Page 99 of The Hat Trick

Brent: You are so perfect.

I imagine her pink cheeks as she reads my message, she’s probably acting bashful at the compliment like she always does. She loves praise, but compliments are a different story for her. She deserves it all, though. She deserves to be told how perfect she is every damn day.

I put my phone down and do my best to quiet my mind enough to fall asleep.

* * *

We endedup losing our game in Seattle as well. Coach tells us to get our shit together, and that our next practice is about to be brutal. He also said every single practice would get worse until we win. So even though we have two days off from any games, Coach wasn’t kidding about practice. I can barely function by the time I get home.

On our first day back, I did end up texting Brandon asking him to tell me his plan for getting sober. He hasn’t said anything in return, and I just shake it off knowing this is what I should’ve expected with him. It’s how it always is, and he wasn’t going to change.

We are all in the locker room before our home game and I can tell everyone is trying to be optimistic, but two losses in a row just tend to do something to your mindset and it’s hard to pull yourself out of it.

Our current captain, Leon, gives us a hype speech. It seems to help morale a bit and we all yell out at the end as we prep for the last couple minutes before warmups. I know Dumont and McQuaid both invited Chandler to come tonight, but I haven’t looked at my phone to see if she said anything about whether she is or not.

Just like our last game, I push all other thoughts out of my head and head out onto the ice for warmups. I have tunnel vision when I’m out here, doing everything I can to avoid looking at the people lined up at the glass. Sometimes when I see my name, I’ll send a puck over. Today, I’m so focused on prepping for the game that I don’t see any of them.

Once we are done, we head back to the locker room for one more speech from Coach, this time on our strategy and then it’s time to play. I’m on the starting line with McQuaid, Leon, Dumont, and Jones. We’ve been on this line together all season, and I feel like if we keep having shit games, Coach will want to switch it up soon. I hope that doesn’t happen because I know how great we can be, but I understand needing to change sometimes.

We fight like hell during the first period and end it with a goal I assisted. It’s not enough, there’s two periods left, and anything can happen, but it seems like it’s helped boost morale with the guys. Coach decides to improve our plays by switching them up a tiny bit for the second period.

The intermission flies by and we are back out on the ice in no time. The other team is playing even more aggressively this time. They are hitting harder and making risky moves the refs aren’t calling, despite it being an obvious trip or hook they just decide to ignore.

The lack of calls are making our guys angry, and it’s only egging the other team on more. I notice at one point some guy chirping at McQuaid so as soon as the puck drops, he ends up cross checking the guy and instantly the ref calls him on it.

“Fucking seriously?” McQuaid yells out as the ref is calling the penalty and sending him to the box. “That’s fucking bullshit, you won’t call on them when I got fucking tripped last play, but you’ll call on that?!”

He skates over to the box and continues to chirp out at the refs and the other team. Now, they are in a power play, and we are one player short. I’m fuming so as the puck drops again, I win the face off, and send it over to my team.

We end up killing their power play and are back at full strength. McQuaid is on fire as he comes out of the box, clearly out for blood. The play continues, I end up with the puck but before I can do anything with it, I’m slammed into the boards, an elbow hitting me just under my visor and I fall to the ice.

Whistles blow as I try to get up, I look to see the smirking asshole who hit me. He clearly went for my head on purpose which is a huge no in hockey. I scramble to try to get up and go after him, but I’m stopped by the sports trainer on the ice.

“You good, Collee?” he asks, checking me over quickly.

“Yeah, fine.” I stand up and feel the pain in my side from where I was hit. My nose throbs, but I know it’s not broken. I’m not even bleeding, just pissed.

“Come on, you have to be looked over,” the trainer says, guiding me off the ice.

I hear the guy that hit me got a major which is four minutes instead of two for the hit. He should be kicked out of the game for going for my face.

We still have half of the second period left, and I know they are going to look me over and send me right back out. I’m banged up and will definitely be sore tomorrow, but it’s not enough to have to be out the rest of the game. And I don’t want to be.

“I’m really fine,” I tell the trainer after he insists on checking on my side because he saw me wince.

“It’s just a precaution, you don’t want a small injury to take you out for the rest of the season because it’s untreated.”

“I know, I get it.” I let him do what he needs to do before he says I’m good to get changed and back out there.

He leaves, and as I’m grabbing my gear to put it back on as quickly as possible, my eye catches on a brunette with green eyes who just peeked her head inside the room.

“Chandler?” I call out and she steps inside cautiously. I watch as her eyes rake my body, I’m dressed from the waist down. I didn’t even bother taking my skates off. Her eyes trail up my exposed chest, lingering on the spot I’m sure is going to be bruised but it’s probably just red right now.

“Are you okay?” she asks once her eyes meet mine again.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I try to give her a reassuring smile, but she still looks hesitant as she takes in my body. “Come here.”

She listens, and walks over to me, eyes still scanning me as she gets closer, probably searching for any other injuries. “That hit looked really bad.”

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