w 1 t n e s s

twenty-seven

halle

I was outfitted in Tyler's jersey and a pair of ripped jeans, relaxing in the stands. I was situated between Tayler and Britt. Kris was in front of me, half turned to talk to us. As soon as the second period began, we would pay attention. For now, I could pass the time talking to the women I called my friends.

My legs were sore from skating earlier, but I didn't mention anything about it. Everyone here was more experienced with skating than I was. They'd been dating hockey players for years, and been skating for that whole time. I only had a few shaky sessions under my belt.

I pulled my legs up under myself for the time being. My eyes traveled down to the ice, where the usual intermission activities were taking place. At the moment, it was midget hockey playing a mini game. I watched the red jerseys flying around half of the rink. The other side was occupied by white jerseys to separate the team apart. As I observed, the first intermission came to a close. We were on top by two, so I wasn't particularly worried. But the physicality of the game made me nervous. Tyler had dealt an usually rough check to one of the Flames forwards. The hit resulted in some extreme targeting by the opposing team. Andrew Shaw had already gotten into a testy shoving match over it. I couldn't help but worry about Tyler.

As if my fears were coming to life, Tyler got checked hard into the boards after the second period started. He walked off from it easily, but the hit made my heart jump. A minute later, another player threw his hip into Tyler from behind. It wasn't a clean hit. Even I could see that. Tyler was angry. Tayler out a gasp next to me.

"Oh no. It was Gus." I couldn't ask who Gus was. Instead, I watched with horror as Tyler immediately shook his gloves off. His stick was thrown to the side. He glowered for a minute before something made him snap.

Tyler's bare hands grabbed onto the jersey of the player who'd checked him. Everything unfolded in slow motion. One fist came flying up, hitting Gus's jaw up. The opposing player retaliated by going after Tyler with vigor. He hit him at just the right point that the helmet went flying off. Tyler shook his head momentarily before throwing another hard and direct punch. And then another. And another. It was like the hit had pissed him off irreversibly. They traded punches for another few seconds, but it was obvious Tyler was dominating the fight. Eventually, Gus lost his footing and went down.

The refs pulled Tyler off quickly. On the Jumbotron, I could see the blood oozing from his lip and a place on his cheek. That wasn't the scary part. From under his sweat-soaked hair, his light eyes were wild with a fire I'd never seen before. He rarely showed that much emotion, especially on the ice.

Tyler scooped his helmet up before walking off the ice. He went right down the tunnel, as did the other player who had been involved. The shock on my face must've been evident. Kris let out a laugh.

"His first official NHL fight, wasn't it? Not too shabby. He held his own hella good. 'Specially against Gus. That one's been a long time coming."

"What do you mean?" I was confused.

"Connor said Gus never respected Ty last year. He didn't listen to him and didn't treat him like a teammate. I'd say Tyler's been waiting to sock Erik for months." She smiled wryly. I felt too sick to return the gesture. Tayler patted my shoulder.

"You'll get used to it girly. Once he throws himself in one, there's gonna be more. He's just gained a lot more respect all over the league, too. Man who scores that much and can fight is rare. You don't see it in many players."