Darkroom: A Moo U Hockey Romance by Kate Willoughby (reading a book .txt) 📕

puck which was wedged against the boards with someone’s skate. I couldn’t tell much from the angle but—

“Forts!” AJ batted me on the arm. “I was talking to you.”

Shaken from my reverie, I looked at him. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

“I said, we look like dicks out there. You especially.”

I was definitely off my game. The C on my jersey felt like a big fat lie. Captains didn’t play like this. Certainly, draft picks didn’t play like this.

“No kidding.”

“Number forty-five is beating you on the boards every single time,” AJ said.

“Fuck. I know. I’ll fix it.”

Out on the ice, the whistle blew. Kurlander had drawn a penalty so for the next two minutes, we would have one more player on the ice than the opposing team. As a member of the power play offensive unit, I hopped the boards and headed out to take the faceoff dot.

As Kurlander passed by me, he said, “There you go, Forts. Time to shine.”

Gritting my teeth, I kept my eyes on the ice and the players, resolutely refusing to look up in the stands.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

As I skated to my spot, my opponent sneered at me. “So you’re the famous Forte, huh?”

I said nothing. I just met his stare.

“Let’s see what you’ve got then,” he said.

I hunkered down to lower my center of gravity and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. A lot of people think winning a faceoff is a simple matter of being faster than your opponent, but in reality, there are some pretty sweet moves you can pull, moves my Uncle Matt taught me. Because this guy gave me some attitude, when the linesman dropped the puck, I blocked his stick, pivoted and shouldered him away while I kicked the puck aside with my foot.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it, asshole.

AJ picked it up and we formed up in their zone, looking for an opening. The pressure was on because we were two goals down. We moved the puck back and forth across the ice, circling, crossing, searching for a chance to score. They cleared a couple of times but in the last few seconds of the power play, AJ deked and sent me the puck.

I had a wide open net.

Come on, baby.

With a quick wrist shot, I fired the puck toward the net…and hit the pipe.

FUCK.

Time ran out on the power play, their fifth man came back out on the ice and the moment was gone.

I continued to play like shit and as the minutes ticked past, I felt more and more guilty. We were able to tie the score at the end of the third period, and just when we all thought we were going into overtime, Kurly, of all people, scored a game-winning buzzer beater. Those of us on the bench leapt up and over the boards to congratulate him. Even though he was often a dick, he deserved some accolades.

In the locker room, I presented Kurlander with the Burlington U game MVP poncho, a busy pattern of crazy yellow, orange, tan and brown crocheted zigzags. No one really knew who made it, maybe some long ago coach’s great-grandmother. Kurlander stuck his head through the hole and as it settled it over his shoulders, he flapped his arms to make the fringe move, as tradition demanded.

The mood was jubilant and I plastered a smile on my face for the sake of the team. We’d won our first home game of the season. But inside, I was angry and frustrated with myself for my overall craptastic performance, especially that missed shot on the power play. I mean, the net was wide fucking open.

Maybe I needed an eye exam.

After showering and changing back into my suit, I grabbed AJ and we headed out to meet Indi and Ruby.

“Congratulations! Great game!” Indi gushed. She had a huge smile on her face and just the sight of her lightened my mood considerably.

“Did you see my assist?” AJ asked.

When the girls looked at each other, AJ laughed. “You’re not hockey fans, are you?”

“No,” they admitted.

“Did you even understand what was going on?” I asked. Nothing like three hours of watching something that didn’t make a lick of sense to you.

“I think so,” Indi said. “The puck is supposed to go in the net, right?”

I almost fell for that, but I saw the twinkle in her eye.

“Very funny,” AJ said. “Yeah, the puck’s supposed to go in the net.”

Elbowing each other gleefully, the girls laughed. I didn’t join in.

“So the team goes to the Biscuit in the Basket after the games,” AJ said to the women. “We have a reserved table there on game nights. How does that sound?

“Sounds fun,” Ruby said. “Indi?”

Indi nodded her agreement. “Sure. Why not?”

A blast of raucous cheers greeted us when we got there. A win really pumped everyone up and the place was crowded. When Briggs, our new goalie, spotted us, he yelled our names and waved us over. We threaded our way through the people and obtained stools for the ladies. Our usual table, table seventeen, had plenty of seats left but it would be full before long.

AJ made introductions while I flagged down a server and ordered us a big basket of assorted wings, fries and a pitcher of beer. The girls asked us questions about the game and AJ and I did our best to answer without mansplaining.

After about fifteen minutes, Indi said, “Well, I still don’t really understand icing, but I think I have the gist of the game.”

“You were really impressive out there,” Ruby said to AJ. “I want you to score a goal for me tomorrow.”

Someone said something at the other end of the table I couldn’t quite make out, but it must have been amusing because there was some chuckling. AJ didn’t seem to hear it either. He just gazed at Ruby and said, “As you wish.”

“I’m going to the restroom,” Indi said. “Ruby?”

“Sure. I’ll go with you,” Ruby replied.

When they were out of hearing distance, Kurlander