Page 20 of Offensive Edge
“I don’t know,” he said.
“You’d know if you were sad,” Rowan said, looking out the windshield. Having a civil conversation with Rowan was a novelty, and the more it happened, the more Theo realized it wasn’t as unwelcome as he thought it would be in October.
“You’re probably right,” Theo said. He had no doubt he was sad when he and Rowan ended. He re-read Laurel’s messages. Obsessing over Rowan? He wasn’t, was he? He had a whole life outside of Rowan. But it wasn’t his fault Rowan was on his hockey team, and still living in his house.
Vic’s house. But whatever. It was Theo’s home.
* * *
He went through the motions as he got ready for the game. His warmups, playing two-touch with the boys, listening to Coach Peters’ speech and the starting lineup. By the time he made it out onto the ice for warmups, any thoughts he’d had of Laurel had disappeared. Instead, he had the cool rush of refrigerated arena air on his face, the familiar and satisfying cut of his skates into the ice. It was good to remember how lucky he was to get to play on the best ice, with the best equipment.
Rowan skated by, the strap to his helmet unbuckled, and gave him a soft smile as he shoved him into the boards. “You’re going to be okay to play, yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m okay,” Theo said. Rowan could have been checking in on him because he cared about the game. But Theo had known Rowan Foley since before he was Rowan Foley, and it felt genuine.
They were on the ice, though. Neutral territory.
The puck dropped at the beginning of the first, and from the second it hit the ice, Theo felt like he was flying. Usually, this feeling was fleeting, and only came a handful of times throughout the season, but this year, he almost expected it. Especially on home ice. Especially next to Rowan. Hockey was 90% work and 10% fun most of the time, but this season already had a certain special air to it. Like it sparkled at the edges.
Theo knew Rowan’s shot was good as soon as it left his stick, and they were up 1–0 five minutes into the game. St. Louis was looking like an AHL team out there.
Rowan’s second goal came with ten seconds left in the first. Sammy could have left the ice and no one would have noticed with how much time the Serpents were spending in the attack zone.
“Boys are on fire tonight,” Aaron crowed in the locker room after the first.
“Keep yourself in check,” Vic said. “We don’t want to get cocky.”
Theo knew the wisdom of that. Feeling like there’s no way you can lose is a direct path to losing.
San Jose didn’t pull sold-out crowds often, but they had been on fire all season, and the fans were energetic as they came back out onto the ice for the second. Aaron got called for hooking right at the start of the period, and the Fangs capitalized on their man advantage. They were 2–1.
“We still got this, boys, no worrying,” Rowan hollered down the bench, and helmeted heads nodded agreement. They had this.
They kept St Louis from scoring again, but they weren’t able to put one in net that period. They still were up by one going into the third.
Rowan was on hatty watch, but no one was dumb enough to say that out loud.
St. Louis was getting tired. Theo could tell. He knew what heavy legs looked and felt like. Theo didn’t feel fresh as a daisy exactly, but he had as much energy as he was ever going to have in the third period of an NHL game. He could tell Rowan felt the same. Nikita, the right winger on their top line, also had some pep in his step. Nikita wasn’t as mind-melded as Theo and Rowan were, but he was worthy of the top line. Their passes were connecting, their dangles sick, their plays precise.
Theo was going to do whatever he could to get Rowan his third goal. Not because he had any particular feelings about Rowan, but because that’s what you do for your teammate who was one goal away from a hat trick.
They got deep in the O-zone, and Theo had a good shooting lane, but he chose to pass it to Rowan. Rowan took his shot, and it bounced off the goalie’s blocker, and straight back to Theo’s stick. In times like these, you’d be an idiot not to bat the puck into the open net.
“You had a clear shot before you passed it,” Rowan shouted at him during their celly, while the goal horn filled every crevice of the building, and their teammates crushed around them.
“It went in eventually.”
“Don’t pass it to me if you have a good opportunity to score. I know what you’re trying to do. I’d rather win.” Rather win than get the hat trick. They still weren’t saying it out loud. It made Theo want to double down on his efforts. Of course, Rowan didn’t care about the hat trick. He already had plenty of them during his career.
It annoyed Theo.
With ten minutes left in the game, Aaron checked a St. Louis Fang awkwardly into the boards. It was a legal hit, but borderline, and the refs didn’t call it, so Aaron’s mark took it into his own hands, grabbing the collar of Aaron’s jersey. It only took a moment before fists were swinging.
There wasn’t always a clear winner in hockey fights, but that fight left no doubts. Aaron skated off to the box triumphantly, regardless of the blood that was dripping from his nose.
The Fangs got a bit of energy from that fight, and suddenly it felt like the Serpents were playing against a real team.
The challenge set Theo and Rowan into high gear. With two minutes left in the third, the Fangs pulled their goalie, and though Theo had an open shot on a breakaway toward the open net, he chose to pass to Rowan, anyway. This time, Rowan’s shot went right in. The Fang chasing them down broke his stick on the crossbar, and the goal horn went off again as hats rained down from the stands.
