth. Nothing’s broken.
The penalty timer ticks down.
I look over at Blue on the bench. He’s bent forward over his stick, looking at the ice. Stanley is next to him with his glove on Blue’s back, saying something at the side of his face mask. Blue nods at whatever he is saying.
I serve the rest of the five and come back to the bench. Coach doesn’t say anything when I sit down. He puts his hand on the back of my neck for a beat. Then he turns back to the play.
We settle in after the brawl.
I finish every check legally and Stanley finishes every check enthusiastically.
Percy stands on his head in net and makes a glove save off a one-timer at the back post in the third that he had no right to get to.
He makes another save under his left pad ninety seconds later.
The two saves keep us alive long enough for Blue to put one home, and we go up 3-2 with four minutes left and hang on through a pulled goalie and an empty-net cleanup that Rowan handles from inside our own blue line.
Final 3-2.
The horn goes. Percy is on his knees in the crease with his arms over his head. The bench empties for him because the bench knows who won that game and it was him. I get to him last. I tap the top of his mask with my glove and lean my forehead against his cage. He grins at me through the bars.
“Percy.”
“Reeve.”
“Two thousand percent.”
“Merci, mon capitaine.”
“Good game, kid.”
He laughs. I skate to the bench. Blue is at the boards with his glove out, and I tap it on the way past.
The locker room is loud.
Stanley dances. He’s wearing only his pads from the waist up, which is the thing he does after a win, and which Coach has, in the last two seasons, stopped trying to stop.
Percy has his mask off and is sitting on the bench with a grin.
Blue is at his stall pulling his pads off without saying much.
The rest of the guys are a mix of things, some are dancing with Stanley, laughing, or getting dressed.
Coach comes in. “Boys.”
The room quiets.
“That was a hard game. But you did good out there.”
Stanley howls.
That’s the end of Coach’s speech.
He looks at me at my stall. The trainer brought me an ice pack and I am holding it against my cheekbone with my right hand.
“Reeve.”
“Coach.”
“How’s the face?”
“It’s fine.”
He nods once and goes back to talking to the assistant about the bus to Chicago in the morning.
At the steakhouse, the boys are loose. Stanley spends most of the appetizers reenacting the brawl with a Camdendstick as my stick, and Percy, who has been at the table for thirty minutes pretending not to be the player of the game, finally lets himself smile when Rowan toasts him at the end of the salad course.
Coach lets everyone who’s over twenty-one have one beer because he’s in a good mood.
The beer takes the edge off my cheek without quite making me forget about it.
My phone has been going off in my pocket since the third period. Gianna, Mom and Dad had a lot to say about the fight. Not to mention that Lucy and I have been texting all day, and I’m not annoyed by it. That’s how I know I have it bad. I hate texting.
Stanley catches me on my phone and looks over. “Reeve.”
I continue typing my message to Lucy. “Yes, Ermington.”
He looks over. “Tell her I scored the second one.”
“Stan, you assisted on the second one.”
“Tell her my pass was a thing of beauty.”
He moves on to Walsh who’s also texting under the table, telling him to tell his girl the same thing. I shake my head.
When dinner’s done, I hang back from the group at the front doors of the hotel.
The boys go in with Coach. Stanley pats me on the shoulder.
Blue glances at me on the way past the doors and doesn’t say anything.
I stand on the sidewalk under the awning.
The Wisconsin air has the kind of cold that finds the cuts on your face that you forgot were there.
I pull the hood of my hoodie up, and then I pull my phone out.
I scroll to Gianna.
I look at her name for a moment.
Then I hit call.
She picks up on the second ring.
“How are you doing?” she answers the phone.
“My face is swollen.”
“I saw the camera shot from the box, but I only saw blood. Is it bad?”
“It’s fine.”
“You did not need to take the elbow for Blue.”
“Yeah, I did.”
I can hear her shifting around while I think about how I’m going to ask her.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. We won. Percy was a wall.”
“Percy was a wall. He had the glove save in the third — I screamed at the TV.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Lucy’s at her mom’s house.” She huffs. “She’s staying the night there, so I don’t think she watched your game. She is going to freak out when she sees you.”
“It’ll be a bruise by then.”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“I scored in the second.”
“I know. I watched it. Stanley was wide open, and you didn’t pass.”
“Stan was wide open, and he had three guys on him. I had the lane.”
“You were showing off, Mr. Big Shot.”
I grin. “Maybe a little.”
“So, G. I wanted to ask you something.”
“Alright, then ask me,” she says without missing a beat.
I inhale. “I wanted to know if you’re okay with me asking Lucy to be my girlfriend.” I pause. She doesn’t respond right away, so I add, “When I get back. On Sunday.”
“Are you serious?” she scoffs. “You haven’t asked her yet?”
I blow out air, confused. “No.”
“Well, why the hell not, Benson? What’s wrong with you?”
I shrug, releasing the tension in my face. “I don’t know. Should I have asked her already? The guys said it was too soon.”
“You took advice from the guys?” she scoffs.
I run my hand through my hair. Well, shit. “Yes, I did.”
“Did they tell you to ask for my permission?” She laughs sarcastically.
“No, this one’s on me. Boys said I needed to let her move back and figure things out.” I sigh. “I wanted to give her time.”
“Oh,” she says. “Yeah, that makes sense. But we’re good now.” Her voice changes. “I can’t believe you haven’t asked her yet.”
“Yeah, so do I have your permission?”
She chuckles. “Like you ever needed it in the first place, Benson.” I stay quiet. “But yeah, ask her. How are you going to do it?”
“I wanted to make it special, but I don’t think Lucy cares for a public display.”
“It doesn’t have to be a public display for it to be special,” she says, and I nod. “She’s pretty shy.”
“Yeah, we’re opposites.”
The line falls quiet for a moment.
“You really like her,” Gianna says.
I nod. “Yeah, I do.”
“I’m happy for you, Benson, but I need to get to sleep because I’m an hour ahead of you.”
“Right.”
“Good luck in Chicago tomorrow, and I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks, G. Love ya.”
“I love ya, too.”
I press the end button and look down at my phone. Lucy texted me that she’s going to sleep. I hit call just to hear her voice.
“Hey,” she answers.
I hear someone in the background say, “Who is that?”
“I’m at my mom’s,” she says.
I nod. “I was just calling to tell you good night.”
“Okay,” she says, then I hear grumbling in the background. “Night, Bens.”
“Good night, Lucy.”
“Good luck tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
I don’t want to end the call, but if I don’t, my fingers are going to freeze to death. I press the end button and walk up to the hotel room I’m sharing with Blue. When I walk in, Blue is on the other bed in pajama pants and a t-shirt with his phone in his hands.
He looks up when I close the door. “How’s the face?”