Pond Hockey • Artemi Panarin

1

Today was like any other Saturday morning. I woke up, went on a run, ate breakfast, and suited up to go play some pond hockey.

"Anya?" I yelled up the staircase.

"What?" She snapped.

"Tell mom I'm going to the pond!" I called.

No response.

After a few seconds, I rolled my eyes before calling her again. "Anya?"

"Yeah okay whatever-bye." Her nasty tone shot back.

I shrugged, grabbing my skates from the doorstep, and opening the large oak door. A gust of the brisk Canadian Air hit my face, causing me to shudder. Being raised in Quebec sure had its perks, but as my sister would say, the year round winter isn't one of them.

She tells me I'm crazy when I say I love the weather. Any normal hockey player would say that cold weather is the best. The longer the cold, the longer the outdoor hockey playing. If she played she would understand.

I stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind me. My legs trudged down the steps and across the snow covered yard, walking into the small thicket of trees behind our house. After a few minutes of walking, I reached the pond, and sat down on a boulder.

After lacing up my skates, I put on my helmet and grabbed my puck bag. Opening the netted bag, I dumped out the dozens of pucks onto the ice.

My body went into autopilot as I stepped out onto the pond. I gathered the pucks at center ice with my stick, and began to do some shooting. When I was a freshman, back when the entire neighborhood used to play pond hockey, we set up a net on either side of the rink. Which is currently what I'm shooting at right now.

I stick handled, and scooped up the puck, bouncing it on my stick. As I skated towards the net, I did a spin-o-Rama and knocked a backhander into the net, hitting the goal post.

From a few feet away, I heard a snicker, followed by a series of claps. My head snapped around, coming face to face with a boy. He seemed around my age, maybe a little bit older. His light brown curls stuck out of his helmet-the ultimate hockey hair.

"Why are you here?" I asked, my nosiness getting the better of me.

"I could ask you the same thing." The boy retorted.

"I come here everyday."

"So do I." A smirk arose on his face, causing me to roll my eyes and scoff.

"So you mean to tell me we both come her everyday, but somehow, we have managed to never once run into each other? Your lying." I folded my arms across my chest, a glare on my face.

"I can prove it." He said back, the same smirk on his lips from before. "When do you have practice?"

"Why should I tell you? For all I know you could be some creepy stalker."

"Just answer the question." He said, rolling his eyes at my childishness.

"On weekdays, 5-9. On weekends 4-7." I huffed.

"I have it 2-5 on weekdays, and on weekends 9-2. That's probably why we have never seen each other before."

"Well I prefer to keep it that way. So leave." I snapped. I skated around and proceeded to shoot pucks, assuming the boy would leave.

"What makes you think I'm just gonna walk away cause you told me to?" I heard his skates hit the ice behind me. I slightly turned my head, shocked to see the boy standing right behind me.

"I want the pond to myself-as simple as that. So go."

The boy towered over me, a smile creeping up on his lips as it looked like he pondered something.

"I have an idea." He skated backward, grabbing his stick from the ground.

"You have decided to finally leave me alone?" I pleaded. The boy chuckled.

"No-even better. You don't want me here-"

"Well duh." I interjected.

He shot me a glare before continuing. "And you really seem to hate me-"

"It's true."

"As I was saying, I have an idea." He said, clearly annoyed I had interrupted him again.

"Get on with it." I rolled my eyes, leaning on my stick.

"Let's make a deal. If you can beat me in a game of pond hockey, the rink is yours."

"What do you get if you win?" I asked.

"Well besides the rink privileges..."

I waited for the catch.

"A kiss."