ᴍᴀᴇᴠᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ
𝐈 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐀 bottle of painkillers into my hockey bag because I knew I'd need them, badly. I poured three into my mouth as a pregame.
"I guess it's never too early in the day for that in California," Jesse jokes from beside me.
I scrunch my nose and smile. "I was just thinking that if I take them now, they'll kick in by the time I get beat by the Icelanders during the game."
"Some clever thinking you've got there, Maeve," he says while tying the laces to his skates up. "Where's Adam?"
"Probably coming soon" I answer. "He's still pretty bummed about not getting to play. Especially in this game."
It was like I summoned him because just a second later, Adam Banks practically flew through the locker room door with a grin that went from ear to ear.
"Woah," Jesse whispers as everyone's attention is turned to Bombay and Adam. "Can all best friends spawn each other like that, or just you guys?"
"Just us, we practice it a lot, though."
"Coach!" Adam beams, holding up his stick and rotating it flawlessly. "I woke up and the pain was gone."
I could barely stand still. We all waited with excitement as Bombay surveyed Adam's wrist for a moment. My smile faded when Bombay didn't hold the same expression as the team. "I'm sorry, Adam. But we've already got a full roster."
After all this--after this miracle that he's been cured for the most important game of his life--he's still not able to play? I was about to lose all hope when Charlie Conway (pretty much) confessed his undying love for Adam. "He can have my spot."
Adam turned a flaming scarlet. His eyes were wide and his lips parted in pure amazement. I watched as he scanned the brunette over twice. If it hadn't been a known fact for the team before, it was now. Charlie and Adam were still Charlie and Adam, but maybe now there was a different meaning behind it.
"Charlie, I need you on the bench," Bombay nodded. "Coaching right there with me."
The room erupted into cheers as Adam took his usual locker spot next to mine. I flung my arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. "You so have to tell me everything after," I muttered so only he could hear.
"Oh, believe me. I will."
☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆∵☆
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 the crowd. The smooth ice against my blades. The 14 dreams that had come true. None of it could be processed at such a surreal moment. I saw the posters. I heard the chants. I felt the support. I knew what this meant for not just me, but for them.
I don't think anyone else will ever be able to fully understand the incredibility of this experience. Only 13 other people know what it's like to be me right now--and I wouldn't want to share these memories with anyone else.
"Stand tall, Fly straight," Gordon Bombay encouraged. "USA all the way!"
As we huddled as a team for the last time, I couldn't help but feel the mark each of them would leave on me. I looked to Julie, who wasn't afraid to stand up for what she thinks is right. To Jesse, who is sarcasm and short-tempered. To Averman, who was the humor we all needed on dark days. To Kenny, who was living proof that you don't always have to be big to be mighty. I looked at Charlie, who was slowly beginning to find out who he was. Dwayne, whose smile never failed to light up a room. To Connie, the girl who one day I hope realizes that she does not need a boy in her life to be happy. To Goldberg, who always remained loyal to the Philadelphia Flyers even when others told him to stop. To Luis, who is still learning how to hit the breaks every once in a while. To Dean, who is the toughest person I know. To Fulton, who would do anything to protect the people he cares about. To Russ, who always speaks what's on his mind. To Adam, the boy who puts his entire existence into every single thing he does.
