19. Dover
There has been noticeably more activity than usual for a game day, which immediately puts me on edge.
The constant movement and heightened energy around me only add to my anxiety, especially since Levi isn’t answering his phone.
His silence is out of character and makes me increasingly uneasy.
The only reassurance I have is from Rosie, who has let me know that Levi is okay, but that’s the extent of the information I’ve received.
It’s frustrating—surely, considering that my own safety is apparently the main concern right now, you’d expect someone would actually tell me what the hell is happening.
Instead, I’m left completely in the dark.
Trying to focus and prepare for the game, I sit quietly in my cubby, slipping on my noise-canceling headphones in an attempt to block out the chaos around me.
I play recordings of the rainforest, letting the sounds of distant birds and rushing water wash over me in hopes of calming my nerves.
It’s not easy to relax, knowing that something is going on that no one will explain, but I do my best.
Tonight’s opponent, the Los Angeles Vengeance are one of the top teams in the league.
Their reputation alone means we all have to be at the very top of our game if we want to stand a chance.
In fact, we need to be better than our best—every single player has to push themselves beyond their limits.
Fortunately, there’s no personal animosity or grudges between our team and theirs, which brings me a small measure of relief.
That thought helps settle my nerves a little, allowing me to focus on what I can control—my moves on the ice.
Nash nudges into me, a subtle but unmistakable signal that it’s time for me to finish getting ready.
I take a deep breath, feeling the familiar rush of anticipation, and reach for my helmet, sliding it on first. The cool plastic settles over my head, grounding me in the moment.
Next, I grab my gloves, pulling them on one by one, making sure each finger is snug and secure.
My stick is the last thing I pick up, the taped handle rough and reassuring in my grip.
With everything in place, I fall into step behind Nash, following him down the long, echoing tunnel that leads to the rink.
As we walk, the sounds of the crowd and the sharp scent of ice grow stronger, filling me with a mix of nerves and excitement.
We come to a stop just before the entrance to the arena, waiting for our names to be announced over the loudspeaker.
My teammates gather around me, their presence a comforting wall of support.
In this moment, surrounded by the people who know me best, I feel myself settle.
The usual noise in my head fades away, replaced by a rare sense of calm and clarity.
I know I’m about to step onto the ice, and for once, my thoughts are quiet, my focus sharp.
It doesn’t matter to me anymore that the whole fucking world knows I’m gay.
Let them talk, let them speculate—it’s none of their business.
My life is mine to live, and I refuse to let anyone else’s opinion weigh me down.
I roll my neck from side to side, working out the last of the tension, and glance over at Nash.
He’s watching me with a raised eyebrow, suspicion and amusement mingling on his face.
I grin at him, the tension breaking, and give him a playful shove.
He laughs and shoves me back, the easy friendship between us making the moment feel lighter.
Then, the announcer calls our names, and we step out onto the ice.
The cold air hits my face, and the bright lights make everything shimmer.
We launch into our warm-up routine, skating laps and passing the puck back and forth.
I glide over the smooth surface, feeling the power in my legs and the freedom in my movement.
Each stride reminds me why I love this game, and for a little while, nothing else matters.
I am exactly where I’m supposed to be, enjoying every second of it.
Once the game gets underway, the first period does not go as we had hoped or planned.
The Vengeance comes out with incredible energy and intensity, immediately putting us on our heels.
From the very first shift, they play an aggressive, physical style that makes it clear this is going to be a grueling battle.
They relentlessly pressure us, forechecking hard and forcing us deep into our own zone.
For three painfully long minutes, we are trapped, unable to clear the puck or even get a line change.
My lungs are absolutely burning from the effort, and the fatigue threatens to slide in as we scramble to keep up with their pace.
During one particularly chaotic sequence, Nikoli tries to make a smart play by reversing the puck behind our net, hoping to relieve some of the pressure.
Unfortunately, one of their forwards anticipates the move perfectly, intercepting the pass without hesitation.
He wastes no time, quickly firing a sharp, accurate pass right into the slot area in front of our net.
Bradford, our goaltender, is completely screened by one of our own defensemen, making it impossible for him to see the puck coming.
In the confusion, the puck takes an unlucky bounce, deflecting off a stray skate and slipping right past Bradford’s outstretched glove.
Just like that, the Vengeance scored the first goal of the game. Damn it!
In the second period, we finally manage to find our legs, thank goodness!
The entire team seems to come alive, and we push back against our opponents with pure, unrelenting speed.
The momentum shifts in our favor as Rhodes steps up and makes an absolutely massive, fearless block on a heavy slap shot right at the blue line.
The puck ricochets off his pads, but without missing a beat, Rhodes immediately regains control and flips a beautiful breakout pass directly to Dario, who is waiting at center ice.
From my spot on the bench, I watch the play unfold before me, my excitement growing with every passing second.
The intensity on the ice is palpable, and my heart thunders as our team moves the puck up the rink.
Suddenly, Dario receives a crisp pass right in stride, barely breaking his momentum as he glides past the blue line.
Without hesitation, he launches into an absolutely electrifying maneuver that leaves the opposing defense scrambling.
With a dazzling display of stickhandling, Dario weaves the puck effortlessly back and forth, his hands moving so quickly that the two Vengeance defensemen are left completely bewildered.
He executes a sickening deke, feinting one way before slicing through the narrow gap between them, leaving both defenders utterly flat-footed and out of position.
Now, with nothing but open ice ahead, Dario finds himself skating in all alone on a partial breakaway.
The tension is almost unbearable as he accelerates toward the net, every eye in the arena locked on him.
The opposing goalie squares up, desperate to cut down the angle and deny the scoring chance.
But Dario remains calm and focused, his body language exuding confidence.
In one fluid, practiced motion, he pulls the puck from his backhand to his forehand, completely freezing the goaltender.
Then, with incredible precision, he snaps a shot that sails up and over the goalie’s shoulder, tucking perfectly into the top corner of the net.
The goaltender has no chance to react—the puck is in before he can even move.
It’s a moment of pure genius and breathtaking skill, the kind of play that only comes from hours of practice and a deep understanding of the game. As the puck hits the back of the net, the entire bench erupts in celebration.
Late in the third period, our lack of discipline proves costly.
We take an untimely penalty, and Los Angeles immediately takes advantage of the opportunity.
On the ensuing power play, they execute a crisp passing sequence, and one of their forwards sets up at the faceoff dot.
He unleashes a lethal one-timer that rockets past Bradford’s blocker side before he even has a chance to react.
The puck hits the back of the net, and just like that, LA takes the lead.
With only 90 seconds remaining on the clock, our coach makes a bold decision.
He signals to Bradford to head to the bench, opting to pull our goaltender in favor of an extra attacker.
Now skating six-on-five, every second counts.
The tension is palpable as we press into the offensive zone.
I find myself locked in a fierce battle along the boards, bodies colliding and sticks clashing as we fight for possession.
Digging deep, I manage to muscle the puck away from the opposition and quickly feed it up to the blue line, where Rhodes is waiting.
Rhodes wastes no time and fires a blistering slapshot toward the net.
The LA goalie struggles to control the puck, and the rebound ricochets off his pads, bouncing right out in front of me.
Instinct takes over—I don’t hesitate for a moment.
I drive forward and hammer the puck into the open net.
The arena erupts into chaos. The crowd, packed in with standing room only, explodes with cheers and applause.
We’ve tied the game, and there are only 14 seconds left on the clock!
Breathless and exhilarated, we return to the bench to regroup. We take a moment to catch our breath and refocus, knowing that the game is far from over. The anticipation builds as we prepare for the intense three-on-three overtime and the looming shootout that will decide the outcome.
The play begins in utter chaos, with players scrambling for control and the crowd buzzing with nervous energy.
Suddenly, Los Angeles capitalizes on our momentary lapse and launches a terrifying 2-on-1 breakaway, catching our entire team off guard.
My heart races in my chest, and I hold my breath, fearing the worst as they close in on our net.
Just when it looks like LA is about to score and end our season, Bradford, our goaltender, makes an unbelievable, acrobatic glove save.
He stretches out in a desperate lunge, snatching the puck out of midair with lightning-fast reflexes.
The entire arena erupts in disbelief and relief—Bradford’s heroics have kept our hopes alive.
Without wasting a single moment, Bradford quickly recovers and hurls the puck down the length of the ice, igniting a fast break.
Nikoli is waiting, alert and ready, and he immediately takes control of the puck.
Scanning the ice, Nikoli spots Dario flying down the wing at full speed, perfectly positioned for a counterattack.
I dig deep, pushing myself to the limit as I sprint to catch up and trail the play, determined not to miss this opportunity.
As Dario crosses into the Vengeance zone, he draws the defenders toward him with a series of deft moves, forcing them to commit and opening up space.
With a quick glance over his shoulder, Dario freezes the defense and then, with perfect timing, delivers a gorgeous drop pass right into my path.
I don’t hesitate. Stepping into the puck, I unleash a powerful, pinpoint shot—a laser beam that rockets over the goalie’s shoulder and into the back of the net.
The buzzer sounds. The game is over. We win.