Page 214 of Snap Shot

My niece is probably the best kid out there, taking smooth stride after smooth stride while keeping her stick down. I call her name and hold up a hand. She turns and wiggles a glove at me. The inattention bumps her into a teammate and knocks her over, before immediately wiping out on top of her. Seth, Del, and I wince together.

“Aw, our little star athlete.”

“She is, isn't she?” Delaney beams. “Can't say the same about the rest of these kiddos. And this week we have tough competition.”

“Oh, sure.Supertough.”

“Seriously! The opposite team's coach is the league's coordinator. And I know for a fact she's a hardass.” My sister wears a smile, but it's hidden with mischief. Seth harrumphs. He has a smirk on, too.

“Yeah, right. She coaches a dozen five-year-olds. It's just fun at this point.”

A whistle blows.

“Fun! That's the perfect word for this situation.”

The huddle on the ice and acoustics of the space diminishes the grown-up voice leading some sort of pep talk for both teams at center ice.

“I am strong!” The tiny ones yell between pauses. “I am smart! I am brave! I am a team player! I am respectful! I am good at hockey!”

“Yet to be seen,” I mutter from the corner of my mouth.

“Shut up!” My sister hisses. “This is important. You have no idea.”

“I am proud of myself!”

They raise their hockey sticks and break apart, slowly making their way to their positions. The adult finally rises amongst the little ones, back facing me, rich, dark brown waves of her ponytail swishing between shoulder blades. My heart thuds within its bony cage recognizing the combo of her black sweater, black vest, black leggings—the ass it highlights is unforgettable—and white sneakers.

I squint when she gets to the opposite bench and walks through the boards, hoping, praying, wishing that my eyes are playing tricks. She turns. No such luck. Dimples flank her full pink lips and bright white smile, radiating a happiness I had no part in as Indira Davé encourages her players. Dread sinks to the bottom of my stomach.

“See? I told you it'd befun.”

“Leave the poor sap alone,” Seth scolds.

They bicker in the background while I drown everything out except her. I don't know what I expected if I ran into her, but it wasn't this. Every ounce of pride and ego melts away. I'll give her whatever she wants and take whatever she gives me. All I want isher.

“You're gonna go talk to her after, right?”

I don't respond.

“Youhaveto!” My sister orders under her breath. “Don't be a wimp.”

I focus on watching Sadie play and take breaks outside between periods. Long ends of my hair get a brutal raking-through, the automatic doors opening and closing as I pace.

“So?” Delaney is such an instigator.

“Let me think,” I grit through my teeth.

“When did you get so broody?Sheesh.” She waggles a finger at me. “Don't think for one second I'm beyond doing it for you.”

“Fuck off.”

“Language!”

What to say? What to say? The chant loops over and over until the game ends. To the surprise of no one, it's a total shutout. Neither team manages to get a single goal. Zip. Zilch. Nada. 0-0. Doesn't make a damn difference to the kids, though.

Sadie runs to us off the ice, pure confidence in her smile. Her stick falls to the floor when she comes to hug me first—obviously, I'm her favorite—and I swoop her up too hard. Her helmet rolls off. Gunnar chases after to nab it.

My face twists at her matted, sweaty hair. “Ewww. You stink, Princess.”

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