Austin
AUSTIN
T here’s twenty seconds left of overtime as we stay tied with Michigan. I scored the opening goal in the first period and Michigan tied the game in the second. Our penalty kill is seven for seven and Olivetti is blocking shots on goal like a fucking futon. But if we don’t score in the next twenty seconds…
Gray wins the puck at center ice and passes to Seb, who breaks away down the wing. I skate like the wind to pick it up and it lands on my stick, perfect, just like we’ve practiced a hundred times. I snap a high glove side with ten seconds remaining on the clock and… the lamp lights up!
I’m swamped as the ref blows the whistle. It’s all over. We won. We fucking won! When the guys filter away, Seb stays and I tap his helmet with mine, catching his eyes through the cage, the freckles lining the top of his nose, the sheen of sweat across his nose and the lock of golden hair sticking out from underneath.
Fuck it’s going to be hard when he’s in Vancouver for eight weeks, but I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life that we’ll survive.
When Coach comes into the locker room we’re all half-dressed and chanting, jumping up and down, singing. He doesn’t try to interrupt, just shouts how proud he is over us and we try to drag him into our little scrimmage in the middle of the locker room, but he manages to back away and save himself.
Gray snaps his towel against Seb’s ass on his way to the shower, saying, “good pass Gretzky.”
I want to tell him to keep his hands to himself, but I love the way Seb lights up at the compliment.
“You guys coming to get wasted now or what?” Gray shouts over the sound of twenty shower heads running at once.
“We have press now and then most of your families are here.”
Gray groans. “You’re such a killjoy.”
Seb laughs. “You are.”
“Shut up.”
We change into our suits and put on our most presentable smiles before going out to face the press.
Ma is waiting with as many of my aunts and uncles as she could squeeze into her car or other people’s cars. I couldn’t get every single person a ticket to the game, but they worked it out amongst themselves and the ones who didn’t make the cut watched it in a local bar while waiting for us there.
I can tell which ones missed out on game tickets by how buzzed they are.
They all scoop me up the second I walk in, and whoever can’t get a hand on me reaches for Seb instead.
Most of them know him pretty well by now. He was at dinner for Christmas and he’s been grilled more than most people’s families would find appropriate. And the weirdest thing is, he seems to love every second of it.
Alyssa stands from a barstool and comes to give me a congratulatory hug before turning to Seb and kissing him on the cheek.
“Nice assist Gretzky.”
“Hey this is the second time someone called me that.”
“Don’t get too cocky.” I ruffle his hair and he gets all shy.
A tall, good-looking guy in a polo shirt and pressed chinos stands up and shakes my hand. “Great game , I can’t wait to see you play in the NHL.”
“Thanks man.”
Alyssa gives me a little smile, like she’s grateful I’m being nice to her boyfriend. But why wouldn’t I be? She’s nice to mine.
“Yes, I want tickets for all those junior games I had to freeze my ass off watching,” she says.
“Don’t worry, you’re top of the list right alongside family.”
We take up half the bar, but the bartender saw the game and is a hockey fan and doesn’t seem to mind. I spot Coach talking to Ma at the bar and her inviting him to join us and warn everyone to be on their best behavior.
Alyssa leans over and whispers, “Lisa looks smoking, Coach Wilson can’t take his eyes off her.”
What?
“You’re imagining things,” I tell her, but yeah, Coach does look like a lovesick puppy. Well fuck, what would I think about my ma dating… well anyone? My whole life she was just single, either that or she kept that shit to herself. I always worried about getting her money to buy her dream house, but I never considered the fact she’d probably want to share it with someone one day.
“What’s wrong babe?”
“Nothing,” I squeeze Seb’s hand and kiss him. “I’m just sad we won’t get to play together anymore.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
I groan. “I meant hockey.”
“We can still play for fun.”
I squeeze his hand, staring at the gold flecks in his eyes I think I’ve memorized the pattern of by now.
“I’m gonna miss you.”
“Don’t, you know I get teary when you’re a romantic sap.”
I squeeze his fingers and pick our hands up to kiss the back of his.
“I love you Hunty.”
He laughs. “You too Cap.”