on, Shaw.”
I give her a quick nod and my attention returns to what’s going on out here on the ice. I wait for the puck to drop between Donovan and a player from the other team. Donovan gets hold of it first, but then gets locked up against the boards. One of the Huskies knocks it free with his skate and another steals it, barreling my way at full speed.
Here we go. Here we go.
My eyes are glued to the puck as it glides across the ice straight toward me at what appears to be warp speed. I make the block and it deflects off me and back onto the ice. Another Huskies player tries to knock the puck in, and I drop down to the ice in the splits, preventing them from tying the game. The clock runs out at the same time and we’ve secured a win over one of our biggest rivals.
The fans cheer wildly, the sound is deafening. My teammates crowd around me, thumping me on the back. We shuffle toward the opening in the boards as a group before we exit the ice single file.
I remove my gloves and helmet on the way to the locker room. Sweat drips down my face, and I can’t wait to get all this equipment off and take a shower. Even I can’t stand the smell of me.
I peel off my jersey and shoulder pads before I sit down to remove my skates.
Coach comes in when I’m down to my compression boxers and chugging a bottle of cold water.
“Great game, guys. You fought until the very end, and that’s what it takes to win games. Masters, that was a hell of a stop on that last shot.” My teammates shout out their agreement before coach continues, “We have another big game coming up and I want you all ready. I’m sure you’re all going home to sleep now.” Everyone laughs. “And if you’re not, don’t do anything stupid. We don’t need anyone missing a game because they’ve been caught drinking on campus.”
“So, you’re saying we should drink off campus?” Marshall jests.
“You would take that from what I’m saying.” Coach shakes his head. “Just be smart and get some rest this weekend. We start back in on Monday and it’s going to be backbreaking work. Everyone should heed my warning. I don’t want to hear any whining when it happens. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” we reply in chorus.
“Okay, then. Great fucking game, and I’ll see you on Monday afternoon.”
“How’s your groin feeling after that split?” Marshall asks.
“I think I pulled it,” I laugh, and it turns to a grimace when I raise my leg.
“Marshall will rub it for you,” Donovan chimes in. Marshall flips him off.
“I’m hoping a shower and a few beers will take care of the problem, followed by a good night’s sleep.”
“I don’t know how much sleep you’re going to get. There’s a party going on at the frat,” Marshall mentions.
“Shit. I forgot about that.” I was hoping I could convince Maddie to grab a bite to eat with me, but she’s probably long gone by now. Grabbing my phone, I type out a message.
Me: There’s a party at the frat. Want to come hang out with me?
She replies almost instantly.
Maddie: I don’t want to be in the way.
Me: In the way of what? Me drinking a beer and eating some pizza?
Maddie: How do you feel about sharing your pizza?
I smile and picture holding a slice up to her mouth while she takes a bite.
Me: Usually I’m against it, but I’ll make an exception for you.
Maddie: I feel honored. I’ll see you there.
Yes. Yes. Yes. I barely resist the urge to pump my fist in celebration.
“What’s got you all smiles?” Marshall asks.
“My mom. I was just texting her to tell her how the game went.” I hate lying to him, but this is the way it has to be until Maddie and I are on firmer footing.
“I can’t imagine being that happy to text my mom,” Marshall says.
“I’m a better son than you are.”
“No, I think it’s that your mom actually cares how your game went and mine doesn’t.”
Marshall never admits his mother’s shortcomings. He makes excuses for her whenever she does something questionable. And I never comment because I know he sees her true colors. He doesn’t need me to bring them to light.
“Dude, I’m sure she cares. She might not know how to show you,” I offer.
“Nah, if she did, she’d come to one of my games.