WHEN THEpuck went in the Monsters’ net with two minutes left on the clock, Grady jumped to his feet with the rest of the Piranhas’ arena.
It should’ve been strange to cheer for the Fish. Grady played for their rival team, and Grady had historically taken team rivalries very seriously. But Max, Grady’s boyfriend, played for the Piranhas, and cheering forhimhad become second nature.
Grady didn’t see what happened. The swarm of players in front of the net screened the shot from the Monsters’ goalie as much as it had from the audience. It didn’t surprise him when the call over the speakers announced the goal would be reviewed for interference.
Grady stayed on his feet, holding his breath as his eyes flicked back and forth between the back of Max’s jersey and the Jumbotron while he waited for the decision. The roar of the other fans sang in his ears, and he nervously clenched and unclenched his fists. If the goal stood, the Fish—and Max—were only two minutes from winning the Stanley Cup.
A 1–0 game. Talk about a nail-biter.
Next to Grady, Linda, Max’s mom, was shifting back and forth on her feet, watching the scoreboard with focused intensity. On her other side, Big Max was playing it a little cooler, but Grady could feel the tension oozing from him.
Come on, Grady thought, appealing to the NHL goal-review gods in Toronto.Come on. Call on the ice stands. Good goal.
He wanted this for Max as badly as he wanted it for himself.
In front of the net, the Monsters players had taken exception to the presence of anyone in a home jersey, and the linesmen had their work cut out for them breaking things up. Max was in the thick of it, jawing at his former teammates, skating backward as he did, daring them to follow him. The little shit.
Finally a replay showed on the Jumbotron and the ref’s voice came over the PA system. “After video review, the call on the ice stands—”
The crowd erupted. Anything else the ref said was swallowed by the roar.
“Yes!” Grady whooped, Max’s mom high-fived him, and Grady turned to his other side and swept Jess into a hug.
She laughed and let him swing her around. “Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy-ass brother?”
It took the linesmen another few minutes to clear up the incipient bloodbath. Even the Piranhas’ goalie looked like he wanted to get involved. He skated toward center ice with his helmet off, until one of the zebras headed him off and sent him home.
They didn’t call any penalties.
Play resumed.
Grady didn’t think anything of it—too busy trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach—until twenty seconds later, when the goal announcement finally came over the PA. “Piranhas goal credited to number 96, Max Lockhart, unassisted.”
Max’s momscreamed. Grady couldn’t blame her; he was screaming too. That was his man—his obnoxious, charming pain-in-the-ass. Of course it was. Of course he’d found the puck in that clusterfuck and tipped it home.
Oh God, was he going to cry?
The arena volume rose again, but this time Grady could make out the words—the chant of the Piranhas fanbase. “BEWARE THE FISH! BEWARE THE FISH!”
Oh, fuck it. Why not? “Beware the Fish!” Grady chanted.
Jess looked at him in horror.
Then she shrugged and joined in.
The adrenaline didn’t let up. Facing elimination, the Monsters pulled the goalie and got three good scoring chances, but then the Piranhas regrouped and boxed them out.
The clock ticked down as the players swarmed in front of the Piranhas’ net. Grady thought he might throw up.
With a half second left, the Piranhas broke the puck free and one of them worked it toward center ice. The wild shot hit the boards beside the net just as the buzzer went.
It was over.
Holy shit.
“They did it,” Grady said blankly. The past ten minutes barely felt real. On the ice, Max and his teammates had thrown off their gloves and helmets and were shouting and embracing each other, laughing and crying, clapping each other on the back, messing with each other’s hair. Max and Baller attempted to put the goalie on their shoulders, but it ended with the three of them in a heap on the ice.
The handshake line was hard to watch. Grady remembered being on the wrong end of it a few weeks ago, kicked out of the playoffs early after blowing a 3–1 series lead.
