Page 61 of The Comeback

"I'm fine. I got this."

"Are you sure? Can I do anything for you?"

"I said I was fine." I bark out, then sigh. "I'm sorry. I saw Abby in some guys arms and it tore me apart. It's fine, though. I've got this."

"Just use it on the ice. Skate faster, shoot harder, just don't get into any fights. We can't afford to lose you for another game." NCAA rules don't allow fighting in D1 hockey and the punishment is harsh. I'd get kicked out of this game and the next one which I definitely can not afford. His words have the desired affect, and I nod. No fighting. Use the energy for good. Get her out of your head for the game and then you can obsess all you want after. If this was your job already you couldn't just flake out because of a girl. Those guys get paid big money to show up and do their best every single game. That's going to be me one day too so I may as well start now.

"I got it."

The minute my blades hit the ice I let the roar of the home crowd draw me in, egg me on, and I go.

The game is fast paced and clean. We're playing Minnesota. They're a good team, but not a match for us, and Jackson's scored a goal by the end of the first period.

When we get to the locker room, Coach is in there with a serious expression on his face. "You guys are playing alright tonight. On form. But you need to be excellent. There are a couple of scouts in the crowd tonight, so you need to be your best. You need to show off your skills against an inferior team. It's easy to go soft when you know you have it in the bag but you can't do that today. You've got to tear them apart and use every skill you have in your tool bag if you want to make the most of this opportunity. Got it?"

Yeses, and fuck yeahs, and we got it's echo through the locker room causing an ear-splitting din.

"Now go get em!"

Everyone starts to trail out, but I stop for a quick word. "Hey, Coach. Do you know what scouts are out there? Chicago, and Detroit, no surprises there, but we've also got a special visitor from LA tonight. Play sharp."

LA? Interesting. Chances are very good that Fab's music career is going to take her to the golden city. Wouldn’t that be an ideal team to sign with. I gotta shake that off though. Too much pressure and I'm going to explode. Don't focus on that. It doesn't even matter. It's not like you're with her. I have to remind myself.

"Thanks, Coach." He gives me a nod, and I think his lips tilt up the very slightest bit into his version of a smile.

"You got this."

I do. I hit the ice hard, crowding my center for a moment to lean in. "I need this one." He turns to give me an assessing look through his cage.

"You good."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Ok, I'll make sure you get a shot or two."

And I know he will. I trust Aspen on the ice and off. His earlier words play back in my head. Maybe I need to apply the same skills to my love life as I do to my hockey playing. Give it my everything. There's enough of me to spare for that, surely.

***

The guys pile on me at the end of the game after Aspen flipped me the puck after faking a pass to Jackson. I scored my second goal of the night that pulled us ahead in a six nil win. I skated my best and my knee finally feels like new again. Maybe not new, but solid. There. No problems, no pain, no hesitation. The rest of my body is aching from some solid hits, but I'm on a game winning high that I haven't felt in a long time.

I look up into the crowd, as I skate off, searching. It’s ridiculous. There’s no way she came to my game. Not after everything that’s gone down. But she always did love hockey. Maybe she’d just come for the sport. Nothing, nothing, nothing. She’s not here. Of course. I shake my head in disappointment staring at the ground when something catches my eye. In amongst all the purple and gold. The shuffling fans celebrating our win and getting up to go there’s a flash of red jumping up and down. The familiar figure isn’t who I’m looking for but I trail the fingers clutching her sleeve and land on her. She’s here. She came. My heart leaps out of my chest and I’m about to go charging into the crowd. No way I’d get there in time, she’s halfway up the stands, but I zip over to the boards considering it, when Coach comes up behind me. "Someone wants to talk to you. I'm giving Jackson and Connell to the media. You can come to my office as soon as you're showered and changed.

This is a much better reason to get called into coaches office. "I'll be there."

Beau slaps me on the back. "What was that about? You in trouble again?"

I shake my head, there's a huge grin on my face. It feels strange like I'm a bit rusty at the whole smiling thing. "Scout."

"Fantastic. Tell us all about it at Wingers." I almost tell him I'm not coming out of habit. But no. We fucking killed it. I'm going to celebrate with my boys.

***

You can almost see the electricity in the air around us. The team’s got a place of honor at our booth in the corner, but everyone wants a piece of us. Men, women, they all keep coming over with congratulations, drinks. I know better than to take those drinks. But if I was going to hit it hard tonight would be the night.

“So, spill. What happened.” Beau’s sipping something that looks expensive. For Wright’s at least. It’s not exactly the high-class establishment that stocks the kind of pretentious whiskey that Beau prefers, but I’m sure it’s still out of my price range.

Abby’s face is all I can see. “She was at the game. Maybe the hug was just a hug. Maybe I overreacted. I might still have a chance. I need to do something.” Suddenly I’m wondering why I even came here. I need to go find her, convince her. This will be perfect.

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