Cinderella in Skates (9 page)

And then, just like that, the final bell rings, and I'm out of time to worry.

Now I just have to do it.

I make my way slowly over to the locker room where I left my gym bag and goalie equipment this morning. Several other girls are already there changing for tryouts.
 

"You're new, right?" one of them asks me as she slips a T-shirt on over her head.
 

I nod as I unzip my bag. "Yeah. To the school and hockey," I say with a smile.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Arizona."
 

She raises an eyebrow. "And you played hockey?"
 

"No," I admit. "But hockey's still pretty popular out there. I just started playing when I moved here."
 

"What position?"

"Goalie."
 

The girls exchange glances and I feel the pit in my stomach start to come back. I don't like that look, and I'm not sure I want to know what it means.
 

"Well, good luck," she says.
 

"Yeah, you're gonna need it," another adds. "Erica Wunders has been our goalie since she could walk. I mean, all the way up through elementary school and middle school and all those kid leagues and stuff, it was always Erica. Everyone knew she'd win the starting job here on her first day and she did."
 

I shrug. "I don't need to start or anything like that. Just want to make the team."
 

Even though I mean every word of what I just said, the words feel funny when I hear them out loud...like I'm totally fine with being second best. That's never been the case for me before, but it's enough for me now.

I try to brush off the icky feeling that gives me.

"That's probably a good attitude to have when you're going up against Erica. See you out there," one of the girls says as the group picks up their skates and heads for the rink, leaving me alone in the empty locker room.

I finish putting on my gym clothes then begin strapping myself into my pads, glad for the moment to myself.

I know today isn't a big deal, not in the grand scheme of things, anyway, but I can't get a grip on myself. My heart keeps pounding, palms sweating all afternoon. If I don't get this right, I won't be back in Arizona until August. I try to remind myself that isn't so bad -- it's just a few more months and, hey, maybe it's even a few more months with Shane.

But I still want this.
 

I can't turn off that competitive drive in me.
 

And you know what?

I'm going to get it.
 

***
 

I'm one of the last people to walk into the rink a few minutes later, and my eyes immediately search out and find two other girls dressed in goalie gear. I'm positive one of them is the apparent hockey prodigy Erica Wunders. Must be nice to know you have a spot on the team locked up and tryouts are nothing more than a formality.

Coach Dobrov walks in a few minutes later, letting the door slam empathically behind her as it echoes throughout the nearly-empty arena.
 

She walks up to us without a word, scans the line of girls in front of her -- I try not to wilt under her gaze when it lands on me -- then nods once before blowing the whistle hanging around her neck.
 

"Welcome," she says in a voice that feels anything but. "I'm very pleased with the turnout today. Best I've seen in my ten years coaching here. My assistant coaches will be in shortly so that we may begin our tryouts. Until then, I'd like to assess your conditioning. Hit the ice. Far goal line."
 

I already know what's coming -- it's the same sprinting drill Shane's had me do countless times, the one that I always give him a dirty look for suggesting.

We're supposed to skate from the goal line to the blue line and back, then to the first red line and back, and so on until we've skated to each line on the ice and back to the beginning.
 

And we're supposed to do this as many times as she wants us to before she tells us to stop.

Shane never had me go more than three full laps, and I'm pretty sure I'll die if Coach Dobrov wants us to do anything more than that.

Somehow I find myself lined up in between both goalies -- only two of us will make it, and apparently Erica Wunders is already one of them, so it's down to me and one other girl.

I won't lie; I'd definitely been hoping that there would only be two people trying out for the position and I'd essentially be guaranteed a spot and that would be that.
 

But instead, I guess I'm going to have to actually be okay at this.
 

The whistle blows and we take off skating, and the first lap isn't so bad. Maybe Shane was onto something when he kept making me do this drill after all. I breeze through it and it's only a few minutes later that I notice a few girls have already dropped out,
 
including one of the goalies.

My eyes widen slightly and I wobble just a bit as I lose my focus on the ice. That's
got
to be the girl who's my real competition for the spot -- no way Erica Wunders wouldn't be in good enough shape to finish out a drill she's so used to doing year after year. And if this girl can't hack it, well, I'm pretty sure I've already got this tryout in the bag.
 

I smile and fly through the rest of the drill with ease after my newfound confidence gives me the boost I don't even really know I need.
 

Coach Dobrov blows the whistle, ends the sprints and divides us up into individual groups based on what position we're trying out for. I'm down at one end of the rink with Erica, the other girl and an assistant coach I've never seen before.

"Erica, help me set this up, would you?" The new coach nods at the girl who'd dropped out of the drill and my jaw drops.
 

That had been
Erica
?
 

She's in such bad shape right before the start of the season?

No, that can't make sense.
 

Unless...
 

Well, the only logical explanation is that she'd stopped because she knew she had her spot wrapped up and didn't need to keep going.
 

But I can't ever imagine doing that, even in her position.

That's the kind of person Coach Dobrov wants on her team?
 

Then again, when you have the kind of talent Erica supposedly has, I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?
 

I try not to let out a long, defeated sigh but I guess I don't do a very good job because the other girl glances over at me and smiles from behind her goalie mask.
 

"They love her," she mutters. "Golden girl who can't do anything wrong."
 

I grimace. "How'd you know?"

"That you were thinking about her?" She laughs. "I've tried out the last two years and this is the first time when they don't already have a back-up goalie. Coach Dobrov's pretty loyal."
 

"Even when they loaf it through tryouts?"
 

She shrugs. "Guess that's the reward for making the team. I'm Clara."
 

"Natalie."
 

She smiles at me, and I think it's too bad that she seems so nice because I'm going to have to kick her ass at these tryouts.
 

"Okay," the assistant coach says. "We're just going to start with the basics. I'll stand at this face-off circle and Erica will stand at the opposite one, and we'll pepper you with shots. Stop them. Clara, get in net."

I skate over to the boards to watch Clara's run at the first drill. The assistant coach takes the first shot -- Clara tracks the puck the whole way and reacts well, dipping her knee pads down to deflect the shot harmlessly away from the back of the net. Not bad. She stops Erica's weak, bouncing shot and a few more from the coach before she loses focuses and a barrage of shots find their way buried behind her.

And I know I can do better than that.

I switch places with Clara and get my bearings in the net, angling my body toward the assistant coach, ready for the first shot.
 

The next thing I know, Erica's fired on me and I lunge to my left, swing out my stick and just manage to deflect the shot enough to keep it from blasting past me into the net for a goal.
 

"Not bad," the coach calls out. "Not bad at all."
 

I stop most of the shots that come my way, and when I turn around, there are just three pucks behind me in the net -- way less than what Clara let in.
 

We run through several more drills -- Erica even takes part in a couple of them -- before the assistant (Coach King, she told us midway through the second activity) dismisses us, letting us know that Coach Dobrov will post the final roster in the rink in two days.
 

I'm happy walking back to the locker room, skates in hand, knowing that I don't think I could've done much better this afternoon to impress, when Erica Wunders falls into step beside me.
 

"That wasn't half bad," she says. "For a desert girl and all."
 

I frown, the snottiness in her voice not lost on me. "Well, I'm a Wisconsin girl now," I say, surprising myself when I realize I don't totally hate the way that sounds.

The corners of Erica's mouth twitch. "We'll see about that, won't we?"
 

"Uh, I guess so."
 

"I mean, you're probably not going to beat out Clara or anything so I wouldn't get too excited."
 

My heart's racing -- I have no idea what Erica's trying to do here -- but I keep my face stoney and calm. "We'll see about that, won't we?"
 

Confusion flashes across Erica's face but it disappears as quickly as it comes. "I'd trust me on this one," she says smoothly as if she hasn't missed a beat. Maybe she hasn't. "I know hockey."
 

"And I'm starting to," I reply. "And I think I did a pretty bang-up job."
 

Erica smirks. "That's the difference between you and me, I guess," she replies. "Catch you later, Natalie." She picks up her pace and walks right past the locker room and for that, I'm grateful.
 

What, I wonder, is that all about?

CHAPTER EIGHT

December

Two days later is the day we've been waiting for the last month. It's my judgment day, at least in the eyes of West High School's hockey coaches.
 

Yep.

Today's the day we find out who made the team.

My stomach's in knots, twisting and twirling and really mad at me for not eating my usual breakfast, when I get to school in the morning.
 

Coach Dobrov
 
had said she'd post her final roster first thing in the morning outside the rink so I head over that way, hoping it's up before I have to be in first period History.
 

It's quiet by the arena, but this doesn't surprise me. There hadn't been many new faces trying out for the team, according to one of the girls. Apparently joining the hockey team wasn't all that popular. How embarrassing will it be if I'm the only one who doesn't get a spot?

I push open the door and make my way over to the bulletin board where Coach Dobrov had said she'd leave the list.

And I almost fall over.

I know the tall, athletic body with the mop of blonde hair leaning against the wall next to the cork board. I'd recognize him anywhere. I just have no idea what he's doing here, today, now. We're done training.

"Well, good morning," I say as I make my way over to him. "What're you doing here?"

He grins and removes his thumbs from the belt loops of his jeans. "What, you think I'd miss this? I'm your coach. This is your big moment."
 

"At least I won't have to get shot down alone," I mutter.
 

"Hey, stop that. You worked really hard. You deserve this."
 

"Doesn't mean I got it. And don't you have to be in class?"

He shrugs. "They don't take attendance. I'm good. And, besides, this is more important."
 

There's a small smile on his lips as my eyes move away from him and onto the white piece of paper tacked to the board.

"Is that it?" I ask. He nods once. "Did you already look at it?"

"No. I was waiting for you."

"Well," I say, taking a deep breath. "I guess we might as well get this over with."
 

Visions of palm trees and cacti and summers by the pool under the beautiful blue desert sky flash through my mind as I walk toward the roster. This is it. My one shot, the only way I'll get back there sooner rather than later. This list will let me go
home
. I have to have made it.
 

Have to.

My heart pounds and I think I'm going to need to make a run for the bathroom to throw up before I ever get to see it.

But then Shane falls into step beside me, and I keep walking.
 

We stop in front of the bulletin board. I suck in some air and look.

And there it is:
 

GOALIE DEPTH CHART:

Wunders, Erica (1)
 

Melter, Natalie (2)

So.

I've done it.
 

I'm on the team.

"Natalie!" Shane exclaims. "Yes!"

I turn and fling my arms around him and he lifts me a few inches off the ground and spins me around.
 

"I'm so proud of you!" he continues.

"I can't believe I did it!"
 

I'm looking down into his face, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes, and he's beaming up at me and the next thing I know, he's pressed his soft, warm lips against mine and I'm kissing him back and my head is spinning with thoughts of hockeyShanehockeyShanehockeyShane.
 

His hockey player hands press into my back as he holds me up.