Page 143 of Falling

But there's a knot of nerves coiled tightly in my stomach. This is the first time my parents will see me play in a while, and the pressure to perform weighs heavily on me. I check my phone, making sure everyone has a ride to the game. Away games always come with their own set of logistical challenges. I want to make sure everyone is coming tonight, and the thought of looking into the crowd and not recognizing anyone hurts. I excusemyself from the locker room, walking down the hallway before Coach tells me not to.

I call Wren, and she picks up immediately. “Hey, Miles.” Wren’s voice comes through, warm and comforting. “Shouldn’t you be ripping each other's shirts off or doing whatever pre-game ritual you guys do?”

“We don’t do anything like that,” I reply, “but if you want me to take my shirt off, that’s all you have to say.”

“Pass.” Just hearing her voice is enough comfort for now, and it slowly helps settle the nerves that are running through me. As if she can read my thoughts, she says, “You’ve got nothing to worry about, baby. You’re going to do great.”

“I know,” I sigh. “Are you and the girls on your way yet?”

“Yeah, we just got here. We’re grabbing some food and then going to our seats. We’ll be right by the boards, don’t worry.”

“And my parents?”

“Clara said they’re already here. I think they came before the arena even opened because they didn’t want to miss the game,” Wren says, laughing softly. That helps me let out a genuine breath of relief. “Hey, stop worrying. Your parents are excited, and surprisingly, so am I. You guys are going to kill it.”

Her unwavering faith in me fills me with determination. I need to get my head in the game within these last few minutes before we make our way to the ice. Tonight, I'm not just playing for the championship; I'm playing for my team, for my family, for Wren, and for Carter.

WREN

The game is about to start, and I can feel the anticipation thrumming through my veins. I glance around at the faces of Miles's parents and his sister Clara, all here to support him. My friends are here too, their excitement contagious as we wait for the puck to drop.

The first period begins, and I watch as Miles takes to the ice with his team. The game is intense right from the start, both teams moving with speed and precision. Carlton is known for their aggressive play, but our team matches them stride for stride. The puck moves back and forth, a blur of motion as players weave through defenders and make sharp passes.

Miles’s mom leans over, her face tight with nerves. “He's doing well, isn't he?” she asks, her voice tinged with worry.

“He's doing great,” I reassure her, squeezing her hand. “Miles is one of the best players out there. He’s got this.”

Clara nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, Mom, he’s fine. He’s been training for this his whole life.”

Miles’s dad, on the other side of Clara, smiles confidently. “They'll be fine. Our boy knows how to handle the pressure.”

The first period ends with no goals, but our team has held their ground. The defense is solid, and Miles is skating like he’s got wings, blocking shots and making crucial passes. The tension in the arena is palpable as the second period begins.

The puck drops, and the game resumes with even more intensity. Carlton's offense is relentless, but Miles and his teammates are a well-oiled machine. They anticipate each move, countering attacks with swift, precise plays. I watch as Miles executes a perfect breakaway, skating past two defenders before taking a shot on goal. The puck flies past the goalie and into the net, and the crowd erupts in cheers.

Kennedy and Scarlett are in the row behind me, and they’ve been quiet the entire time. Kennedy has had her eyes on Harry in the goal the whole time, and though Scarlett acts like she hates it, I know she’s just as entranced as I am as we watch them zip up and down the ice.

“You’re really enjoying this, huh?” Scarlett asks, leaning forward to tug on my ponytail.

I turn back around to her for a second, not wanting to miss anything even though Miles isn’t on the ice right now. “Dude, this is intense. I’m genuinely having a good time.”

They both laugh behind me, but I don’t have the time to even speak with them. The minutes go by quickly in every period, and I can’t take my eyes off the ice for longer than a few seconds.

As the second period continues, our team maintains its momentum. Miles is everywhere, intercepting passes, setting up plays, and maintaining a strong defensive presence. Carlton scores once, but our team quickly answers with another goal, keeping the lead.

During a brief pause, Clara leans over to me. “He's really in the zone tonight. I've never seen him play like this.”

“He's definitely on fire,” I reply, watching Miles skate to the bench for a quick breather. “I think knowing you all are here is giving him an extra boost.”

Miles's dad chuckles. “He's always been a clutch player. When the pressure's on, that's when he shines the brightest.”

The second period ends with our team up by one goal. I decide to stretch my legs and head to the concession stand for a drink. The girls have been making small talk with Miles’s family, and I feel like I need a breather. The atmosphere is intense, and I want them to win so fucking badly.

As I make my way through the crowded concourse, I catch sight of two familiar faces: Darcy, and my mom. I thought my mom would be here, being head of the sports department, but Darcy being here is a shock. I always thought they were friends of sorts, but where my coach is sweet and supportive, my mom is the opposite.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her since the blowup at her house, and part of me wants to walk straight past her. She’s not even visited her daughter who just gave birth. Austin and Zion finally landed on a name for their baby boy, and Marley fits him so well. I’ve cried nearly every time I’ve held him and I think I’mjust going to have to get used to the fact that I might be one of those people that cry a lot now.

My mom catches me walking by and calls out to me. I almost ignored her, but the Band-Aid needs to be ripped off immediately.

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