Page 61 of First Puck

All I felt was my fired-up blood rushing through my veins as I angled my body down, and lowered myself so I could pick up speed, and I smashed Lance straight into the barrier.

Alex

Igasped as Lance’s hand ripped from my shoulder. All I saw was the blur of red and white spinning past me. A bang tore through the rink, booming off the walls and ceilings, smothering Lance’s cry.

My skates slipped from under me and I tipped back, my hand stretched out to Lance as if I could somehow save him as the white ceiling of the rink filled my vision.

I landed with athud,instantly twisting, keeping my eyes on Lance.

I needed to get to him. I couldn’t leave him, even though Coach jumped into the rink and made a beeline for him, along with the other guys.

We were used to falls; everyone had had crashes, most of us had broken bones from rough games.

But the difference was we weren’t limp on the ice with another player still throwing his fist into his chest.

“Brad!” I yelled, but there were too many voices calling him. All I could see was the knee pinning Lance’s shoulder, his raised fist, and the number 7 stamped on his shirt.

“Watch out,” Tommy growled as he yanked me by the arm, lifting me in an easy move.

I flipped up onto my skates, both of us shooting toward Lance as fast as we could.

“Get the fuck off him!” Tommy snarled, getting to Brad before me.

Chase and Porter had grabbed Brad and pulled him off Lance. Thethudof Brad’s body on the ice matched the sound of my knees hitting it as I fell, pads taking the impact as I skidded toward Lance. I fed myself between his spread legs to get a look at his face.

The heel of Brad’s skates scratched on the ice as the pair yanked him away, but I was focused on reaching Lance, terrified he wasn’t breathing.

This was my fault; I’d done this. I’d made this situation where Lance slumped on the ice, his back bent as his chin knocked on his chest.

I had to make sure he was okay.

Tommy was behind me, one hand on the barrier, the other on Lance’s arm as he hunched down on his left.

“Lance? Lance? Are you okay?” I called him. I wanted to shake him, to wake him up, just so we knew he was okay.

Brad was too good to make a mistake like that. Even when he was pumped up, his control was always on point. It had to have been deliberate.

If Lance was really injured, Brad could be penalized. If Coach took him out of the game, there would be questions from the scouts. And I didn’t know what we'd do then.

The second I laid my hand against the hard shell of his pads, Lance groaned, and my shoulders dropped in relief.

Even when Lance might be seriously hurt, all I was thinking about was my future with Brad.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tommy barked from behind us. I didn’t hear Brad’s reply.

“Lance, just answer me,” I said.

Coach was shouting out orders for people to move.

It was my fault, because I already knew what had sent Brad into that state. Lance wanted us to act closer than ever, I just didn’t think it would have resulted in that.

A thrill tremored in my chest at Brad's fierceness, but I still had to take responsibility.

Lance groaned as he tipped farther forward, and I pushed at his shoulder and arm to stop him from slipping. People were murmuring around us. I didn’t want them crowding Lance, but it wasn’t like I was the only person he was friends with. There was a reason he was the freshman team captain.

Keeping him up by the shoulder Brad didn’t drive his knee into, I reached for his helmet.

“Don’t touch him,” Tommy shouted, grabbing my hand before I had a chance. My head snapped up to him, surprised at the worry which slashed his face. I’d never seen him do anything but scowl. “We don’t know how bad it is. He might pass out if you remove it.”

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