It’s been a tight game, even I know that much. We’re up by one and there are two minutes left on the clock.
“Watch. They’ll take their goalie out,” the guy—I think someone called him Dan—says. Now, that’s gonna put more pressure on Briggsy in the net, considering they’re a man up.”
Sure enough, Michigan takes their goalie out seconds after Dan predicts it. From there, the action gets intense. It’s like everyone on the ice skates straight for Spencer’s goal. Part of me wants to tell those fuckers to leave him alone, but this is pretty much his job and he loves it.
“Come on, come on…” Dan chants in front of me. I can feel us both watching the clock, hoping for the buzzer before—”
“Shit! Goddamn it!”
As soon as I hear Dan’s cursing, I look up to see the goal light above Spencer’s goal. According to Dan, the center deked on him? Yeah, okay. All I know is that this means overtime.
The crowd shuffles a bit and a few people wedge their way out of the stands to get drinks or to go to the bathroom. Emma starts packing up.
“Slow your roll, Em. We’re going to overtime.”
“Are you serious? Ugh. Are you actually enjoying this? I can’t follow a damn thing.”
“That’s because you’re too busy scrolling through your phone to pay attention,” I chide.
“Please,” she scoffs. “The only thing you’re paying attention to is your boyfriend in the net. You don’t understand any of this, either. Didn’t Spencer teach you anything?”
My hockey guy, Dan, glances at me, and I wave, wondering if he’s realizing that I’ve basically used him as a cheat sheet for the past two hours.
“It’s true, Spence and I haven’t covered the finer points of the game,” I tell her, “but that’s because we’ve been busy studying.”
“Studying?” She laughs. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? I just want to keep up with the lingo.”
“I’m serious. I have the LSATs in two weeks and you know I’ve been busting my ass.”
Emma turns to me with a serious look on her face. Uh-oh. Serious Emma is a rare beast and I’m not sure I can handle her tonight. “I know you have, Paige, but why? You hate your logic class. Your history classes bore you to death, and you no more want to work in a law firm than I do.”
“Yeah, but you know about the ultimatum my parents gave me.”
“I do. I just don’t know why you’re taking it.”
“Uh, did you miss the part where they’ll stop paying for school?”
“No, that sucks for sure. But it just means you’ll be up to your eyeballs in debt like the rest of us. That’s better than pursuing a career that brings you zero joy.”
I nod because she’s right. But there’s more to it than that. Do I want to go to law school? Hell no. But do I want to make my parents proud? For once, do I want to be the kid they brag about? Do I want to know what it feels like to belong in my family, instead of always feeling like an outsider? Yes, yes, and hell yes.
But there’s no time left to talk about it. Dan the hockey man has retaken his seat. Intermission has ended, and I’m about to watch my boyfriend win a hockey game.
Spencer
We beat Michigan in overtime, but the atmosphere in the locker room is more somber than it usually is after a win. They scored on me—on us—late in the 3rd, but before that, we were only up by one. We’re only a few games into the season, but tonight showed us our weaknesses.
We hit the showers and hear from Coach. He’s proud of our overtime win, but everybody in the room knows it shouldn’t have been that close. Their team is in a rebuilding year, and we have a solid crop of upperclassmen. In a lot of ways, this is our year. The men’s team won the Frozen Four two years ago, before my time, and if we want a chance of doing it again, we need to get our shit together. We’re talented, no doubt about it, but we’re not taking care of the minor things. Our changes are slow and guys are missing passes. It’s still early in the season, so we’ve got time to work on those details, but, like my dad says, sometimes, it all comes down to the details.
And speaking of my dad, I have no doubt he’s going to have a lot to say about my game tonight. I was solid early on, and I blocked every shot that came my way. But when they pulled Gorman and put the pressure on, Lomelli got a shot in over my right shoulder that put us into overtime.
Still, we pulled out the W, and for tonight, that’s enough.
I exit the locker room, expecting to see my dad and bracing myself. Typically, we’d go to dinner and dissect every minute of play. But tonight, I just want to see my girlfriend, maybe even hang with the team a bit.
“Briggsy, see you at the Biscuit?” Herrera comes up behind me.
“Nah, my dad’s here somewhere.” I scan the hall outside the locker room, but he’s not here. Checking my phone, I see a text from Paige, congratulating me on the win.
