Chapter 12 Parker
“Do you think she’s coming?” Seth asked before immediately answering his own question. “I don’t think she’s coming.”
The two of us were waiting in the ice arena parking lot. It was close to four o’clock, and we were due on the ice any minute now for practice. The goalie tryouts were tonight, and while Mackenzie hadn’t made me any promises she’d be here, I was still hopeful she’d show.
As much as she might try to deny it, I knew she loved this sport just as much as the rest of us.
I’d seen it in her eyes when she’d told me she was banned from playing.
It was something I still couldn’t quite wrap my mind around.
I knew Coach Foster was strict, but banning his kid from a sport they loved was shitty, even for him.
I’d been trying my best not to think about my own involvement in her ban; to ignore the guilt that had flared in my chest when she told me it was because of our kiss.
Perhaps offering to kiss her again immediately after hadn’t been the smartest move.
It had somehow gotten her to think about trying out, though.
“She’ll come,” I replied, because I honestly didn’t want to think about the future of this team if she didn’t.
There had been a small group of wannabe goaltenders getting ready inside.
Some had already tried out for the position and failed, and there were a few new faces too, but they all looked like they’d only recently hit puberty.
I already knew none of them would be good enough.
“You heard what she said yesterday,” Seth continued. “She won’t come, just to piss you off.”
“Yeah, well, I’m hoping I convinced her to reconsider last night.”
“You saw her last night?”
“Uh, yeah.” I coughed, wondering if perhaps I should have kept that detail to myself. “I may have gone to her house to try and talk her into it.”
“Wait, what? Was Coach Foster there? What did he say?”
“He didn’t see me.” The knowing grin that was already spreading across Seth’s face convinced me to skip the explanation of how I’d climbed into Mackenzie’s bedroom.
He shook his head at me. “You really are desperate.”
“I just don’t want to lose again. You should feel the same.”
“Yeah, losing like that did suck. But I think you’re reaching if you believe Mackenzie cares about it as much as you do.”
“Don’t speak too soon,” I said, as Jasmine Cleaver’s car pulled into the lot. Seth turned to follow my gaze, just as Mackenzie climbed out of the car and started toward us. For a moment it felt like the world stilled. She’d come. She’d actually come.
“Well, well,” Seth said, sounding as shocked as I felt.
Mackenzie wore a frown as she approached with her large sports bag slung over her shoulder. She looked as though this was the last place she wanted to be, yet I had never been happier to see her.
“You’re here,” I said, struggling to hold in my smile as she dropped her bag in front of us.
“Yes, I’m here,” she grumbled. “But only to prove I’m right; this whole idea is ridiculous. You won’t even be able to get me on the ice without my dad flipping out.”
“You need to have a little faith.”
“Yeah, Parker’s got a plan,” Seth added.
She looked between the two of us. “Well, what is it?”
“A disguise,” I answered quickly, although now I’d said it out loud, it sounded a little stupid.
“Well, it’s not exactly a disguise, but we’ve got some goalie gear stashed inside the refs’ locker room.
We’ll sneak you in, you’ll get suited up in secret, and as long as you keep your helmet on, no one will know it’s you. Simple.”
“That’s your grand plan? Wear goalie gear to the goalie tryouts. Genius.”
“It’ll be fine,” I continued, ignoring the look of concern on her face.
“Your dad has been trying to play down the importance of these tryouts, so Coach Rainer is taking the lead while Coach Foster runs the team’s practice as normal.
By the time we get in there, everyone will be warming up already, and you’ll be able to join in without anyone asking any questions. ”
“What if someone asks me my name?”
“I’ve thought of that. You’re on the tryouts list as Ken Manly.”
Seth spluttered out a laugh. I nudged him with my elbow but a smile escaped my lips too. Mackenzie scowled at us.
“Don’t worry,” I continued, before she could pick any more holes in the plan. “I even got you one of my practice jerseys. You’ll fit right in.” I pulled the jersey from my bag and handed it to her. She immediately scrunched up her nose.
“Ew, no thanks.”
“What? It’s clean.”
“I don’t want to wear any jersey that belongs to you.”
“Must be the first girl to tell you that,” Seth said under his breath.
I ignored him and thrust the jersey toward Mackenzie again. “Do you want to play or not?”
She gave a small nod.
“Then you’ve got to do what I say.”
She shook her head but muttered, “Okay, fine.”
“Great. Just tuck your hair in, keep your helmet on, lower your voice when you talk, and then play better than you’ve ever played before.”
“Oh, that’s all, is it?” She bit her lip, clearly still uncertain.
“It’ll work, trust me, Ken.”
She glared at me, but her gaze quickly softened and she released a breath. “You’re not exactly trustworthy, but what have I got to lose, right?”
“That’s the spirit.” I grinned. “Come on. Let’s get inside.”
Seth headed for the boys’ locker room, while I ushered Mackenzie into the referees’ room so she could change. We needed to make sure no one saw her, so even the girls’ locker room was too risky.
“These pads are going to be too big for me,” she said, grimacing as she got a look at the gear I’d taken from the school’s storage room. It was the smallest I could find.
“You’ll just have to make do,” I said. “You won’t be the only one out there today in gear that doesn’t fit perfectly. I’m sure your dad will get you the right size when you make the team.”
“I think you mean if I make the team.”
“You will.”
I left her to get my own gear on. I was running late, and the locker room was empty by the time I arrived. Despite what I’d told Mackenzie, I really had no idea if our plan would work, but it was worth a try. Like she’d said, we had nothing to lose, and I knew we had everything to gain.
“You’re late, Twelve,” Foster barked as I stepped out onto the ice. The number sixteen was literally printed on my jersey, but clearly I was still some cocky immature kid to him, and he couldn’t seem to see past that to the player I’d become.
I itched to correct him, but I knew that if I wanted to stay on the team and have any chance of becoming captain, I needed to keep trying to win him over.
“Sorry, Coach.”
I hurriedly joined the team warm-up and glanced over to where the goalies were gathered at the other end of the rink.
I smiled when I saw Mackenzie. Her hair was tucked totally out of sight and with the helmet on it was difficult to tell it was her.
She was right about the pads being too big.
It should have made them hard to maneuver in, but she was warming up as if they weren’t bothering her at all.
There were six hopefuls in total, but to me she was the only contender. She moved across the ice so naturally, despite the bulky goalie equipment, and held herself like she was born to be out here. I didn’t need to see her stop a puck to know she was the best goaltender we had.
“Worry about your own warm-up, Twelve!”
Two warnings in just a few minutes. It seemed I was only taking steps backward when it came to winning over Coach Foster. I waved a hand at him and did my best to focus, but it was hard to keep my attention where it should be when so much was riding on what was happening elsewhere on the ice.
For the first part of the tryouts, the goalies were kept separate, as Coach Rainer ran them through some basic drills. But as the session progressed, our two groups were combined so we could test them under game-like situations.
It was only now that Coach Foster seemed to be taking more of an interest in the goaltenders.
He began eyeing them closely, analyzing how they handled different plays.
My palms were literally sweating. Mackenzie was well hidden under her helmet, but surely it wouldn’t take much for Foster to recognize his own daughter.
The longer the session went on, the more closely he watched her, and I prayed it was only because she was playing so well.
For someone who had never played competitive hockey, Mackenzie handled pretty much everything the coaches threw at her.
Her positioning and movement were good, and she looked confident and focused—her stick-handling was a little weaker, especially when it came to recovering from rebounds and clearing the puck, but there was one skill that made her really stand out: her reflexes.
She was incredibly fast. Every time she reached out a glove to catch the puck or dropped to the ice to save a shot with her pads, she did it so quickly and gracefully I felt the urge to cheer.
We were all given a chance to shoot against each of the potential goalies. One by one, they stood in front of the net. And one by one I scored on them. Some of their attempted saves were so poor they made Anderson look like a superstar.
Finally, it was my turn to face Mackenzie.
Part of me wondered whether I should give her a simple shot so Coach Foster could see her make yet another save.
But I knew I couldn’t do that. If she was going to make the team, I needed to show she could compete with the best of us.
Plus, she’d probably punch me again if she found out I’d gone easy on her.
She gave me a subtle nod in challenge. I gathered the puck and raced toward her.
She tracked me intently, slightly adjusting her position to match every move I made.
I couldn’t shake the memory of the last time we’d done this together, three years ago, and I found myself firing the puck at the top-left corner, just like I had that day at camp.
And just like that day at camp, her arm snapped out like lightning and the puck slapped against her glove.
I stared in shock. As much as I’d wanted her to save it and impress her dad, I hadn’t been sure she actually could.
Since the last time we’d faced off, I’d become one of the best high school hockey players in the state, and the best goal scorer in the league.
Yet she’d made the save. And she’d done it with ease.
She tossed the puck back to the ice, and I grinned as I scooped it up. There was no way Coach Foster could pick anyone but her.
A few minutes later, Foster brought the session to an end with a loud whistle blast, and we all gathered round. Mackenzie kept to the back of the group, her head ducked as she avoided her father’s gaze.
“Good work tonight,” he said. “Thank you to everyone who came to try out for our open goaltending position. I’m pleased to announce that Assistant Coach Rainer and I are both in agreement on who will be joining the team.
Everyone, I would like to welcome…” He paused as he went to check his clipboard and frowned when he read the name. “Uh, Ken Manly.”
My teammates applauded, and Seth cheered loudly, as I turned to smile at Mackenzie.
I wasn’t surprised. She was clearly better than the others; hell, she’d have given Ford a run for his money if he’d been here tonight.
I was just glad Coach Foster had noticed it too.
As the applause died down, excited murmurs filled the room.
Everyone was clearly relieved we’d somehow managed to find a solution to our goaltender crisis.
But there was still one little problem ahead of us. And apparently Mackenzie wasn’t going to wait to tackle it. She pulled her helmet from her head and stepped forward. “Actually, it’s Mackenzie Foster.”