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"Winning isn't everything, but wanting to win is."
— Vince Lombardi

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MILO

It was six forty five. I stood outside the locker room praying she would show up. There was something about her, being around her grounded me. I was anxious about messing up the game, but I had been keeping tabs on my levels all day. Balancing my carbs and insulin, I just had to focus.

There she was. My eyes caught hers, a smile broke out on her face the apples of her cheeks rose as she smiled at me.

"Look! We match!" She exclaimed, my jersey was very oversized on her. I didn't think a person could be jealous of an inanimate object, but I was very jealous of her leggings. They hugged her thighs in a way I had only dreamed of. "We do," I smiled back at her. "I'm glad you made it, did you find good seats?" I asked her, "Yeah I did! Is the team you're up against good?" She asked tilting her head.

"Yeah, we lost to them two years ago..." I explained. "I'm sure you'll win! Are you nervous?" She asked fidgeting with the hem of the jersey like she had done last night. "A little, especially after last time." I admitted, "Do have snacks for intermission? To keep your levels steady." Her voice echoed with concern, "Yeah, I've got everything under control." I smiled, "Just some pre-game nerves." I continued.

"Here, give me your hand." She said her hand reaching out for mine, I obviously complied. She pulled a green hair tie off her wrist, and slid it on to mine. "Now we really match." She smiled as she moved some of her hair that was up in a messy bun to reveal a sliver of a green hair tie, and yes it matched the one on my wrist.

She looked at her watch, "I guess I should go—" I grabbed her wrist, "Not so fast. What about a good luck kiss?" I asked not being able to restrain myself. "Hmm... I only kiss winners." She teased, "So if I win then you'll kiss me?" I taunted. "Precisely." She said smirking. "Go back to your seat, I have a game to win pretty girl." It was now my turn to smirk as her cheeks became rosy. I watched her walk away before going back into the locker room with the rest of the team preparing to make our big entrance.

My entire life I had been convinced there was no better feeling than an arena full of people cheering in the stands for you and your team. I was wrong. Turns out it's  seeing a pretty girl wearing your last name across her back, and watching you as you play a sport that had changed your life in the best way possible.

The first period had flown by as I deflected every shot taken at the goal. We were only ahead by one point. Their team was good too, we still had two more periods though. It was currently intermission and I drank a Gatorade and upped my insulin intake. Physical activity made my blood sugar rise, but I have a handle on it just like any other game.

"Good?" Kade asked, "yep." I said nodding. "I saw Alvara is your jersey..." he said with a knowing smirk, "Her and Ki got snacks, they brought some friends so they're all hanging out." He said and it was comforting oddly enough. The fifteen minutes were up and we had a game to win.

Coach made me swap with fucking Charlie. I sat on the bench glaring at him as he had practically let them make the goal. Coach then quickly put me back in, not a surprise. Although I did feel slightly bad, Charlie looked like he was going to cry. The coach was yelling at him so loudly it could probably be heard from the penalty bench.

We were now tied one to one. It stayed that way through the rest of the second period. Our coach gave us a pep talk during the second intermission. And before we knew it we were half way through the third and finial period.

I almost thought we might go into overtime, I was wrong.

The arena was buzzing with tension as the puck glided across the ice, flashing between skates and sticks. The opposing team's forward charges down the rink, weaving through our defenders. I sharpen my stance, crouching low, every muscle coiled and ready. I'd been blocking shots all night, but this was different. The forward feints left, and the arena filled with gasps as he swings his stick back to launch the puck high toward the corner of the net, nearly out of reach.

I felt time slow. My reflexes kicked in, instinct trumping logic. I sprung sideways, nearly parallel to the ice. With an outstretched glove, I track the puck's path with precision. Just as it whizzes toward the top corner, My glove snatches it from mid-air, barely brushing the goalpost. I regain my footing. The crowd freezes, even the announcer was confused. I then reveal the puck in my glove. The silence erupts into cheers, the sound of my teammates pounding the boards filled my ears. For a moment, I stood there, heart pounding, and grin hidden behind my mask.

There were five minutes left, I'd done my job it was Kade's turn now. Their goalie was still confused by the anomaly, Kade made a risky shot and the son of a bitch made it. The sound of the buzzer signifying the end of the game barely audible over the cheers. We won, I won my kiss.

Goals & Glucose |18+|Where stories live. Discover now