Page 32 of The Waiting Game

From the second the puck dropped, the Fisher Cats immediately controlled the play, hammering the Tornados with shots on goal.

None of them made it in the back of the net, but they kept up the pressure, aggressive on the forecheck and driving the play toward the offensive zone.

A penalty by Toronto led to a great scoring chance for their opponents as the puck slipped by Anton Makarov’s pads but not yet across the goal line.

The Fisher Cats scrambled in the crease to stop it from going in.

Felix threw his stick on it, going to one knee and poking the puck toward Jonah and away from the goal line in a desperate attempt to get it out of the way of St. Louis trying to score.

Jonah snagged the puck, clearing it from their zone. Macky thwacked Felix’s legs appreciatively for the save.

“Nice one, Haler,” he hollered, Russian accent thick. “We put you in goal next time.”

Felix grinned at him and Jonah froze, momentarily helpless in the face of that smile.

On the next shift, Jonah tore up the ice toward the neutral zone where their first line winger, Eric Jensen, had the puck in play, circling, hoping for a chance. But despite a pretty attempt, the puck still didn’t go in.

The game remained 3-2 for a few more shifts until Jonah and Felix were back on the bench, breathing hard as they watched Yates tear up the ice on a breakaway toward the St. Louis goal and hammer it into the net to tie up the game again.

Jonah jumped to his feet, shouting his appreciation and holding out a fist for Yates to bump as he skated by the bench.

There was that chance they needed.

Jonah hugged Felix, drinking in the sight of his sweaty pink face as he drew back. Felix was flushed and happy, one small lock of hair escaping from his helmet and curling against his forehead.

God Jonah felt lucky to play with Felix. With this team.

On Jonah’s next shift he took a hit against the boards, winded by the solid thud of St. Louis’s winger as they battled for the puck. But Jonah got the disc away from him, passing it to Jensen.

Jensen’s shot was denied and there was a scramble in front of the net. The sound of the linesman’s whistle was sweet though, and a penalty was called on St. Louis for goaltender interference.

Jonah and Felix stayed out for the beginning of the power play but despite several good chances, there was no goal.

When Jonah and Felix headed back to the bench, Jonah ground his teeth against his bite guard, irritated that such good play wasn’t translating into scoring.

Matty Carlson and Kevin Hunter went over the boards for the next shift.

Hunter was decent but he was no Nico, and the power play ended with no goals.

“Jesus. We could use some fucking puck luck here,” Felix murmured, his shoulder pressed tightly to Jonah’s, and Jonah chuckled grimly, nodding.

When the puck dropped for the third period, the game was still tied 3-3.

Dominic got a great chance a few minutes into the period but the puck pinged off the post and ricocheted out of play.

“Damn it,” Felix muttered, leaning on the boards as he watched.

A few more shifts yielded no results but their luck finally turned a few minutes later when Felix was out on the ice with Jonah again.

The puck went back and forth between Jordan Stokes and Jonah for a few minutes before it landed on Stokes’ stick and he shot a one-timer that sailed over their goaltender’s right shoulder and into the net for a perfect goal.

Fuck. Jonah played such pretty hockey.

Felix collided with Jonah, hugging him tight. “That was a gorgeous assist!” he hollered over the noise of the crowd.

Jonah beamed and hugged him back before the rest of the team crashed into them, shouting their appreciation.

But their lead didn’t last long as St. Louis scored less than a minute later, bringing them to 4-4.

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