“Okay, Vipers. Listen up,” Coach Hawthorne said.

He had us all gathered around in a circle during morning skate. We were sitting flat with our butts on top of the ice like third graders. It looked especially funny for our two goaltenders who had to keep their legs spread out wide in front of them in order to keep their pads from blocking people or breaching the integrity of the circle.

“You’ve all worked hard this year. I’m not going to lie. We’re in a pretty good spot. Even if we lose this one there will be another chance for us to make it into playoffs, but I don’t want you to think of it like that. I want you to think of tonight’s game as do or die. I want you to fight for it like your life depends on it, because once we do make playoffs, it’s only going to get harder from there. It doesn’t matter how good of a year we’ve had. Everyone still sees this team as the underdogs. They’re going to be watching you, ready to pick apart any mistake and use it to their advantage. Do not let them. That automatic bid is yours to lose.”

There was silence for a moment and then the team erupted into applause. It was the longest speech Hawthorne had given all year, and even though it wasn’t anything we didn’t already know, it still meant the world to us.

College hockey playoffs were slightly more complicated than the big leagues, but it was roughly the same idea. Sixteen teams compete in a tournament and each one of them has to win a best of seven games against their opponent in each round in order to move on to the next. There were a lot of factors that went into determining which teams got to compete, but the one thing that was certain was that each of the six divisions got one automatic bid to give to the team with the most points on the season. I mean, technically there was no rule saying that the selection committee had to pick the team with the most points, but they always did, and currently here in the west, that team was us. After this game tonight, there would be fewer games (and points up for grabs) than there were points between us and our closest competitor. Thus meaning, if we won today, there was literally no possibility of anyone in the western division catching up to us. The automatic bid would be ours.

“Let’s kick some ass!” Farmer yelled after Hawthorne’s words had finished sinking in. It did a pretty good job of cutting the tension.

After that, we went back to the changing room and went over some videos of the other team with McAvoy. The Langdon Tech Tigers were pretty good. Polished and completely passable as a collegiate team. Prior to my first game at Coronado, I would have said one hundred percent that they were better than us, but now I thought the exact opposite. They had good players, but they didn’t have the spark of spontaneity that we did. All of their plays were textbook with very little variety, whereas no two of the twenty-four games we’d won—and five that we’d lost—had looked the same. That, I thought, was going to be their downfall. The Tigers wouldn’t know what to expect from us. Sure, they’d know to look out for me and Sal and a couple of our other big goal scorers, but we already knew how to get around this. I’d been dropping hints to my teammates on how to outsmart their opponents all year.

After we finished watching and discussing the footage, McAvoy released us. There was a three-hour break before we had to be back here for warm ups. Most of the guys liked to use this opportunity to get in a nice pre-game nap, and I might have liked to do the same, but alas, when I got back to my room Steve was blasting music and noisily talking on the phone. I hoped the person on the other end of the line liked heavy metal because that was all they were likely to hear.

I took out my own phone and started texting Mark. I knew he was supposed to be getting out of work any minute.

Steve’s being obnoxious. Can I get a rescue?

I didn’t get a response to my text, but fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door. I smiled to myself and slipped out without Steve even noticing.

Mark was dressed in his work uniform, a green polo shirt and khakis. He still had his nametag on and everything. He looked handsome in a business casual sort of way, but he also sort of looked like a kid playing dress up, especially compared to his usual style. I did a scan of the hallway to make sure we were alone before leaning down and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you,” I said. “My ears felt like they were going to start bleeding.”

“No problem, love. Did you wanna go into town or something? We could go see a movie.”

I shook my head. “Nah, I’ve gotta be back here before three.”

Mark nodded. “Okay. My place it is.”

Mark’s roommates were also home and also making a bit of a ruckus, but they were nowhere near as obnoxious as Steve and didn’t even try and make meaningless small talk with me as I stood in their kitchen watching Mark make grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup out of a can. When he was done, we took the food upstairs to Mark’s room and sat down on the rug to eat it. It was delicious, a bit heavy for a pre-game meal, but I figured I would work it all off shortly.

“How was work?” I asked between bites.

“Same old, same old. What have you been up to today?”

“Nothing much,” I lied. “Just homework and gym.”

“Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

I chewed my lip, considering. The game was at four and depending on the amount of penalties and whistles, it could last anywhere from two to three hours, plus even more if we took it to overtime. Not to mention that if we won, the boys were most definitely gonna want to celebrate.

“I don’t know,” I said. “My study group might run late and I’ve already flaked out on them once before…”

Mark frowned.

“Do you want to reschedule?”

His eyes were so open and understanding that it made my heart physically ache.

“No. I’ll do my best to get out of there as soon as I can, just don’t wait up on me if it gets too late.”

“All right,” Mark said. Then he leaned in for a kiss.

We kept things pretty PG since Mark’s roommates were home, but by the time 2:45 rolled around I was still doped up and happy and debating how late I could feasibly leave and still make it to warm ups on time.

“I don’t wanna go,” I whined, head resting on Mark’s lap.

Mark patted my head consolingly and then gently pushed me up into a seated position. Once we were both standing, he gave me one last kiss and a squeeze around the waist.

“Have fun at your study group,” he said.

“I won’t.”

“Text me when you get out.”

I nodded and then left. I took the stairs two at a time and hurried out of the apartment and across the street.

Back on campus, I ran to my room to grab my stuff and texted Sal asking for a ride to the stadium since I’d stayed with Mark way too long to catch the bus. When we arrived at the stadium, there were already a few students munching on hotdogs up in the stands, watching the Tigers finish their warm ups. Sal and I kept our heads down and tried not to draw attention to ourselves on the way to the changing room where we got suited up and waited for further instruction.

Everyone on the team was taking the pressure of this high stakes game a little bit differently. Vinny and Stole were cracking jokes in the corner, trying to relieve some of the tension. Monster was stretching, Matty and Farmer were arm wrestling, a few of the D-men were going over game strategies, Gibbs was sulking over not being able to play tonight, Sal and I were quietly getting in the zone, and everyone else was staring at their phones. We all snapped to attention when Hawthorne and McAvoy showed up to lead us out onto the ice.

We had a pretty good warm up. I got in most of my practice shots and so did everyone else. Our tiny fan club cheered us on the whole time. It was appreciated, but a bit uncomfortable honestly. 

At exactly four o'clock on the dot, we commenced with the anthem and puck dropping festivities. The game got off to a rocky start and it didn’t take long, five minutes and twenty-three seconds exactly, for the Tigers to end up with a power play. I was on the other end of the ice and didn’t see what had happened, but Eli was cursing up a storm on his way to the box.

I stayed out on the penalty kill like usual and we were doing an okay job at first. Matty sent the puck all the way up the ice, and then Spence did the same a few seconds later. By then we were getting tired, but the Tigers had recovered the puck too quickly for us to get a change. The five of them were all spread out across our defensive zone and were zooming the puck back at each other like a game of keep away. We did our best to stay on them, but it was difficult to do shorthanded and on tired legs. Finally, with only thirty seconds left on the penalty, The Tigers’ forward nearest to me sent an absolute missile flying toward the net. Monster was crouched in the opposite corner of his crease. There was no way he’d be able to get over in time… except that he did. Before my very eyes, our goaltender leapt into the air, going horizontal for just a moment, extended his glove and made the save. The crowd started cheering so loudly that I could barely hear the ref’s whistle. Slowly, Monster stood up, rolled his neck, and then gave us all a huge goofy smile as if he hadn’t just made the save of a lifetime. His exuberance gave us all confidence and we easily killed off the rest of the penalty without incident. 

The game slowed down for a bit after that and I spent a good amount of time on the bench. Then, at about fourteen minutes in, we drew a penalty of our own. It was me, Sal, Shawser, Matty, and Spence on the power play, and at first, we weren’t having much luck. Then, after about a minute and a half Sal sent a shot on net that bounced off the pipe. We took a second to regroup. I ended up with the puck and pulled it back to center where I sent it up ice to Matty who fed it back across to Sal for a second try, and this time he didn’t miss. Just like that we were on the board.

Nobody scored for the rest of the period, but the frazzled Tigers kept having poor coverage in front of their net. So much so, that Vinny almost got one in on a juicy rebound, but the goaltender was able to make the save. By the time we filed off the ice for intermission, it was easy to see that this game was going to be a battle of the goaltenders. I can’t remember most of what was said in the changing room. All I know is that we went into the second period with a fire in our bellies.

Less than one minute in, Shawser won the faceoff and passed me the puck. There was nothing but wide-open space between me and the goaltender up the center of the ice. I took a breath, visualized my shot, and fired. It went in with no problems and the goal horn sounded loudly, ringing in my ears.

As if that wasn’t enough, I scored again just nineteen seconds later on a breakaway. The crowd was losing their minds and for a second I almost felt like I was playing in the majors. My teammates were swarming around me and patting my back with glee. It was all I could do to make it back to the bench in my shock. I had never scored back-to-back goals so quickly. According to the announcer, nobody else in the team’s thirty-year history had either. I had just set a new record.

After that I kind of zoned out a little and so did everyone else. The guys on the bench were too busy laughing and bumping shoulders with me to pay much attention to the game. That is, until the end of the period where there was this close call in which all of the Tigers out on the ice were parked in front of our net and chipping away at the puck. It was hard to see behind the pile of bodies, but it was clear that Monster was getting pretty banged up in there. We all thought that there should have been a roughing or goaltender interference call, but the refs kept their whistles down until Monster finally got the puck good and underneath him, stalling it once and for all.

The period ended with us up three-nil. Monster had already made twenty-three saves, and there was still one whole period left to go; and that period did not go as smoothly as we would have hoped.

With fourteen minutes and twenty-seven seconds left on the clock, the Tigers earned their second power play of the night, this time with Shawser in the box. I wasn’t out on the ice for this one because I had just come off of a long shift. Instead, it was Onti out there with our best D-men, and Onti, bless his heart, was not used to the pace of our penalty kills. He caught on pretty quickly that he wasn’t going to be much help in getting the puck out of our zone, so he parked himself in front of Monster and tried his best to help out there. The strategy was a good one, but it ended up backfiring on him when Monster had to make his first save. The goaltender stretched his leg out to the right and the puck bounced off of his blocker, back onto the stick of the attacker. With Monster still out of position, Onti squared up and got ready for the rebound, but to his dismay, the puck ended up deflecting off of the top of his stick and into the net, giving the Tigers their first goal.

The Tigers seemed to pick up momentum after that and with just over nine minutes left, they scored once again, putting the game within one. Monster was livid over at his post and shouted at us as the first line stepped back out onto the ice. I stood outside of the faceoff circle and stared at the puck in the linesman's hand. I was thinking about how much I wanted to win in regulation and then go to my dinner date with Mark. Maybe it was too much to ask for and I was just being greedy trying to have my cake and eat it too, but for the time being, we were still winning. And I intended to keep it that way.

I fought the good fight all throughout that shift and my next one. Then I finally saw my chance to pad our cushion. Shawser had the puck in the corner and was fighting for control of it against the boards. I knew that Shawser was going to get it out; he had way more weight and flexibility on the other guy. When that inevitably happened, I was there. Right in front of the net. I swatted it in without thinking.

Before I knew it, the lights in the stadium were flashing and hats were raining down on the ice. All I could do was blink up at the scoreboard in amazement. Despite my incredible performance all season long, tonight was my first ever hat trick as a Viper. Shawser and Sandman came over and tackled me. We fell down in a heap on the ice. Sal and Eli made it over a few seconds later and joined in. The announcer was screaming about the goal and one of our staffers was picking the dozen or so hats up off of the ice. I stood in a daze and followed my teammates back to the bench where everyone, including Hawthorne and McAvoy gave me a celebratory fist bump.

We weren’t done yet. Up by two with only three minutes left on the clock, we were almost sure to win, but that didn’t stop Eli from getting one more goal just for good measure. The Tigers pulled their goaltender for the extra attacker, but it didn’t end up doing them any good. Time ran out and we won the game five to two. The Vipers were going to play in the championship tournament.

The Tigers filed out of the arena in record time and my teammates flooded the ice. We were all smiling ear to ear and we couldn’t stop hugging each other, though the bulk of the attention seemed to be focused on me and Monster. Even Gibbs was all smiles. With our playoff spot clinched he was probably going to get to play in all of the remaining games of the regular season, which I’m sure was an exciting thought.

Somehow we managed to contain ourselves long enough to hit the showers and get back to the changing room. Hawthorne and McAvoy were out talking to the sports columnist for the school paper, and as I predicted, the boys were making plans to celebrate.

“First we’ll eat our weight in steak, Coach’s treat, and then we’ll head on over to Percy’s for the after party,” Phony was saying. Percy’s was this bar in town that everyone always talked about. I had not been, mostly because I had no interest, and also because I was under twenty-one.

“I can’t make it,” I said automatically, instantly souring the good mood.

“C’mon, Undies,” Vinny begged. “You’re the star! Who else are we gonna brag about to impress the ladies?”

“You’re welcome to say that you scored three goals,” I said with a shrug. Vinny and a couple of the other guys grumbled a little while longer, but that was pretty much the end of it. They weren’t gonna push me. Not after the performance I just gave, and for that, I was grateful.

Onti saw me heading for the bus stop and offered me a ride home. For once, I took him up on it. He was probably still feeling bad about the goal he’d accidentally given up.

Back in my room, Steve was already asleep even though it was only 7:30. That guy kept the weirdest hours, I swear. Nevertheless, I dropped off my stuff as quietly as I could and then went back out into the hall to call Mark.

“Hey, Handsome. Did you get dinner yet?”