Bring it on

Chapter 13

The rink is alive with energy: the sound of skates cutting into the ice, the roar of the crowd, and the thump of the puck hitting sticks. It's a rhythm I've known for as long as I can remember-the heartbeat of the game, the familiar chaos that makes everything else fall away. Except today, different.

I glance over into the stands, and there she is. Natalie. My heart does this weird flip in my chest when it sees her, and it's getting more and more difficult to look away. She's not just watching the game; she's watching me. I can feel it on me, even as I line up with the rest of the team for the faceoff.

It's a home game-the energy in this arena is high-but my mind isn't letting me be completely focused because of her. Not since that day in the rink. The day it finally came from her lips. That quiet, unpredicted admission: she wanted to be with me too. And though the kiss was brief, it felt like everything in my world had shifted. Suddenly, it wasn't just about the game anymore; it was about us.

My gaze drifts back to her, and I catch her cheering, clapping her hands-her ponytail bouncing as she stands with the rest of the fans. She's wearing my team's colors in black and blue. And when she smiles at me, a torrent of warmth rushes through me. She's out there, rooting for me, even when she's in a completely different world than mine. A figure skater. Graceful. Controlled. And yet here I am, battling for every inch of the ice in an ugly, brutal sport.

But it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter she's from a different world, because when I look at her face, I know I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

The puck drops, and I snap back into focus immediately, hurtling myself into the action. The game is going fast-faster than it has ever gone before-and I'm determined to make every second count. I chase down the puck, using my body to block out the opposing player as I scan the surrounding area for a teammate. But then I hear it.

"Go, Ethan!" Her voice cuts through the noise of the crowd, and it's like a bolt of energy surges through me. It's her. It's Natalie. Her cheer is loud, distinct, and it gives me a burst of confidence I didn't know I needed.

I throw a pass across the ice to Matt on the wing, and in an instant, he's charging the net. I'm not too far behind, joining the crash of the crease. Matt takes the shot-a quick flick of the wrist-but the puck hits the back of the net.

Goal.

The crowd goes wild, but again, I am thinking about Natalie. I catch her eyes once more up in the stands. She's on her feet, clapping, this bright, genuine smile lighting up her face. I can feel her excitement, her pride, and it's like a silent tether between us. At that moment, I'm not just playing to win-I'm playing for her. I want to give her something to be proud of, something that makes her smile like that.

The rest of the game flies by in a haze. I'm moving quicker than I have ever moved, every hit, every pass, every shot feeling sharper. The crowd is behind us, chanting our team name, but even amid the noise, her presence is like a soft hum, an anchor to ground me. I play harder, faster, knowing she's out there somewhere, watching me. Cheering for me.

Now it's the third period, and we're up by one. I can feel it heating up pretty fast. The other team is going hard, trying to get that one last goal to force overtime, but we don't back down.

I skate with purpose now, scanning the ice, watching for any opening, when the puck comes to me in the neutral zone. I know I can take it, charge forward, and make something happen, but all I can think about is that moment when I'll look up and see her again. The way she cheered for me. The way she believes in me.

I fake a shot, then pass it to Matt again. He shoots a wide shot that gets blocked by the goalie, but the rebound finds its way back to me. Still on instinct, I flick the puck toward the net. It's not pretty-just a quick, dirty shot-but it's enough.

The puck sneaks past the goalie.

Goal.

I don't even wait for the crowd to erupt before I'm glancing toward the stands. And there she is. Natalie, jumping up and down, her hands covering her face, her eyes wide with excitement. Her joy is my victory.

I skate to the bench, high-fiving my teammates, but my eyes never leave her. Finally off the ice and stripping out of my gear, I can't wipe the smile off my face. I have to find her. I have to talk to her, to share this moment with her.

I walk through the tunnel and out into the stands, weaving my way through the crowd. And there she is, standing near the rail, looking down at me with that smile-like she's proud of me. Proud of us.

I reach her, my breathing heavy from the game, and my heart still racing, in the most positive way. She reaches for me before I could say a word and pulls me into a hug that's simple and natural, yet somehow feels like something I have always been waiting for.

"That was amazing," she says, her voice low but bursting with energy-that energy have taken care of me all night.

I lean back far enough to look at her. "Not as amazing as you are," I reply, smiling.

Her cheeks flush crimson, but her eyes aren't leaving mine. "You're pretty amazing yourself, Ethan."

I lean in, not caring about the crowd, not caring about anything but her, and kiss her again. This time it's longer, deeper-less tentative. Because this is it. We've crossed that line. There's no more fear, no more hesitation. We're doing this.

Maybe we're from different worlds, but here-together-on this ice, we're exactly where we're supposed to be.