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RYLEE HANSON (narrative)
The air inside the draft venue was heavy with anticipation, a symphony of whispers and flashing lights that seemed to amplify with each passing moment. I sat on the edge of my seat, my knee bouncing uncontrollably as I glanced toward the stage. My hand was clasped tightly in Nika's, her thumb stroking the back of my hand in soothing circles, though I could tell she was just as on edge as I was.
This wasn't just any draft. This was the moment I had dreamed of since I first laced up my skates as a kid. The 2024 National Women's Hockey League draft. The thought alone made my chest tighten with a mix of nerves and excitement.
"You're going first," Nika whispered, her voice steady and full of confidence.
I turned to look at her, catching the unwavering determination in her eyes. God, she always believed in me more than I believed in myself. "What if I don't?" I murmured, though my voice betrayed the hope buried beneath the doubt.
She leaned closer, her lips brushing against my ear. "You will, Rylee Hanson," she said firmly. "And when they call your name, you better not forget to breathe."
I chuckled softly, but before I could respond, the commissioner took the stage, and the room went silent. My heartbeat roared in my ears as she began her speech, her words a blur of formalities that I couldn't focus on.
"And with the first overall pick in the 2024 PWHL Draft," she finally announced, her voice slicing through the silence like a blade, "the Seattle Blaze select... Rylee Hanson!"
The world seemed to stop for a moment, the words sinking in like the slow, steady rise of the sun. My name. First overall. Seattle Blaze.
A sharp intake of breath escaped me, and I froze, my mind struggling to process the reality of what had just happened. Then, all at once, it hit me. My dreams weren't just dreams anymore—they were my life.
Beside me, Nika let out a whoop of joy, practically yanking me out of my seat as she threw her arms around me. "You did it!" she exclaimed, her voice cracking with emotion. "Rylee, you're the first pick!"
I held onto her tightly, burying my face in her shoulder as a laugh bubbled out of me, tinged with disbelief. "I'm the first pick," I repeated softly, as if saying it aloud would make it more real.
She pulled back just enough to cup my face in her hands, her eyes shining with pride and love. "You're incredible," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I've never been more proud of you."
I leaned into her touch, my heart swelling so much it felt like it might burst. Before I could stop myself, I kissed her. Right there, in the middle of the crowd, with cameras flashing and everyone watching.
Her lips were soft and familiar, grounding me in the chaos of the moment. When we pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, but her smile was radiant. "Go get your jersey, ljubav," she said, nudging me gently.
