Page 25 of He Has Pluck

Vicky was right. That’s the thought I keep to myself as the guys crowd around me. I make my mark, hitting a one-timer into the upper left corner from the right wing, one of those impossible looking shots that makes the away crowd go silent. Makes me feel like the dark knight coming to steal their game and ruin their dreams.

“Glad you’re on our team.” Finn grins and shoves me at middle ice where we’re gathered for our mini-celebration. It’s late in the game, and we’re at one-nothing.

“You do your job and hold on,” I say. “Shutout or bust.”

He gives me a shove and a nod. Rafe circles around and settles us, herding us to the bench, except for Finn, and the next line comes out, taking our place, happy, and every one of them tapping my pads, gloved hands high-fiving, whistles and smiles like I’m the new hockey god. At least for the rest of this game, or until the other team scores.

They never do score, and neither do we. We win the game on my lone goal and Finn’s shutout.

In the locker room, I hand Finn a puck, bowing down. “Your highness, I present you the game puck, though I’m not sure you recognize it since you haven’t seen one in a while passing through your nets.”

He laughs and gives me the finger as he sits in the middle of the crowded room. It’s loud, but most of the guys hear me, and the whistles start up again.

I glance in Juliette’s direction, my face losing the smile until I remind myself not to give away anything. I can’t afford to have anyone notice my unease with her, the restlessness clawing at my insides, wanting her. The gnawing returned to me full force as soon as I stepped off the ice and her camera greeted me up close.

She rolls her hands to signal continuing action, and I hadn’t realized I stopped, frozen and staring. Shit. Rafe slaps me on the back. I’m still fully dressed except for my skates.

“We owe this one to the Rookie, the new guy in the room,” Rafe says. He smirks at Finn, “No offense, but we can only win a hockey game by scoring a goal, one way or another.”

Finn nods and raises his stick. He’s sitting on the bench near where I stand, trying to get his pads off.

“I’d bow to you, Jason, but I’m a goalie, and all I can do is split my legs and I’m done with that for the night.” I laugh along with the others, and he starts a chant. “Jay-son, Jay-son, Jay-son.” The team picks up on it, and I’m jostled and shoved until I end up sitting on the bench next to him.

The camera is on us. O’Rourke brings in a couple of bottles of champagne, and he and Rafe uncork them, showering me and Finn as we open our mouths.

“Don’t let this fucking shit go to waste.” I take the bottle, take a sip and hand it to Rafe. “You deserve a drink; we all do. This is the best fucking team I’ve ever been a part of.” I mean the words. Finn chortles.

“Of course, you asshole, because this is the only team you’ve ever been a part of.” The burst of laughter is loud, and the drinking commences as the equipment manager rolls in a giant cooler filled with iced beer, and by the time the coach shows up, our celebration is too far gone to be dampened.

“Great win, guys. Best way to end our season. Bus is leaving for the hotel in one hour then it’s lights out for an early flight back to Boston.” He takes some slaps on the back, shakes hands with Rafe and O’Rourke, the two captains, and then comes into the room to shake everyone’s hands.

“Tansem, great game. Sorry to interrupt your celebration, but the press is calling for you. So get out there and give them some happy talk.” He cracks a rare smile, and I grin back as I stand and make my way through the gauntlet of guys slapping me around in congratulations. I’m glad I still have my game jersey on and my pads.

When I get back to the locker room, Tony G is flirting with Juliette, trying to monopolize her attention. He’s eating pizza and trying to share it with her. I’m watching surreptitiously as I dress while everyone eats and drinks and replays the game action.

The minute he touches her arm, she pulls back and moves quickly away from him, keeping her camera in place on her shoulder. No one else notices, except me, because I’m making it my business to notice, and I come to her side, not that she needs me.

“You okay?”

“You know me. Cool as ice.”

I glare in Tony’s direction. Only the fact that the room is filled with our teammates prevents me from grabbing him by the jersey and shoving him out the door on his ass because, right now, the intensity of my dislike seethes up in the kind of rage I usually reserve for opponents and then only during a game.

“It was nothing, Jason,” she says in a low voice. “Don’t make a big deal.” She doesn’t humiliate Tony like she should, but he gets the message either way. My gaze locks with his, and a silent message passes. My message says, Keep your fucking hands off, and his says, I can’t stand your fucking over-rated guts. And mind your fucking business.

He has a point, but I realize two things tonight. First, I’m not rational when it comes to Juliette Sullivan because she’s somehow gotten under my skin like a deadly virus, and I don’t even care that she could kill me, euphemistically. She could definitely kill my NHL hockey dream. But somehow, I can’t find my normally indestructible sense of self-preservation.

Second thing is, I don’t like Tony G. He’s a fun and funny guy, but even aside from his like-minded attraction to Juliette making him a rival in the sick need for her attention, I don’t trust him. He invited me to be his roommate, and I’m glad I said no.

That room for cheap money in Chelsea just north of Boston is available tomorrow, and I plan to take it sight unseen. Other people may consider that a risk, but I’ve seen and even lived in shitholes before. For a short stint, I lived with my dad in high school, and that was no palace in the run-down unlivable part of Newburgh in upper state New York.

* * *

The bus delivers us to the hotel, and Coach heads for the elevator along with a number of guys on the team. I stand watching the equipment guys unloading when Rafe waves me and Finn over in the direction of the hotel bar entrance where he and O’Rourke are headed. Me, Finn, Tony and a few other guys follow him.

“It’s still early, and I don’t know about you, but I’m still too keyed up to sleep,” Rafe says. “Let’s have a celebratory nightcap. Just one drink,” he says.

O’Rourke says, “Two tops,” and we all laugh as we parade through and take over the back corner of the otherwise fairly quiet place. Juliette follows us. I’ve been aware of her constant presence as much as I’ve been keenly aware of her continuing avoidance of me, all but screaming her message that she wants nothing to do with me. Or maybe I’m just paranoid. Either way, I tell myself it’s for the best. Whatever voice that is, is lying its ass off.