Ice.

Chapter Forty-Two.

Finn

I'm so fucking sweaty.

I'm so fucking out of breath.

I'm so fucking happy.

This is the most fun I've ever had. This is why I play hockey.

I'm on the bench with Casey, the two of us breathing so hard that you'd think we're asthmatic grandpas. Playoff hockey is no joke. The game is twice as fast, both teams never giving an inch of wiggle room because we know that the opposing team will capitalize on it.

We're in Bakersfield, California for game 4 and we're tied 2-2 in the third period. We lost game three two days ago, but won the first two at home. I have scored in every game we've played including today, which feels fucking amazing. Something about being in high pressure games makes me play better for some reason. I'm more focused than ever and the crowd, whether its away or home, feeds my energy. But we really need to pull this one out so that they don't start a winning streak.

Winning that first game had to be the best fucking feeling I've ever had while on the ice. Nothing even comes close to topping it. It was such a desperation move that I didn't even have time to process what I was doing. Casey and I had jumped on the play right away and I had an abundance of confidence going into it. I had to think on my feet because that one defenseman that was between us was doing a great job of keeping us separated. I thought I would be able to knock it towards Casey once I got the defenseman off his feet, but when Casey got boxed off to the corner I started to panic.

Then it was all a blur. The backhand seemed like the best option but I knew I was an inch wide of the net before I even took the shot, so I dove for it as soon as it left my stick. I had my eye on the damn puck the entire time and just swiped at it, making sure I didn't touch the goalie in the odd chance it got in. The last thing I needed was for it not to count because of goalie interference.

I felt like I watched the puck go over the goal line in slow motion. It's like everything was silent to me as I was desperately trying to score, but as soon as I did all the noise came back and I was engulfed in utter chaos. The ice was vibrating with how loud the arena was and before I knew it, I was the subject of a huge pile made by my team. 

My protective eye shield was fogged up from the sudden cluster of hot bodies that swarmed me, and my helmet was almost knocked off completely as I was roughed around harder than ever. But I couldn't care less. We were all shouting and cheering and having the fucking time of our lives, and I have never felt prouder of myself. I was proud.

When I got out of the clump, I couldn't help but scan the environment. Everyone was on their feet, high fiving each other and giving strangers hugs with pure excitement. It felt good that we were the reason that everyone was so hyped. They were excited because of what we did.

I knew it was a long shot, but I tried to search the section that Lily, our social media manager, told me she saw Avery in. I tried find that teal jersey of mine she had on, but there was no way I could find her. She was a good distance back and everyone was jumping around that I could barely see past the halfway point of the stands.

I took in the crowd one last time before I practically ran down the tunnel in my skates, all of us jumping around and letting out cheerful shouts and claps. No one even bothered to ridicule me when the first thing I did was tell one of the guys on our staff to get Avery, and then text her before I even put my stick down.

None of it felt like it actually happened. It all felt like a hallucination and I was so dazed as everyone piled into our dressing room. I just needed to see her. I needed to see and feel her because when I did, that's how I would know it wasn't a dream. I would know it wasn't one because I've learned is that the only thing that feels better than a dream is her.