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Luke

L ennon is absolutely breathtaking to witness right now. She is on top of her game and is moving with such certainty, such confidence, no one can take their eyes off her. Even with power plays and shorthanded rushes, she’s maintained her composure and has continued to shut out Remington.

The feeling I have watching her reminds me of the feeling I had when I was on the ice myself. The thrill of sending a puck into the board with a block or snapping a glove save and gaining a moment to breathe.

It’s incredible. I thought I had lost this feeling forever, but over the course of this season, she’s reignited it for me.

But as well as Lennon is playing, the rest of the game is growing dirtier and dirtier. Remington is throwing a fair share of cheap shots, and the refs are letting a lot of it slide. To be fair, the Huskies are throwing it right back. But the tension is rising to an unbearable level, and honestly, we just need this period to end. Aubrey needs to cool off, and the rest of the team needs a break.

We’re so close, down to the final couple of minutes, when one of Remington’s players steals the puck and goes racing down the ice toward our goal. Aubrey is tangled up with her the whole way. Elbows are flying, and their sticks are hitting each other as much as they are the ice.

They’re flying at full speed, and as they cross the blue line, I wait for one of them to pull back. To slow it down. Lennon is obviously waiting for that too and falls back in the crease even to give them a little more room.

But they don’t stop.

They don’t pull back.

And in what appears to be sickening, horrifying, slow motion, the two of them barrel into Lennon at full speed. The impact sends her backwards into the goal frame, knocking it loose. It’s an absolute pile up as they all go slamming into the boards, glass shaking, hearts stopping.

Because Lennon already had her back to the board, she takes the brunt of the impact, and I watch with my entire heart falling out of my chest as she crumples into a heap after the hit.

Panic swells like a tornado, and I push to the front of the bench as I try to keep a grip on reality, but it slips through my fingers.

I don’t just see Lennon crashing into the boards with a sickening thud. I don’t just see her lying there motionless on the ice as silence befalls the arena.

I see myself. I see the video I’ve watched countless times as a form of self-torture. I see me lying on the ice, motionless, stunned, out of it. And then I see the darkness that came after. The pain, the anger, the panic when I knew my life would never be the same.

I thought it was the worst thing that could ever happen to me.

But it’s not. It’s seeing it happen to the person I love. Right in front of my very eyes.

And it’s because of that that I don’t think. I don’t think about how a coach should be reacting in this moment. I don’t think about my composure and letting our team doctor handle it out on the ice.

I only think about her.

Jumping over the boards, I take off toward Lennon, my dress shoes slick against the ice, but I keep my feet under me. The refs separate a screaming Aubrey from the Remington player, while Austen gets into it with another one and more teammates get involved.

I bypass them all and kneel beside Dr. Ray as he speaks to Lennon softly. The ice soaks the fabric of my pants, but I ignore it. Nothing else matters as I finally get a glimpse of her face through her mask.

Which thankfully, is still in place.

But my relief is short-lived as Lennon’s eyes remain shut. The breath in my lungs catches, and I don’t know how long I hold it. It feels like hours, but I’m sure it’s only moments. But it’s like my body forgot how to function properly through the flashing images in my head of the past and the present horror of Lennon lying here now.

I’m too scared to touch her, so my hands flutter uselessly, searching for a purpose, for a solution, and coming up blank.

Dr. Ray leans over and repeats Lennon’s name.

After a few more sickening moments where I think I might throw up right here on the ice, Lennon finally stirs. I lean closer to see every single line of her face come back to life.

But when she opens her eyes, it’s clear she’s still very much out of it. She blinks, eyes vacant and hazy, missing all her spunk and ferocity she usually has behind them.

“Baby,” I say, forgetting myself, the audience, my surroundings. None of it matters as she whimpers, and the sound cleaves my heart in two. “I’m right here. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“What happened?” Her voice cracks, and her stare remains unfocused.

Dr. Ray gives me a sharp look and nudges his shoulder forward, as if to push me out of the way. Every instinct screams at me to push back, to not be forced away, but he’s the one who can help her.

When it’s clear she’s not going to be able to skate off the ice herself right now, Dr. Ray motions for a stretcher. I step forward to help her on, but he places a hand in the center of my chest. “I think it’s best if you back up, right now.”

“Take your hand off of me,” I practically growl.

“Step back, Holloway.”

It goes against everything inside of me, but I relent and let his team get her loaded. They disappear down the tunnels, and my stomach twists the moment she’s out of my sight.

When I return to the bench, I plan to leave and follow Lennon, but Alice stops me. “Miller is going in. She needs you out here.”

But my girl needs me back there.

“But I think?—”

“I think I gave you an order,” Alice says with authority she’s never used with me. Her eyes are narrowed, and I have a hard time reading her expression.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What did I just do…

She levels one last look at me before she turns to the team. “We have two minutes left in this period. Finish strong.”

Those final two minutes feel like a lifetime as I bounce anxiously on my toes, needing to get back to Lennon. And finally when the buzzer sounds and we make it back to the locker room, absolute fury rushes over me as Aubrey continues to spout off about Remington.

“Why the hell did I get a penalty when she’s the one who pushed me? It’s bullshit. It’s like we’re playing the refs out there, too.” She throws her helmet down and even though I know I should ignore it, go find Lennon, and keep my mouth shut, I can’t.

I fucking can’t.

I’m across the locker room in three steps, taking her and the surrounding girls by surprise. “You got a penalty because you were being fucking reckless out there,” I seethe. “Did you suddenly forget any fucking awareness of how much ice you had left as you continued at the speed you did, toward your own fucking teammate? While you were too wrapped up in trying to maintain your pride and not be outskated by your opponent, you sacrificed your goalie. Your fucking goalie!” My voice is rising with each word, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, but I don’t care.

Aubrey shrinks back, but all I see is red.

“You could’ve just ruined her life with your brainless fucking move. You better pray to whatever god you have that she’s alright?—”

“Coach Holloway!” Alice snaps behind me.

My chest heaves, and suddenly Alice stands between me and Aubrey, and she glares up at me with the heat of a thousand suns.

“Hallway. Now.”

I don’t look at anyone as I exit, but I feel the weight of their stares.

As soon as the door shuts to the locker room I whirl around on Alice.

“That could’ve been a career ending hit,” I yell.

She holds her hands up in defense, but a deep frown mars her forehead. “Not every hit is like yours, and it’s not an excuse to berate your players. Where the fuck is your head at right now?”

Not every hit is like mine, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen. And that it can’t happen at any point during a game. And the idea of it happening to her…

“Luke, I don’t know what is going on right now, but I promise you,” she says, voice deathly low, “if this is what I think this is…”

Hands on my hips, I stare down at my feet and bite my tongue.

“It better not be what I think,” she finally says.

It’s exactly what she thinks.

And everything that we’ve done so far to avoid it has fallen apart in a matter of minutes.

And you know what…I don’t even fucking care.

All I need to see is that history isn’t repeating itself.