The Exchange

Chapter 18

5. I like that you're incredibly superstitious. It's hilarious.

Viktor's pre-game ritual was pure, quality entertainment. Even though he had no effect on the result of the game, he believed with all his heart that the pants he wore and the way he walked down the stairs to the basement (he skipped one step, because he had long legs and had to establish dominance over the rest of us, of course) would be the difference between a Chicago win or loss.

It was ridiculous.

I made the cupcakes, decorating them in green, white, and just a little red. They would balance out Viktor's ridiculous tradition, leaving the fate of the game to the hockey gods. I hoped.

When the game was about to begin, Matt, Viktor, and I sat down in the basement, lucky pants and all.

I had never played a second of a hockey game in my entire life, but I spent way too much time studying. It was a Minnesota thing, but a kid's first NHL game was even bigger than losing their first tooth.

Or maybe that was just me.

Ten minutes after puck drop, I had eaten four cupcakes out of stress. The Wild played like they had never played before and gave the Blackhawks free shots at the net. Sure, it was the first game of the season, but I hated watching terrible defense.

"It'll crack eventually. Just gotta keep shooting," Viktor said, probably to Matt.

I didn't care. It wasn't that deep of analysis anyway. Anyone could have figured that out.

Matt ran his hands through his hair. "This defense is giving me anxiety."

"We suck this year. We should just tank for the first pick in the draft," I said.

Just a moment later, the Blackhawks scored. A quick breakout after an icing call led to a centering pass and a goal.

1-0 Chicago. Cue Chelsea Dagger.

I hated that dumbass goal song.

"Yes! I love Duncan Keith. His hockey IQ is just amazing," Viktor's cheering made me sick.

Or maybe it was the cupcakes.

Yeah, it was definitely the cupcakes.

A wave of heat came over me, so I slowed my breathing and shut my eyes. Four cupcakes couldn't be enough to bring me down. I refused to lose to my own creations.

"It's one goal, Amanda. Chill. There's still plenty of time to fix it," Matt said.

"Are you okay?" Viktor asked.

I nodded and kept my lips clamped shut. I knew this sickness would pass if I could keep my breathing calm.

I followed along with the game by listening to the announcers rather than watching. Normally their commentary was ignorant enough to make Matt put the TV on mute, but the play-by-play was proving useful for once.

I mentally apologized for all the rude remarks I had made to announcers over the years.

"And Dubnyk with the save, his fifteenth of the night already."

Matt let out a sigh. "Well, he wouldn't have to make so many saves if you guys would fucking play defense in front of him."

Viktor laughed. "Reminds me of that game against the Thunder back when we were on the same team."

"Ha. Their coach nearly lost his mind on those poor guys. You had, what, four goals that game? Damn, we were good."

"Five goals."