Page 66 of Treacherous
“Allen.”
I spin, searching for Coach West. He is on the bench talking with Harris, who is drawing over his clipboard. Both are detailedoriented, allowing every player to understand their role in a play or the game as a whole.
“What’s up, Coach?” He looks over my shoulder and I follow his gaze. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. I just wanted to discuss something with you. I’ve had interest expressed for one of our players–”
My eyes light up and I can’t help but interrupt. “Who?”
Coach laughs. “Willow,”
My jaw drops. That’s unheard of, at least to my knowledge. “What? What team?”
Coach West smiles. “Here’s the thing, I’ve been hearing that big names in the women’s game have formed an association and an agreement has been reached.”
I’m confused, yet a flicker of hope sparks inside me. “What does that all mean?”
“There is still a lot to happen, but a league has formed: the PWHL or professional women’s hockey league.”
“Fucking hell. That’s amazing! Why aren’t you telling Willow this?”
Coach offers me a sly smile but I ignore it. “Everything is still under wraps at the moment, however, a video of Willow’s match winning goal earlier in the season has come across the team’s desk. It’s safe to say, they all want her.”
It’s happening. The dream that Willow has been chasing for years, decades even.
“By the looks of the season, we are confirmed to be in the finals, so the plan is for scouts to come to one of the games.”
I look back to Willow, who is warming up with Aiden on the ice. I can’t wait to see her reaction in a couple of months. Keeping the secret will be worth it.
Coach West taps my shoulder, pointing to Hayes and Conner, who are signalling for me to come over. I skate toward the defence twins, as we like to call them. It’s eerie how similarthey look, despite never having met each other before coming to Lakewood.
Both have blue eyes and ivory skin, while the only differences between them are their hair colour and height. Hayes is two inches taller with strawberry blond hair, compared to Conner’s chestnut coloured hair.
“What did Coach want?” Conner asks.
“Nothing major. Just discussing the game,”
“Speaking of which, we better get into the locker room.” Hayes says, nodding his head to Coach Harris who is rounding the rest of the team up.
The three of us are the last to skate off the ice, joining our teammates. The energy in the room is palpable with everyone excited to take the ice and perform better than yesterday.
“Okay, listen up.” I begin. “Forget what happened yesterday, today is a different game. Everyone knows their roles and how we are going to win, so let’s get out there and show not only Miami but the whole division we are here to win,”
Cooper shouts in agreement, forcing the rest of us into laughter. I chuckle, but my face shifts as we enter the tunnel. I tap my hand on the top of the doorway like I always do.
It’s the only superstition I allow myself to have because in my opinion, wearing lucky socks or taping my stick with a certain colour isn’t going to affect my performance.
That is all onme.
Oxygen fills my lungs as I take my position on the ice. I glance across to Sam and Willow, who are on either side of me. Letting my eyes flick shut for a moment, I imagine the next moment in my mind–winning the face off, scoring, victory.
I bite down on my mouth guard and open my eyes, staring at the opposing centre. Our sticks resting next to each other, anticipating eating my bones as we wait for the puck to drop.
Winning happens in moments.
Win. This. Moment.
So, that’s what I do.
