Page 103 of Breakaway
“It sucks.” Reese groaned, wiping their eyes. “But you’re right. I’ll live my life.” They nodded and pulled back the rest of the way.
I glanced out onto the ice, most of the fight now broken apart as the team picked up their gear. The ref skated over, wiping his brow as he neared. His face was strained, and I braced myself for what he would say. While Royal Hill had crossed the line, we’d been the first ones to throw a punch, and the rules were very clear on that.
He sighed, his hands on his hips as he observed me.
“You know what I gotta do,” he said.
“Yeah. I know. What about them?”
He glanced over his shoulder, shaking his head. “It’s a complete cluster. It’s going to take a few minutes to sort it out.”
I nodded in understanding. He looked at Reese. “You okay, kid?”
Reese nodded. He gave them a brief nod before turning and skating back to the middle with the other two refs as he wrote down numbers on his pad. It took five minutes before he clicked on his mic.
“I have to say, that was the most disrespectful and disgusting display of hockey I’ve ever seen. This is the championship game, and I’m half tempted to disqualify you both. But since not everyone was involved, here’s what we’re going to do. There’s not a precedent for something like this, so you’ll have to deal with what I’ve decided. Royal Hill, the following players are all given a major penalty.” He listed off eight players, five of them the guys who’d worn the slurs on their jerseys.
“And these players will receive minor penalties.” This time he listed more names, and I lost track of how many of their players that left. Ignoring Kurt’s irate comments, the ref sighed and looked to our bench.
“As for Lux Brumalis, the following players receive major penalties.” He listed off Jack, Cameron, Braden, Daniels, and Tony. “And the following minor penalties.” I counted them off as he read through the list, leaving only two players, and I wondered if the old ref was up to something. The twinkle in his eye told me he had found a loophole, a way to make things right.
“There are five minutes left in the period, which means the only players eligible to play the rest of the game are the two from Lux and the two from Royal Hill. Everyone else goes to the penalty box. And no, I don’t care that you all won’t fit. You should’ve thought about that before ruining a perfectly good game!”
I held in a chuckle as he skated off, shaking his head. I turned to Reese, finding them pushing their shoulders back and holding their head up.
“You got this, Reese,” I said confidently, leaving no question in my tone.
Out of all the things I’d learned this year, it was that Reese was a damn good player and had earned their spot on this team. The remaining Blizzards smacked Reese on the back as they transferred themselves into the penalty box. It was like the opposite of a clown car as they tried to fit themselves inside. They ended up having to sit on laps and stand side to side in order to make it work.
“Okay, that alone might have been worth it,” Reed whispered.
I choked back my laugh as I hid a smile. His hand rested on my hip, and I didn’t have it in me to yell at him to return to his post. The ref eyed him in the box but chose to ignore it, too. Dax passed drinks over the barrier to the out players. It was cute how worried he was about their hydration.
“Kick butt, Reese! Block the goal, Molly!” the crowd shouted, getting behind the lone player and goalie left.
Reese nodded, smiling as they stepped back onto the ice, confidence filling them with each glide toward the middle. A player I didn’t know stood in the center, looking around at the crowd. I could practically see them gulp as Reese approached. This hadn’t been a player initially on the Blizzards who’d defected when Anders did and joined Kurt, so I had no idea their skill level.
The ref dropped the puck, and Reese grabbed it, skating around the player toward the goal before the Royal Hill player’s stick even hit the ice. Reese aimed for the goal, missing the shot as it pinged off the posts.
The crowd kept encouraging the players as they did the same routine over and over, skating back to the center and waiting for the puck to drop. The Royal Hill player made a goal, bringing the score to 2-1, but Reese made their next shot and kept the two-point lead.
The following five minutes crawled as Reese and the other player battled it out, trading shots and racing up and down the ice. Both of them were lagging a few minutes in, their hits becoming sloppier as they fought over the puck. Hockey wasn’t meant to be a one-person sport, so having all the responsibilities of a five-person line was draining.
The last minutes counted down, and the Royal Hill player scored twice and tied the score. The ref dropped the puck one last time as they battled it out as the last few seconds ran down, the reality of overtime was now on their shoulders, and with it the return of half of their team.
“You got this! Don’t let him get the puck!” I shouted, despite the obviousness.
The other player snatched the puck and ran toward our goal, Reese hot on their tails. In a move Susie taught Reese, they skated up next to them, reached out, and hit the puck backward, skating with it before turning; the other player none the wiser until Reese was already a good portion down the ice.
Reese dug in with their skates, pushing the puck with everything they had as they neared the goal. The stands stood on their feet as the Royal Hill player neared and the goalie left their post to help block. But while the two Cavillers’ had focused on Reese, Molly had also left the goal.
Reese shot the puck back to the left, faking out the goalie to where Molly stood at the center. She lifted her stick and struck a second after they’d realized their mistake. The Royal Hill goalie turned to rush back to his post. But it was too late. He wouldn’t make it.
The puck soared through the air, slid across the ice and into the goal just as the buzzer sounded, the cherry on top of the goal lighting up as it flashed. It was a goalie goal!
We won.
WE WON!