Page 1 of Mind Pucked

PROLOGUE

JACKSON

There’s only hours left before the biggest game of the season. Hell, the biggest game of my life. For years, the Chicago Blue Jays have been so close to making it to the Stanley Cup. So close, even making it to the playoffs, but we’ve always failed out somewhere.

This year, we have a seasoned team, and we work together like no other. Sure, there are a few weak links. Some of the guys, I’d rather not be on a team with, but we make it work. We’re mature, we’re good players, and we’re a team.

I don’t know why I got here so early today. The locker room is quiet as I lean against my locker. I press my head against the cold metal and whisper encouraging words to myself under my breath.

A couple of the guys are here—Felix and Colin, they’re always early birds. And I think Stephen, our backup defense, is hanging around somewhere with his girlfriend. The flavor of the week. He’s the youngest of us, so it’s to be expected. Usually, we’d be razzing him about it, but we don’t want that kind of energy before this game.

Tonight, we play against the New York Knights. It’s the seventh game of the Stanley Cup finals, so this is the make-or-break moment. It will either be us up against the Miami Wave for the actual Stanley Cup, or it’ll be the New York Knights. And I fully intend on being the one who gets to kiss that sweet piece of metal and hold it in my hands when we reach victory.

I hear some noise coming down the hall. Finally, we might get some energy building in here. I hate it when it’s silent—it gets me in my head.

I expected Preston to be here early too, but he’s nowhere to be found. I could call him, but I’d rather not. He’s going to be a complete ass to me today, and I’m not looking forward to it no matter what kind of player he is. He’s my rival and one of the best enforcers on the team other than myself. It’s his job to talk shit. But he tends to do a lot of it off the ice too.

“Hey, looking somber in here. What’s up? What’s up?” Benjamin and Oliver burst through the door, shouting and waving their donut shop order in the air. It’s part of their pregame ritual. I bet the shop stayed open late just for them too. Such loyal customers. Plus, I think the owner has a thing for Benjamin.

I give them a sideways grin. “Are you sure you want to be having all that sugar right before a game like this?”

Oliver walks over and gives me a bro-hug, patting me on the back. “How else will I stay awake out there? This stuff’s the best fuel, baby.”

Benjamin’s already sitting down on the bench, digging in. Always hungry, that one. I guess most of us usually are. We’re big guys and need a lot of food to sustain us. I just don’t feel like eating much today—I’m afraid of throwing up on the ice.

“You look like hell,” Felix says, always Captain Obvious, as he starts putting on his equipment. A little early if you ask me, but the goalies are always something else. Way overprepared. But I suppose we need that now more than ever.

I shrug. “You know how it is. I always feel better once the game starts.” And it’s the truth. I’ve been this way for a good decade. Something about big games really works my stomach up. The closer we get to the playoffs, the more likely it is that I actually end up with my dinner all over the floor during the pregame ritual. I figured I’d do them all a favor and just not eat this time. Nothing to come up anyway. Nothing that isn’t water.

More team members start coming in, and we all watch as Luca and Kai switch shorts.

Oliver shoots them a look of disgust. “You guys seriously decided to go through with that?”

Luca’s face twists in anger, his fists clenched and ready for a fight like always. “What, you got a problem with it? I’m ready to go tonight. I suggest?—”

I walk up to him and place my hand on his shoulder, shaking my head. Luca backs off, but his arm veins are still popping out with the tension.

“You’ve seen it on TikTok—those game rituals really work. And Luca’s my rival, so why the hell not?” Kai says with a cocky grin, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna do a pregame ritual from TikTok,” Felix comments.

Luca looks like he could kill, but I just laugh it off. His cocky grin and stance make it obvious that he doesn’t give a shit whatanyone thinks as long as he’s a winner. “The joke’s on you when your rival ends up being the savior of the game. I do what I have to do for luck. What does it hurt?” he asks, smirking down at Felix.

Felix’s brow wrinkles. “Oh I have my rituals, but none of them involve swapping germs with someone else.”

Everyone starts getting ready, putting their pads and jerseys on. It’s getting closer and closer to game time, and my stomach makes terrible noises that only I can hear.

Everyone cringes as Felix pulls a pair of socks out of his locker. He grins, holding them up proudly. “Yeah, baby.”

“Shit, Felix. How long has it been since you washed those damn things?” Kai covers his nose and walks away as far as he can, which isn’t far considering the room is packed.

Felix pulls on his socks, which are looking a little worse for the wear. If I had to wager, I’d say they’ve probably never been washed.

“Haven’t washed these puppies since the first game of the season. Why would I ruin the luck, boys?” Felix wiggles the socks all around like a little kid. Everyone screws up their faces. “Take it in. This is the smell of victory. Better than someone else’s junk.”

That gets a laugh out of me, which is hard to do when I’m trying to get in the mood pregame.

However, a strange worry is starting to build. Everyone’s here, plus wives and girlfriends are starting to come in and out to wish us good luck, except for Preston. Where the hell is he?

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