The good thing about the fact that the biggest game of the season was today, was that it was a home game and the commute was very short.

The bad thing was... everything else.

The noise inside the locker room was intense, but it still couldn't damp the chaos outside in the arena. The game hadn't even started yet, but the spectators were already deep into their own drama. It was not helping any of us feel confident about what was coming.

The only one who appeared to be in his sane reason was Dean. He sat in the middle of the locker room, inspecting his skates. We'd all suspected that they'd been sabotaged the first time we played against the Eagles by one of them. Or a supporter. We didn't know how, because no one had seemed to lose sight of Dean's duffel bag for longer than it took to transport it between the bus and the locker of the Eagle arena. Now that we were facing the final game of the season against the Eagles it seemed more imperative than ever that Dean was okay.

Something was bothering me in the back of my mind. Many things. I'd had to endure more sessions of counseling with Gauthier after practice this week, leading up to today. They'd all been less, uh, bizarre than the first one, but I felt like the lost minutes of practice were going to count against me tonight.

And that was the core of the whole matter. I didn't have a good feeling about tonight.

As I paced up and down the locker, dodging others who were doing the same, jumping over the guy who thought there was no time like the present to start doing some pushups, and dodging the guy who continuously put his jersey on, only to pull it back off the next second, I tried to understand what was it exactly that had me on so much edge.

I heard a grunt just before someone yanked me by the arm. I startled as I ended up sitting on a bench, right next to Dean. He'd been the culprit.

"What the hell was that for?" I asked him.

"Your pacing and grumbling is making me nervous," he said.

I swiveled so that my entire body faced him. "Oh, it's me who is making you nervous? Not the fact that if we lose against the Eagles tonight the whole town is going to drive their forks through us?"

Ah. So that was it, the reason why my stomach was in knots and I was sweating profusely, even though I hadn't even started warming up yet. I was shitting my pants that I'd screw up tonight and the life dad and I had built for the past four months would come unravelled at the seams. What if I stumbled and my pants fell and everybody saw that I was wearing pink panties? Why was I even wearing those tonight, good Lord?

"Relax, that's not going to happen," Dean said. He finished lacing up his skates and sat back, slapping his thighs. "It's going to go more than fine. We're going to win and after that I'm going to grab you and kiss you so hard your pants will fall off-"

I gasped a lot louder than I probably should have, had I thought of not calling for attention. I also jumped at him and put both of my hands on his mouth. He laughed against them and his eyes twinkled like jewels under the light. I could have killed him right there and then. I looked all around and saw Hunter heading our way.

Before he reached us I grabbed Dean by the collar and growled. "Are you out of your mind?"

He pulled my hands off, grinning like he didn't have a care in the world. "I told you I am, for you."

"Stop!"

"Stop what?" Hunter said from behind Dean and I froze. He looked from Dean to me, noting how his hands were around my wrists. I struggled against Dean's hold until I freed myself. "Uh, yeah, Dean. Stop harassing our rookie just before the most important game of our entire season."

I sat back and folded my arms. "Thank you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not harassing him. I'm merely trying to distract him from the fact that he's freaking out for no reason at all."

I threw my hands up and put them on my head. "You're impossible."

He didn't get another word in as our two coaches walked in. Coach Martel blew his whistle until the strident noise forced us all to a halt. We all stood up, fully decked in our gear — including the guy who kept compulsively removing his jersey. We all wore our helmets and grabbed onto our sticks like they were the swords we needed to go to battle. We were warriors of ice and speed.

If only we felt more like that than scared little boys.

"Listen to me, gentlemen," Coach Martel started. He clasped his hands behind his back as he leveled a look at each and every one of us. "Today is the day of the big game. The one that we must win if we want to make it to the province finals. It also happens to be the last chance we have of defeating the Eagles.

"And by that I mean, the last you have, as a team," he said. We all looked at each other when we realized that, shit, yeah, this might be the last official game we ever played together. "I'm not gonna lie, it's a lot of pressure and I understand if that's getting to your heads. However," he made a dramatic pause there as he strolled forward to be in the middle of the locker room. Coach looked directly at Dean for a long moment, and then at a few of the others. "If you let that stop you, you have already failed even before the puck drops. Are you going to allow that to happen?"

"No!" we all roared.

"Who cares about old rivalries?" Coach Martel asked, his voice elevating just as everybody's pulse. "Who cares about the legacies? This night is about you, and not about who came before you or who is watching tonight. This night is about whether you're willing to put in the effort it takes to win. Are you willing?"

"Yes!" came the scream from everybody, including me.

"Are you willing to pound the ice so hard that your opponents tremble in fear?"

"Yeah!"

"Are you willing to fight for our cause?" I didn't imagine the pointed look he gave me and I threw my fist in the air with a yeah that left me hoarse. "Are you willing to put yourself out there for the victory of your team, this team?"

Somebody screamed a fuck yes with so much gut behind it that we all followed along.

"Then stop pissing about and go out there. Show yourselves just what you're made of."

Those were the last words we needed before we tumbled out of the locker room in a single mass of testosterone. Even mine had gone through the roof after that speech. We hit the ice to the standing ovation of all Silver Grove, gathered in the town's ice rink to see us fight it off against our rivals from East Pembroke High. As I skated around the ice doing my warm up drills I spotted a familiar face that made me do a double take.

I leaned my body so that I skated into a wider circle and braked before the area where I thought I saw him. My dad waved at me next to Margaret, Dean's mom.

My jaw dropped. "Dad?"

He gave me two solemn thumbs up. Like he was trying really hard to support me instead of berating me for doing something as wild as playing hockey among boys.

There was a flutter in my chest as I waved back at him.

I turned around so that nobody could see how affected I was. He'd never come to any of my boxing matches. This was a huge fucking deal and all the more reason for me not to screw up. But then again, in my dad's book the definition of me screwing up was getting in trouble for fighting, which was basically all I could do.

Either way, the night was going to end with a lecture at home. It was best if I asked for forgiveness from him for fighting, than from myself for not doing jack shit for the team.

Coach Martel instructed my line to be on the ice for the puck drop. I was right behind Dean as he stood in the middle of the ice for the face-off, ready to defend him with my entire line in case the Eagles came at us with their talons bared at our best player.

The puck dropped and the action begun.

We all moved as though propelled by strings under someone's control. I elbowed an Eagle out of the way as I followed closely behind Dean. He was too fast for me, for any of us, and the crowd stood up to attention as he broke away from the Eagles' defensemen. With a simple flick of his wrist, he sent the puck towards the goalie's five hole with such a speed that the poor turd didn't even see it. The puck hit the net so hard it jarred the goal posts off of one socket and the alarm blared all across the arena.

It was drowned as we all screamed and jumped over Dean.

"Holy shit, that was insane," one of the guys said, loud enough to drown the ruckus.

That was exactly what the rest of us were thinking. Including the Eagles.

After getting scored in the first five seconds of the game they renewed their attack, and they played just as dirty as the first time I encountered them. Two of their burliest formed a wall as they skated towards Dean, trying to barrel him through. They ended up looking like fools when he lowered himself and skated right through the gap in between them. My laughter was short-lived as I was slammed against the sideboards by an asshole. The smacking sound reverberated through me as much as it did through the entire arena. I took off after him, but Coach Martel's voice stopped me in my tracks.

He called my line back to the bench, and also Dean's. We did a quick switch and back on the bench I grabbed a Gatorade bottle and sprayed some in my mouth.

"Good job out there," I told Dean as he parked his ass next to me.

"You looking forward to your reward once we win?" he asked me with that little smirk that made me want to punch him exactly where his dimple was. Or lick it. I didn't know.

"Shut up, Dean."

Everybody stood to attention when suddenly a mosh pit seemed to form just in front of Pace. Our goalie stopped the puck that the Eagles had been trying to scramble in and the play stopped. That didn't mean the mosh pit stopped, though. The entire arena roared to life with a vengeance at the first fight of the game. I looked up at my coaches, silently asking if I could join.

Coach Martel pointed a finger at me. "You, stay put."

I deflated and the fight devolved into one of our guys in the penalty box. We all joined in the chorus of boos, and I figured the refs must not be from town, or otherwise tomorrow they would find their entire houses egged.

"Okay, now you go," Coach told me as the play was about to resume. "Bernal?"

I froze and looked back at him. "Yes, Coach?"

"We're on PK. This is when you have to shine the most."

I nodded and headed back out to the face-off circle. The puck hit the ice for long enough to be swept by an Eagle's stick. I threw myself onto the chase. It wasn't just Dean I was defending. It was the entire team. The entire town.

No pressure, eh?

I smacked an Eagle against the sideboard so hard that he fell on his face and slid clear across the ice. The audience came to life at that. I jumped over the guy's fallen stick and dashed all the way to Pace. I got in the way of the goal and an Eagle who was positioning himself for a fancy slapshot when Dean came out of nowhere from behind the guy. Without the Eagle ever been the wiser, Dean snuck his stick in between the guy's leg and slid the puck to the side. Hunter picked it up like this had been practiced and passed it swift across the ice to Shane, who passed it to me. In less than a fraction of second I had already seen that Brian was clear and passed it to him. He positioned himself right next to an Eagle D-man and it was not offside when he showed the Eagles how to do a slapshot.

The alarm went off in the arena for the second time and I kid you not. I cried a little. That was my first ever assist.

I ended up being in the middle of the tornado of hugs for as long as the celebration took.

We'd just scored an awesome goal off of the Eagles while on PK.

"Suck on that, bitches!" Hunter taunted them as he and I returned back to the bench. We high fived and I got some heavy slaps on my back from my other team mates.

We shouldn't have celebrated so quick, though. As soon as the play started the two burly Eagles forewent the puck and went directly at Dean. From behind.

It happened faster than we could react. Faster than even he could anticipate. One second I was standing up, screaming a warning, the next he was hit and falling. Falling so hard that he couldn't react to protect his head.

It took only that one second for the entire arena to fall into a deathly silence.

When Dean didn't immediately move from his prone position, I sprung into action.