Page 51 of Of Pucking Course

And then I put a stop to it. I walked away…about two minutes too late.

That’s why looking at her brother in the eye is painful right now. He’s made it clear from the get-go that his sister was off limits to his friends and teammates…and I crossed that line anyway.

I watch as the official raises the puck in his hand. I shove aside the flurry of thoughts zooming through my mind. It’s time to focus. It’s time to fucking win.

We’re halfway through the third period, and we’re tied with Los Angeles, two to two. We need one more goal to win this game and secure our spot in the playoffs.

The puck lands on the ice, and Del smacks it behind him, right where Camden is. He takes off toward the Demons’ net. I speed ahead, covering him along the way.

He closes in on their goalie, but before he can even take a shot, one of the Los Angeles defensemen checks him. He manages to stay on his feet and smacks the puck back to me.

I zero in on the Demons’ goalie. My muscles twitch with the urge to pass it to one of the forwards, like I usually would, so they can score.

But none of them are open. It’s up to me to take this shot.

Nerves fire off inside of me. I think about what Coach Porter told me. He wants me to take more shots.

My focus sharpens despite the way my nerves are going haywire. It’s on me to score now.

I smack the puck toward the Demons’ net. The goalieraises his glove, but he’s a half-second late. The puck sails past him, landing at the back of the net.

I holler and pump my fist. My teammates crowd around me, celebrating my goal.

“Fuck, yeah!” Camden screams.

Del smacks my shoulder. “That was a hell of a goal.”

I glance up and see Coach Porter looking at me. He gives me a nod of approval. Pride bursts through me. It feels really fucking good to show Porter that I can meet the expectation he set for me, even if I’m not a hundred percent confident that I can be a high-scoring defenseman.

The rest of the third period passes in a blur. We manage to hold off Los Angeles. They take a couple of shots against Blomdahl, but he’s a brick wall and doesn’t let a single one in.

When the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, our whole team is on the ice. We crash into each other, cheering and hollering. The entire arena is vibrating with energy. It’s so loud from all the cheers and screams from the crowd that my ears are ringing.

“We did it, boys!” Theo yells.

“Fuck, yeah! We’re going to the playoffs!” Xander screams.

“It’s because of you, man,” Del smacks my helmet. He flashes a rare smile.

Guilt pummels my insides. I shake my head. “It was all Blomdahl.” I turn to him. “We won because of you. You stopped those last two shots.”

He pushes off his helmet, grinning. Sweat drips down his brow. “I’m happy to take all the credit.”

We leave the ice and head to the locker room. Coach Porter heads to the middle and addresses us.

“Well done, gentlemen. That was a damn fine showing out there.”

We all holler and clap.

He points to me. “McKesson, way to step up. I knew you had it in you.”

I let a smile break free. “Thanks, Coach.”

He says a few more things before leaving us. Once we’re all showered and dressed, we decide to meet at Spanky’s for drinks.

“We’ve got a whole week before the playoffs start,” Xander says. “I say we get fucked up tonight.”

“Let’s do it,” I say.

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