Page 128 of My Pucked Up Enemy

Tie game.

I slam my blocker into the post. Hard. Too hard.

“Hey,” Parker says as he skates by. “You’ve got this. Reset.”

I glance up to the stands for just a second, but I see her. Nina, right in her usual seat, eyes locked on me. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look worried.

I breathe in. Out. And we go again.

***

The second period opens with violence.

Ethan gets tripped going into the boards. No call. He hops up, jaw tight, but keeps it clean.

He skates past the ref and says, "That was a clear trip. You can’t let that go, not in a game like this."

The puck pops out behind their net. Parker dishes it to Connor, who punches it in with a gritty rebound.

2–1 Acers.

The place goes berserk.

Edmonton amps up the physicality. Their winger boards Mikey. Still no call. Mikey glares but skates off.

Next shift, chirping erupts mid-ice.

“You even belong out here?” One of their players taunts Ethan.

Ethan grins. “I belong wherever you’re losing.”

The ref gets between them. “Play the puck, gentlemen.”

Oilers fire off a rocket. I slide across the crease with my glove out and snag it clean.

Their sniper stares.

“You’re lucky,” he says.

I grin behind the cage. “I’m better than lucky. Try again.”

They get another power play because James is called for hooking during a chaotic shift in our zone. He slams the penalty box door shut behind him, muttering a string of curses.

"Soft call," Dillon growls from the bench. "He barely touched him."

We kill the penalty, just barely. Ethan blocks a shot with his shin and limps through the next shift. I make two sprawling saves and cover the puck as three Oilers crash the crease.

“Breathe, boys!” Coach yells. “Weather the storm!”

It’s like a war zone. I’m soaked, panting, but focused.

Nina’s words come back like a drumbeat.

Control what you can. Champions regroup quickly.

I tune out everything else.

Third period. Oilers tie it again. A perfect screen in front, and I never see it until it’s behind me.

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