Page 9 of Grace on the Rocks

It still didn’t seem fair.

Seven minutes into it, the young defenseman that seemed promising – what was his name? Michael something? Number 5. – managed to intercept a pass from the Prisoners’ offense. The crowd cheered, along with Emma herself. Yeah, it was preseason but the way he skated, how fast the kid was, caused goosebumps to break out onto her skin.

Once he crossed into the neutral zone, he passed it to Matt Peters, who happened to be open dead in the center of the ice. Thanks to overheard conversations and a quick check on the official Newport Seagulls message board, Emma paid close attention to the captain. Apparently, the guy was notorious for not shooting despite having the opportunity. And it would seem that his reputation wasn’t without merit.

Matt was open. All he had to was spin around, push the puck in front of him just barely, and using that momentum, place one in the back of the net. But he didn’t. He held on to the puck, his brown eyes searching.

For what? For an opening? He obviously had the shot. Even the audience saw it; they started shouting “Shoot.”

But Matt didn’t listen, and two defensemen were working their way over to him.

He was wasting time. Why wouldn’t he shoot?

Matt managed to skate around one of the Prisoners’ players, keeping control of the puck, and before Emma could take a breath, he passed it to Alec Schumacher.

The problem was that Alec didn’t have the shooting lane Matt had just given up.

Alec only had the puck for a couple of seconds, at best. He skated closer to the net and crossed it to Kyle. Emma was surprised that she hadn’t noticed him before, standing almost idly by, waiting patiently for the puck to reach him. He reached the black rubber just in time and reached his stick out – it really looked that easy – in order to shoot the puck into the right corner of the net.

And just like that, the Gulls scored.

Emma couldn’t stop herself from jumping to her feet, cheering and clapping. Her father, a man who normally showed his enthusiasm whenever his team scored and was therefore on his feet as well, was startled, but smiled. At that moment, to Emma, it looked as though he didn’t even care if she was learning about hockey for a guy because they were both cheering. They were both happy. They were bonding.

“What a shot,” he told her, increasing the level of his voice so that it carried over the cheering of the crowd. “See? Underwood’s the one we have to watch. You’ll see.”

Emma felt ecstatic. She couldn’t really explain the feeling except that she wasn’t just happy that her team scored and that they were ahead, but she was happy for Kyle himself. Because looking at him right now showed just how happy he was. His fellow teammates skated over to him, pulling him into a tight hug, and the announcer seemed particularly enthusiastic when announcing the goal, which of course just caused the fans to start cheering once again.

The celebration was cut short. The coach changed players so fresh legs were on the ice, and the puck was dropped at center ice. The game resumed. But Emma’s eyes lingered on Kyle, and even though she probably looked silly with that goofy smile on her face, she didn’t care. She was just so happy for him. It didn’t matter that in the scope of things, the goal didn’t count, the game didn’t count. But his happiness at it seemed to elevate her own.

And just like that, he locked eyes with her.

At first, Emma thought that perhaps she was seeing things. She was sitting across the ice, and even though she had good eyesight, it was still hard to decipher if he was looking directly at her. It was her body, however, that revealed that yes, he was. Because her heart stopped and she felt a sickly sweet blush start to crawl across her face. And she could make out those crystal blue eyes so vividly. He was looking at her. She couldn’t help it, but she smiled even more than she already was. And then he smiled too.

It was a moment.

Booing caused her to look away and over to Thorpe who had just made another save. She felt her brow furrow, starting to get seriously annoyed with these fans. They all jump to their feet when Kyle scored a goal for their team, but when Thorpe made a save, they booed him.

It didn’t make sense.

Her eyes drifted over to Seraphina and Katella Hanson, seated in their usual places just above the home team’s box. Seraphina seemed to be annoyed just as much as Emma was about everyone’s reaction to Thorpe while Katella’s sole focus was that of her boyfriend. The fact that both sisters were here, especially Seraphina, after everything that happened last night, after the papers announced Alan Brown, their uncle, as the main suspect, showed just how strong these two really were.

“I think I like Seraphina Hanson,” Emma told her father.

“Oh, yeah?” His eyes were on the ice, only giving Emma half his attention. “What makes you say that?”

“She’s young and she has to deal with so much, but looking at her right now, you would never know it. She carries herself with... class.” Did that make sense? Was that the right word? Emma decided that it sounded right. “Yeah, class. Both of them do. And I think that that makes them admirable.”

“I have to agree,” her father said. “The fact that she’s here, now. It shows her dedication. That this team is her priority even if she doesn’t quite know how to handle it yet.”

The period ended with more saves and more boos. Neither side scored, which meant the Gulls retained the lead as the team headed to the locker room.

Emma leaned back in her seat. The timer on the scoreboard said her body had seventeen minutes to relax before it tensed again thanks to how sucked into the game she was becoming with each passing second.

“I’m going to get some food,” Jeremy said, standing up. “Do you want anything?”

“Yeah, can you get me a hot dog with ketchup and mustard and some water?” Emma asked, batting her eyelashes.

“You and your appetite,” he muttered with a knowing smile on his face. “Well, I guess I should be grateful you have one, considering you’re a dancer and all.”

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