Page 88 of Hat Trick Daddies

Brooks

The roarof the crowd is deafening as the team skates onto the ice.

The adrenaline is coursing through me like a live wire even though I’m not playing tonight.

The lights are blindingly bright, reflecting off the polished surface of the rink, and the sound of the skates slicing through the ice sends a thrill up my spine.

The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, introducing the players one by one, and the energy in the arena is electric. Fans wave banners and flags, their cheers blending into a symphony of excitement.

I scan the stands, and my eyes lock on Ally. She’s bundled in her coat, her cheeks pink from the cold, and when I catch her gaze, I can’t help but give her a wink and a quick wave.

The way her lips part in a surprised smile makes my chest swell with affection, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

But then the Quebec Swans skate onto the ice. Their jerseys sport an enormous, snarling swan mid-attack, the design both ridiculous and oddly intimidating.

The Swans are known for their aggressive play, and judging by their body language as they circle the rink, they’re here to win.

We skate laps to warm up, the sound of blades cutting the ice like a sharp whisper. The puck drops, and the match begins. My focus narrows, the world condensing into the icy battlefield before me.

I can’t actually help much tonight, but I feel like the sheer force of my will might help the team to beat their rivals.

The first period is brutal. The Swans come at us hard, their forwards relentless as they push into our zone. I watch Tyler skate backward, his stick ready, watching for an opportunity to intercept.

A Swans winger takes a hard shot, and the goalie lunges, deflecting it with his stick. The puck ricochets off the boards, and Nick picks it up, weaving through the opposing players like he’s on rails.

“Up!” I shout as Tyler skates into position.

Nick fires the puck forward, and Tyler catches it with ease. He charges down the ice, his movements fluid and powerful. The Swans’ defense scrambles to block him, but he’s too fast, zigzagging past their sticks.

With a sharp wrist shot, he sends the puck flying into the net. The horn blares, and the crowd explodes into cheers.

The Swans retaliate quickly, pressing us hard. Their captain, a hulking center with a mean streak, barrels toward Nick with the puck. He squares up, bracing for impact, and manages to knock him off balance just enough to steal the puck.

He sends it up to our forwards, and we make another push toward their net. The period ends with us up 2-1, but it’s clear this is going to be a fight.

The second period is even tougher. The Swans come back swinging, their hits harder and their strategy sharper.

I find myself leaning forward to help the team as they race toward a loose puck near the boards, but before any of them can grab it, one of their players slams into Tyler, sending him sprawling across the ice.

He grabs his shoulder for a moment, but then he’s already scrambling to his feet.

“Cover me!” he shouts, and Nick swoops in, intercepting the puck and passing it forward. Tyler takes it up the ice, dodging a defender and sending it to our winger, who fires off a shot.

The Swans’ goalie deflects it, but the crowd roars at the near-miss.

The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the period, and the team skates off the ice. My leg aches from the tension thrumming through my body, and my head throbs, but I barely notice.

My eyes flick to the twins, who give me a small, affirmative nod. They know what’s coming next, and their support steadies me.

I glance toward the stands, searching for Ally again. Just the thought of what’s about to happen makes my stomach twist with nerves, but there’s no turning back now. This is the right thing to do, for all of us.

During the intermission, the lights dim, and the spotlight focuses on Coach Walker, who skates onto the ice in his suit. His voice echoes across the arena as he announces a “special moment”.

The crowd buzzes as the team skates back out, this time holding signs.

The first is her name:“ALLY”.

My eyes flick to her face and she looks like a deer caught in headlights as she sights in the bright overhead light.

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