Cheap Shots

00:20

UNEDITED

20.

            I couldn’t get her out of my head.  It was like she was permanently implanted there for my misfortune and wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. 

            “Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?”  Joshua asked me, slapping my helmet as he came around the bench to look at me.  “You’re so out of it, the game starts in a minute.  You’ve got to get focused, you don’t want to mess up on your first game back.”

            “Like coach is going to play me,” I scoffed, shrugging off his hand from my helmet as I walked passed him and to my water bottle.

            I heard his footsteps behind me, “And you keep checking the bleachers every five minutes.  Our fans aren’t going to leave, you know,” he joked.

            Like I give a crap about the amount of people in the stands.  “Forget it, man.”

            “There’s fifty seconds left, so you better figure out whatever shit you’ve got going on and get ready.”

            I rolled my eyes at his fatherly tone and shouldered past him.  It’s more complicated than that; I can’t just switch her out of my mind.

            It wasn’t until the third period with a minute left, when the team was up by two, that coach decided to play me for a little to see how my thumb was doing.  “Manno.  Get your ass in there and try not to hurt yourself.”

            “Yes, coach.” 

            I obviously couldn’t follow the rule very well.  I hadn’t done anything interesting up until ten seconds left, not bothering to try very hard on offense so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt my thumb.

            But I shouldn’t have been worried about my thumb.

            I heard the slap shot before I could comprehend what was happening, and it smacked me right in my mouth, in the place where my mouth guard should have been, but wasn’t because I was distracted before the game, for obvious reasons.

            I heard shattering and knew what occurred before I could skate over to the bench and be embarrassed about it. 

            “Beckett!”  Coach yelled, rushing over to me on the ice.  I guess I had somehow fallen down?  “What happened?  Where’s your mouth guard.”

            “Didn’t have it on, coach,” I told him plainly, not bothering to lie.

            “Shit.”

            “What?”

            “You’re missing half your two front teeth, Manno.

            “Shit.”  But all I could think was wait until Orion finds out.

           

            “A FEW TIMES I’VE BEEN AROUND THAT TRACK, SO IT’S NOT GONNA HAPPEN LIKE THAT, BECAUSE I AIN’T NO HOLLABACK GIRL, I AIN’T NO HOLLABACK GIRL!” The entire field hockey team screamed, our voices loud and pitchy as our coach covered her ears in an attempt to drown out our horrible singing.

            “I HEARD THAT YOU WERE TALKING SHIT, AND YOU DIDN’T THINK THAT I WOULD HEAR IT, PEOPLE HEAR YOU TALKING LIKE THAT, GETTING EVERYBODY FIRED UP,” we continued to sing, the anthem of our celebration.  We had beat the team one to nothing, bursting into a fit of cheers and whoops as we ran off the field, now on the bus celebrating our victory as we drove home.