by K R Collins
She browses Gothenburg’s schedule as she eats. Their regular season hasn’t begun. She taps her fork on the table as she chews her eggs. One bite. A second. She groans and pulls her phone out so she can text back.
You’ll score in your first game too.
She keeps her phone on the table but it doesn’t light up as she finishes her breakfast. She continues to check it as she dresses for practice and reviews the game tape before it’s time to drive to the rink.
She’s walking into the locker room when Elsa answers with a video of her at practice. It’s fifteen shaky seconds of Elsa doing some filthy stick work before she roofs the puck.
Sophie’s mouth goes dry. She rallies enough to type out, it’s more impressive when there’s a goalie in the net.
ELSA: Guess I’ll have to try harder.
“Hey!” Merlin snatches her phone out her hands. “No phones in the locker room.”
“Like you don’t play Candy Crush every day.” She steals her phone back. If her team knows Elsa’s sending her videos, they’ll ask if Elsa’s coming next year. Or, worse, they’ll see Elsa sending her hockey videos, and it will reignite the hockey-porn folder discussion. Not wanting to deal with either, she drops her phone into her bag.
“I wouldn’t have to entertain myself if you didn’t take forever in the shower.”
Sophie slowly turns to Merlin. “I take too long in the shower?” she repeats.
Merlin inches away from her and looks to Theo for help. The big d-man shakes his head shakes his head. “Your grave, buddy.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re waiting for me because I have a shit-ton of media to do every day, but if you want to help, I could probably manage to get out of here faster.”
“No way. You have a better face for cameras. I mean—”
“You should’ve kept your mouth shut,” Theo says.
Sophie lets it go, but later, when she’s talking to Mary Beth, she makes sure to look over at Merlin. He ducks behind Lindy, and Sophie’s smile sharpens.
“Do I want to know?” Mary Beth asks.
“Probably not. How early should I be here tomorrow?”
“Don’t mess with your pregame routine but as early as you can. The first home game is always a big one.”
Sophie’s smile softens into something gentler.
Chapter Six
THEY OPEN AT home against Montreal. Despite facing them five times last season, Sophie still feels a buzz of excitement as the game approaches. It will always be surreal to play against the Mammoths. Her dad’s side of the family lives in Montreal so she grew up watching the Mammoths play, live if they were in-season or reruns of their historic Cup season if they weren’t.
Her first hockey jersey had Bobby Brindle’s name on the back. He’s a commentator now instead of a player, but it’s still weird to play against his team. Watching him lift the Cup was her inspiration to play in the NAHL. Part of her wishes she could play against him to prove herself against a childhood hero.
She’ll have to settle for beating his team. They’re still a challenge even with Brindle retired. Gabriel Ducasse, Captain Canada, plays for them, and he works as a measuring stick. They briefly crossed paths at the Stuttgart Winter Games. It was her first invitation to the big stage, and he was a veteran. He congratulated her on being the top scorer on the women’s side, a memory she’ll carry with her for the rest of her life.
She also remembers the way he dumped her on her ass in her first NAHL game against him. She’ll be better this game.
She shows up to the Northeastern Mountain Sports Arena two hours earlier than usual, well-rested from her nap. She heads into the lobby to meet with the fans who are already here. She isn’t the only one. Matty, X, and Garfield are here in their game day suits. They wave to the fans who jump and cheer in excitement.
Sophie goes for the far end of the crowd and smiles at a teenager in a Condors jersey and a Red Sox hat.
“If you win tonight, I can sleep in and skip first period tomorrow.”
“But no pressure.” Sophie smiles at him. “What do you have first period?”
“Chemistry. It sucks.”
“I wasn’t very good at chemistry.” She signs the outstretched sleeve of his jersey. “One of my teammates was so he helped me study on long bus rides.”
A girl with a high ponytail pushes her way to the font of the crowd. “I get popcorn for every goal you score.”
There’s something unfair about parents who offer their kids rewards based on Sophie’s play.
“Well, I get to go to Disney if you win the Maple Cup,” another girl volunteers.
“We’ll do our best,” Sophie says and moves down the line.
“Disney,” Sophie repeats as she straps her pads on.
“Do you remember who said it?” Zinger asks. “Maybe if we win, they’ll take you with them.”
She facewashes him but without her gloves on it isn’t nearly as effective. Last year, she came into the League as the last pick of the draft, and she had to prove she was better than everyone thought she was. Now, returning for her second season as the reigning Maddow Trophy winner, she has to prove she’s better than herself. The Maple Cup is too lofty a goal to be thinking about now. First, they need to actually make the playoffs. They begin with tonight’s game. The secret to a winning season is taking it one game at a time.
“Maybe the parents won’t even go.” Zinger waits for her to pull her jersey over her head so he can tap the A. “You’re responsible and shit now.”
Merlin raps his knuckles furiously on the wooden stalls and glares at Zinger.
“The A means I’m responsible for wrangling you lot, not some stranger’s kids.”
Zinger strokes his chin as if he has a beard and not a few scattered hairs. “So you’ll take me to Disney if we win the Cup this year?”
Merlin groans and looks as if he’s considering knocking Zinger’s head against the stall so Sophie laughs and smoothly changes the subject.
Tonight’s crowd is as loud as Cleveland’s but this one cheers for her. The stands are filled with girls wearing her jersey and there are signs reading “If she can do it, I can do it” with pictures of kids in their hockey gear.
Sophie takes a minute to look around, and she waves at as many fans as she can. She’s spent most of her hockey career proving people wrong but tonight, as the stadium swells with noise for her team and as people wave their arms to capture her attention, she has the opportunity to prove them right.
When she’s playing at the top of her game, it feels as if she’s playing chess while everyone else is playing checkers. They skip over pieces as they try to move from one end to the other, but she sees the whole board and all the options laid out before her. If she brings the puck here then the defense will move there, and her team will open up there and—
She dekes around a defender and flicks the puck over to Theo. He rifles it on the net. Merlin’s there, his stick on the ice, and the puck hits the shaft of his stick and changes direction enough to get by the goalie.
Merlin throws his hands up in the air. Sophie crashes into him and wraps him up in a hug. “Way to be in the right place.”
Theo knocks the two of them into the boards with the force of his hug. “He’s a small target. I’m glad I could make it work.”
“Fuck you! I’m not small!”
They bicker on the way to the bench, moving on from size to whether it takes more skill to aim the puck at the deflector or to be the deflector. Sophie jumps in to say, “I think I was the real MVP of the play,” and laughs as they both puff up and tell her a secondary assist is basically a pity point.
Ducasse knocks Sophie into the glass hard enough to stun her. While she regains her bearings, he steals the puck. She chases him down the length of the ice and catches up to him in time to poke the puck away before he can do anything dangerous with it.
The puck trickles to the corner and Witzer battles Cassady for it. They exchange elbows and hip checks as t
hey each try to gain the advantage. Sophie lurks at the edge of their battle, waiting to see which way the puck will go.
“We’re going to wipe the ice with you,” Ducasse says.
Witzer works the puck loose, and Merlin scoops it up.
“Not with that work ethic,” Sophie tells him.
He cross-checks her as they skate after Merlin.
Sophie plants herself in front of LaJoie and holds her ground even as he tries to swat her away with his paddle. She shifts her weight to her left skate so he can’t see around her and then shifts to the right when the play moves in the other direction. He whacks at her again and she grins. The more attention he pays to her, the less he pays to what’s happening around him.
When McClure skates out to challenge Merlin for the puck, Ducasse drops down to take his defensive coverage. He knocks into Sophie, but she holds her position against him too. He loads up for his next shot, shoving her with both hands on his stick. She shoves him back.
“Yeah?” he demands. He glances at her gloves as if he’s willing to drop his if she’ll drop hers.
The unspoken rules are very clear about her gloves staying on so she shoves him again. He pushes his glove into her face, not a punch so much as a tap, but the officials swoop in, assigning them matching minors for roughing.
After their stint in the box, Ducasse seems as if he’s stuck to her. He checks her into the boards and slashes her ankles when she’s on the breakaway. At one point, after LaJoie’s covered the puck, Ducasse tips her helmet off her head.
It clatters harmlessly to the ice, and Sophie steps up, ready to cross-check him and take another penalty. Merlin’s there in a moment, and pulls Sophie back as Theo slots into her place.
“What?” Theo challenges as Ducasse backs down. “Too afraid to fight someone who’s allowed to fight back?”
“I could’ve taken him,” Sophie mutters.
“Uh huh.” Merlin ushers her back to the bench as Theo and Ducasse shout at each other until the officials grow bored and separate them.
“Are you saying I can’t?” Sophie twists back towards the argument. It isn’t too late to stand up for herself. She appreciates Theo’s willingness to step in and help her, but she can’t come across as timid or unable to defend herself or she’ll be run all game by every player on the other team.
“Calm yourself.” Merlin opens the bench door for her. “No one’s questioning your ability, but you’re not the guy, uh, teammate, we tap for a fight.”
“It wasn’t going to escalate to a fight. This isn’t my first hockey game.”
“Ugh. Cap, you talk some sense into her.”
“Talk some sense into me?” Sophie demands.
“Aw, fuck,” X says.
Sophie plants herself as far away from Matty as she can and bites down on her mouth guard.
She doesn’t drop her gloves, but she and Ducasse come together after every whistle to exchange hissed insults in French and unfriendly cross-checks. It isn’t Sophie’s preferred playing style, but being a woman doesn’t mean she shies away from the physical side of the game.
Apparently, it’s something she has to prove to her team and all the others.
They win 4-3, and Sophie meets her family in the guest room after her media responsibilities are done. Teddy and Colby are talking about goaltending which makes it easy for Sophie to sneak up on her brother. She wraps her arms around him from behind and lifts him off the ground in a hug.
“Why are you like this?” he asks, but as soon she puts him down, he turns to give her a proper hug.
As a goalie, he was never bulky, but he’s even smaller now, because he doesn’t play competitively anymore. His hair is still stupid, too much gel and not enough styling. She runs her hand through it to mess it up and wipes her palm on Colby’s pants.
“Thanks,” he says.
“You played well, sweetie.” Sophie’s mom kisses her cheek, and Teddy slips away to give her some time alone with her family.
They head out too, Sophie leading them down the hallway to the parking lot. “Are you staying at my place tonight? We’re going out, but I’ll be quiet when I come home, and I can make you breakfast before you hit the road again.”
She isn’t about to tell her parents her apartment is lonely with only her in it. It will only lead to her mom worrying and her dad giving her more lectures on how she can’t rely on anyone but herself.
“We have a hotel,” her dad says.
Of course. Her mom must pick up on some of Sophie’s disappointment, because she asks, with forced cheerfulness, “Pierre, didn’t your mother call?”
“Your mémé asks you not to provoke Ducasse into a fight, because he’s her favorite player. You’re family so she’ll take your side, but she’d rather not have to.”
If Sophie didn’t know how Montreal lives and dies by their team, she’d be hurt. As it is, she wouldn’t expect her mémé to say anything different. “I wasn’t going to fight Ducasse. We had a few disagreements but it was hockey.”
“Anything I should know about?”
“For Heaven’s sake, Ellen, she’s a hockey player not a kid anymore.”
Sophie’s glad the parking lot is empty so there isn’t anyone to hear her dad’s outburst. Of course, her mom hears it, and she wraps an arm around Sophie’s shoulders as if to say Sophie will always be her kid, no matter how old she is or how many hockey games she’s played.
It’s a familiar argument, and as much as she wants to linger in her mom’s hug, she forces herself to step away. “Which hotel are you staying at? We can still meet up for breakfast in the morning. You can see my apartment.”
Her apartment seems especially empty when she gets home from the game. She flips on all the lights and pulls up some song Zinger was trying to make her listen to the other day. The music fills the room as she heads down the hall to change out of her suit and pick what she’s wearing to the bar.
She hangs her suit up and pulls on her comfy jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Her hair is still damp from her shower so she braids it. All it takes is ten minutes and she’s ready to go.
The team is already there when she shows up. The table has eight bowls of popcorn, which seems like a lot until she looks around and sees all the empty tables near them. Apparently, her team is full of popcorn thieves. She’ll make sure they leave a big tip.
“Sofe!” Merlin raises his beer in greeting and almost spills it on Zinger.
The rest of the guys turn to wave or shout hellos of their own.
“I see you dressed up for us,” Merlin says.
“Only the best for you.”
Theo pushes Spitz and Clifford out of the booth so Sophie can slide in. Deep in the booth, with teammates on either side of her, there’s no pressure for her to dance. She slides Teddy’s bowl of popcorn closer to her and takes a handful. “There’s a sad girl somewhere in Concord tonight, because I didn’t score a goal.”
Teddy rolls his eyes. “You’re not a sad girl, because we won tonight.” He pulls the bowl closer to him, as stingy with popcorn as he is with bread rolls.
“She’s not a girl, she’s a woman,” Merlin says. He looks to Sophie as if he wants her to tell him she’s proud of him.
She offers him a smile and Teddy’s popcorn.
She’s glad they won tonight, but she can’t help but wish her parents were staying at the apartment. Or her parents could stay at the hotel and Colby could crash with her. She spent the summer making a big deal about being independent and having an apartment, but she never intended to be alone.
She leans into Theo, who’s big and solid and lifts his arm so he can tuck her more comfortably against his side. He offers her a shot and when she shakes her head, he hands it to Spitz instead.
“You good?” he asks, quiet, so no one else overhears.
“Yeah. Thanks for stepping in with Ducasse.”
“I didn’t do it because I thought you couldn’t handle things yourself. I know you can. But as long as I’m on
the ice, you don’t need to.”
“Thanks,” Sophie says again and the word seems insufficient for everything she wants to say.
Then Kevlar comes over with two pitchers of beer, and the table erupts into cheers. He also has a bottle of water, and he passes it down to her. The cap is screwed on tight, the seal unbroken, and tears sting the corners of her eyes. She raises the bottle in thanks, because she doesn’t trust her voice.
This is a good team, she thinks as she opens her water.
They fly to Toronto and record their first loss against the Griffons. Toronto was in the Maple Cup Finals last year, and most of their players returned, making them one of the favorites to win it all, but it doesn’t make Sophie feel better about losing.
She feels even worse when she checks her phone on the plane and sees Gothenburg won their home opener with a hat trick for Elsa. She watches the highlights before opening her chat with Elsa. She considers a few responses: We could’ve used those goals tonight and I wish you were on my wing before she goes with You could’ve had four if Thaulow was a better center.
It’s petty but Sophie feels better after sending it. Well, she feels better until guilt hits her, sharp and twisting. It makes her add more. The three you did have were pretty. Then, Well, the first two. The third was a garbage goal, but it gave you a hat trick so it wasn’t all bad. She winces at the last message and adds, I didn’t mean garbage. Inelegant. The other two were breathtaking.
Sophie groans as she scrolls through her last few responses. She locks her phone and hands it to Teddy. “Don’t let me have this back until we land.”
He raises his eyebrows but when she doesn’t elaborate, he takes her phone and tucks it into his bag. Then he points to his headphone splitter. “I’m watching Hocus Pocus.”
“It’s way too early for Halloween movies,” she says. She still digs her headphones out of her bag. Her fingers brush her iPad, and she takes it out too. Coach Vorgen has already sent her her shifts from the game. This the perfect time to review where she fell short and how to be better for their next game.
