Chapter Fourteen
Matt
We were getting killed.
It was our first game, and if this was how we were starting off the season, then we were in for a tough ride.
Down three to one going into the third period against Michigan State, the reality was seeping into our bones.
We just weren’t as good without Lane and Crew.
Nobody in the locker room wanted to say it out loud, but we were all thinking it.
The room was quiet, everyone waiting for Coach to come in and kick our asses even harder than he did after first period.
I hung my head low as I sat on the bench, sweat soaking through my gear. Droplets fell from my hair, my helmet sitting beside me.
This was so fucking embarrassing.
Going from national champions to struggling to keep the puck in our control for longer than ten seconds at a time was brutal.
Our only goal was scored by Jonah, and it was on the damn power play.
Thankfully, we weren’t playing a home game, so at least we didn’t have to worry about our entire school watching us suck.
Except I was sure El and Jade were watching the livestream, so it was almost just as bad.
Plus, our second game of the weekend series was tomorrow, and it was a home game.
Fuck.
The current silence was painful, and after the confidence boost we received after the championship, this was a huge blow to our egos.
Maybe we needed it. Maybe we’d grown to be too cocky, too comfortable. Maybe this was just the universe giving us a reality check.
Coach ran a hand over his thinning hair as he strode in, huffing. The air in the locker room turned thicker, laced with chagrin and stress. I was starting to choke on it.
Coach paced across the room, then backtracked, his black suit swaying briskly.
Suddenly, he stopped altogether in the center, the only sound in the room being the strained sigh he let out.
“Alright,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention.
Sagging shoulders straightened. Heads raised. We were all aching for him to say something to make us feel reenergized, to relight the fire under our asses that we’d all seemed to lose over the course of this game.
“I know what you’re all thinking right now, and it needs to stop,” Coach instructed.
My mouth formed a hard line. I couldn’t even look at him as he spoke, my gaze drifting away, dissociating.
“I need every single one of you to get it through your heads that Lane Avery was not the only one on this team. All of you that were on this team last year played a part in winning that national title. You’re reigning champions, and you’re playing like you’ve never skated on ice.
You’re all capable of much more than this. ”
Lifting my head slightly, I caught sight of a few of the guys nodding along. Others looked like they were sucked into Coach’s speech, unable to look anywhere else.
“Let’s get it together,” Coach said. “Let’s get back out there. Keep your eyes up. Go after the puck. Do not let them outskate you. And play clean. Stallions on three. One, two, three—”
“Stallions!”
With just a few minutes left of intermission, we regrouped, then set back out to the arena.
This time, when my skates hit the ice, they felt different, better, smoother. Glancing around, it seemed like my teammates felt the same.
Coach was right. And El was right. Lane Avery was not this entire team. Neither was Nicholas Crew. We needed to get that out of our heads and regain our own identities.
Or rather, find our own identities. Figure out who the hell we were as a team without Lane and Crew.
When the puck dropped, Jonah won the faceoff, and we all immediately went into attack mode.
That was one of the things we were struggling with earlier in the game— we hadn’t been playing as a team. No matter which line was out on the ice, it was like five individuals were all trying to possess the puck, rather than one team doing it.
We had twenty minutes to win this game, or at least tie it up.
The first few minutes weren’t much better than the last two periods. But slowly, we found our stride, keeping the puck in MSU’s territory for much longer than we had earlier in the game.
After a failed shot by MSU, TJ snatched the puck, sending it flying across the ice to me. I didn’t hang onto it, passing it off to Jonah.
I was a decent scorer, finishing last season with fourteen goals, the second most by a defenseman in the entire NCAA. But still, I’d rather let our offense do their thing.
Jonah flew through a line of defenseman just as Sunny made his way to the front of the goal, positioning himself for a potential rebound.
TJ and I watched on the outskirts, eyes following the puck to make sure it didn’t fall into the opposing team’s hands.
Doing something I’d only ever seen Lane pull off in my whole life, Jonah tossed the puck behind him without even turning, directly into Jett’s possession. It was like he had some insane radar that told him exactly where his teammates were at all times.
Jett skated to the left wing, his own personal home, snapping a wrist shot that got blocked by a defenseman right outside the crease.
The goal buzzer went off, obnoxiously yet beautifully loud, faster than I could comprehend how the puck even got in.
When the boys skated over to Sunny, I realized he must’ve tipped it.
He hadn’t been getting on my nerves as much, but maybe that was because he hadn’t been around El recently.
Rushing over to make sure I didn’t miss the group hug, I was the last to arrive, and although it only lasted for a moment, it meant a lot, granted how the rest of this game had gone so far.
The next thing I knew, there was six minutes left of the game, and we were still down by one.
The clock was winding down, quicker than I liked, and I hoped our paranoia didn’t bring back our sloppiness.
But MSU had been dominating the last two minutes, and the pressure for TJ, Cody, and myself as our defenders was rising.
Locking an MSU player in the corner, TJ wrestled him for the puck, winning it over to skyrocket behind the net and skate full speed into the opposing zone.
The MSU players barely had time to react, trailing relentlessly behind as TJ led the breakaway.
In a quick moment, it was between him and their goalie. The puck left his stick just a second too late, giving enough time for their goalie to deny it.
With a loose puck and the first game of the season on the line, I hurdled towards it, and thankfully, I had enough separation between myself and a green defenseman to nail a one-timer, sending it straight into the top corner of the net.
The buzzer sounded.
Tied game.
We had three minutes to win it, lose it, or give ourselves another twenty minutes to seal the deal.
I didn’t want to play another twenty fucking minutes.
The exhaustion was running deep, and I could feel my muscles getting sore already.
I wanted us to end it. Now.
Jonah lost the faceoff, but he didn’t fail to attack afterwards, winning the puck back from MSU’s star player.
Being one of the only people open, Jonah delivered it to me with a shiny bow. I took off with it, skating through a sea of green until Keith was waiting for me in the O-zone and I delivered it to him.
The puck and our fate were in Keith’s hands. He wasted no time, drowning it in the net like it was nobody’s business.
The obnoxious shriek of the buzzer was music to my ears. I heaved all the way to the bench, yanking my cage off to watch the last minute wind down with a shrewd grin.
I couldn’t believe we just pulled off this shit show of a game.