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KAYDEN

G ame seven started with the US and Canada national anthems. Each note of the Canadian national anthem cut through me like a knife.

Yeah, yeah, I know how badly I’ve made fun of Canadiansy, but it’s true.

I never would’ve expected to feel the least bit emotional over that song, but now I couldn’t deny I had tears in my eyes.

I wiped them away, hoping no one would notice.

The anthem made me think of Erik. Flat out.

I wouldn’t bother denying it. Actually, it did more than make me think of Erik.

It made me think about all the good times—and bad.

Even the bad things didn’t seem so awful in retrospect.

Sometimes you’ve got to deal with those bad things to reach a better end.

I wanted to believe a better end was possible. Maybe Erik wouldn’t have , but I couldn’t force the thought out of my head. It felt like a eureka moment. I knew what I wanted in this world but worried it was out of reach.

The Star Spangled Banner brought me back to reality. I felt emotional for different reasons, but my feelings for Erik hadn’t left me. I resisted the urge to glance at my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, whatever—because I worried that would do no good.

It would remind me of what I wanted and what would be needed to get it. And you couldn’t just halt the start of game seven because you’ve had the personal revelation of a lifetime.

The crowd roared from the moment the anthems had finished, and the lights had come back on. It was deafening.

The puck would soon drop, and our fate would be decided. I steeled myself for whatever would come.

The title would be decided between us Larkin Lions and a team called the Bobcats.

I faced off against a brick wall of a hockey player named Holbrook.

He didn’t scare me, but I knew what he was capable of.

Like, he could knock me flat on my ass without thinking twice.

I forced thoughts of Erik De Ruiter out of my head as much as possible as Holbrook and I eyed one another.

When the puck dropped, Holbrook swiped it from me, racing down the ice. I chased after him, summoning all the energy possible but couldn’t catch up.

Holbrook put the puck in the net. Just like that.

Honest to god, less than thirty seconds into the first period, and the Bobcats had scored their first goal.

The Buffalo crowd that’d threatened to deafen us at the start of the game fell silent.I glanced at Erik.

He didn’t look directly at me. I knew what he must’ve been thinking.

He would say that my head wasn’t completely in this.

I was distracted. That was why the Bobcats had scored a goal on us so swiftly.

If I’d kept my mind strictly on hockey where it belonged, that wouldn’t have happened.

Of course, if Erik had just answered a simple question, my head might’ve been clear enough.

I might’ve had some closure. On the other hand, it could’ve made matters worse.

After all, I’d had a hard enough time looking at his beautiful face without wanting to kiss those lips.

I couldn’t…okay, I stopped there, because the thoughts I was entertaining would cause further distraction.

We were only down one to nothing. Yeah, the Bobcats had struck early, but that didn’t have to be a death sentence. We had a ton of hockey to play. Bad things had happened to me during games before, including quick strikes by the opponent.

But your heart has never felt so heavy on the ice before, my inner voice said.

Shut up, I thought. Just shut up . Just because my inner voice had an opinion didn’t mean I had to listen. I would do what I’d always done when knocked down in a game: dust myself off and get back up.

On the next face-off, I snatched the puck and headed deep into Bobcat territory.

Holbrook bodychecked me into the boards, causing me to lose the puck.

Erik picked it up, headed straight for the net, and took a shot but missed.

A whole cluster of players got caught up with one another, and the referees blew the whistle.

Another face-off, this time in enemy territory.

A player named Errington, a guy every bit as big and fierce as Holbrook, took the puck and headed for our end of the ice.

Erik and I both chased him, and I gathered every last bit of energy I had in order to keep up.

Errington took a shot on our net, and Ryan Detenbeck blocked it.

Thank god.

Less than a minute later, the Bobcats remained in our territory. They took a shot at the net, this one quick and fierce, and Ryan Detenbeck couldn’t stop it. he wound up on his knees in the crease. Then he leaned over, both gloves on the ice.

I hoped like hell Detenbeck didn’t think it was his fault. The Bobcats were powerful, as we’d learned through six previous games. Now they wanted to overpower us completely and were coming dangerously close to accomplishing that goal.

Now the hometown crowd was booing. They’d been dead silent before, but now they were actually booing us.

I couldn’t believe that. Yeah, crowds can be fickle, but the Buffalo crowd wasn’t wrong.

They had every right to boo a team that was about to lose in game seven of the most important game in Larkin Lions history.

So, that was there we were, down two to nothing before the first period had ended.

I didn’t look at Erik. I didn’t know if I could call on him directly for encouragement.

I should’ve been able to no matter what, but there were question marks around it.

We’d done a lot of winning up to that point, but here’s the thing: we’d done all that winning together .

When you win together, it only makes sense that you lose together, too, right?

Well, I didn’t think it would really pan out that way. If we lost, it would happen separately. Like, it would happen because we hadn’t stuck together like we were supposed to.

Again, I wouldn’t blame Erik for that alone. I’d done enough to create the mess we’d found ourselves in, even if I’d been the one wanting to clear the air.

Anyway, back to hockey. The first intermission gave me the chance to catch my breath, both figuratively and literally.

As you can imagine, Coach Hardison ripped us a new one in the locker room.

He said we lacked hustle, determination, and most of all, heart.

I didn’t look at Erik the whole time. I couldn’t.

Too much emotion had filled me. If we were going to win a championship, we would have to do it together.

If we didn’t do it together, I didn’t even want the damn title.

Yeah, you heard me. I didn’t know if I wanted to win the National Championship and catapult myself into a pro career if I couldn’t share it with Erik.

The whole stupid life plan flashed before my eyes. I realized it didn’t mean anything if Erik hated me. The championship would mean nothing if we couldn’t share the glory, feeling the same about one another as we had while at our best.

Yeah, I know that being down two to nothing in game seven of a National Championship game wasn’t the time to think about these things. But I couldn’t help it. Sometimes our biggest revelations in life come at the worst times.

But maybe it wasn’t that inopportune. Maybe it was the perfect time to figure that out.

It was now or never.

Before we returned to the ice, Coach Hardison said, “I want to see some energy from every single one of you. This is for everything now, but I don’t want you acting like you’re in a hole you can’t escape. Treat the game as if the score is zero-zero.”

Nobody bothered to tell him that his analogy applied to tied football games coming back from halftime. Hockey was different, especially when you were down by several scores.

When we returned to the ice, I stood behind Erik but had to close my eyes. I just couldn’t look at him. It would distract me even more. Then what would I do?

I skated to center ice and drew a deep breath, in and out. We could win this game. I had to believe that. We had to believe that. Again, I didn’t know if what awaited me would only be a trophy and a veneer of glory, but no Erik.

When the puck dropped again, I felt sluggish but pushed as hard as I possibly could. Holbrook snatched the puck from me and raced deep into our territory, just like before. I chased after him, but he put the puck in the net.

The Buffalo crowd booed us again. Just what I needed.

Three to nothing, and it looked like there was no going back. I hung my head, something I’d never done in my entire life. But the Bobcats had demoralized me so badly that I couldn’t help feeling defeated.

Of course, it wasn’t just the score that had demoralized me. There was way more to it than that.

I finally looked directly at Erik. He hadn’t hung his head, but I could read his expression. He knew as well as I did that the championship was slipping away from us—and that there was nothing we could do about it.