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Authors: David Skuy

Overtime (19 page)

BOOK: Overtime
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Trisha came to the bench with a big grin on her face. She hopped the boards and stood next to Emily. The two friends punched gloves very softly, as if the goal had been no big deal. Charlie had to hand it to them. Those two were calm under pressure, and that was a big-time shot.

“Peanuts, toffee, toast and pie, Julia will score, and that’s no lie,” Scott and Nick chanted this time.

The noise got even louder, which Charlie hadn’t thought was possible. “I can’t look,” Pudge said. “Tell me when it’s over.”

The whistle blew and suddenly the arena grew quiet, as if everyone watching had taken a collective breath.

Julia went in fast, like Trisha; and again, the goalie was out of her crease. Two metres from the hash marks Julia pulled the puck back. The goalie held firm. Julia brought the puck forward.

Charlie leaned forward, barely able to watch. There wasn’t much to shoot at. The goalie was still way out.

Julia snapped her wrists, and the goalie dropped to her butterfly.

Charlie gasped.

The crowd roared.

Pudge was hugging him, and the Terrence Falls players were jumping up on the bench and screaming and yelling.

At the last possible moment, Julia had faked the shot, taken the puck wide left on her forehand and swept past the helpless goalie to stuff it in the wide-open net.

The Northern shooter skated back to her bench, her stick across her knees, her head down.

Charlie hopped over the boards, and he was not the first one. Michelle, Li and Sandra jumped into Julia’s arms and they began hopping up and down. That broke up quickly and they raced down to Cassie, who waited with arms extended. Soon all the girls were in a group hug, pounding each other on the helmet.

Charlie and Pudge stood to the side. Something didn’t feel right about joining in.

Julia noticed them first. “The boys are all lonely,” she said. Michelle, Sandra and she came over and gave them hugs, and soon all the girls were celebrating with Charlie and Pudge. Charlie felt slightly embarrassed — and at the same time it was fun.

They lined up to shake hands with Northern. He braced himself for a diss when he came to the tall girl.

“Good luck against Chelsea,” she said.

Her friend added, “And good luck with the fundraising.”

Charlie finished shaking hands, and as he skated off caught up with Julia.

“I’ll rank that up with the greatest goals of all time,” Charlie said to Julia.

“We haven’t won yet,” she said.

He could tell she was stoked, though. “You got us closer,” he said. “I could barely watch.”

She hopped off the ice, as did he, and they walked together to the dressing room.

“I was so nervous I thought I’d be sick,” she confessed. “Then that crazy goalie came so far out of her net and I didn’t know what to do. I changed my mind at
the last second, and I was praying, ‘Please don’t poke check me. Please don’t poke check me.’”

“I was saying, ‘Please score. Please score.’”

She laughed and pushed open the dressing room door. Charlie followed her in. She turned and put a hand up to his chest.

“This is kind of the girls’ dressing room, Charlie.”

Michelle and Li were giggling at him from the corner. He felt beyond dumb.

“Um … I’ll go find Pudge,” he said.

But as he opened the door, the rest of the girls piled in and he had to step aside.

“Can we help you, Charlie Joyce?” Emily said.

“Are you afraid to get undressed in your own room?” Trisha teased.

Charlie knew he was beet red. There was no way out of this but leave — and quickly. “I just wanted to say great game, ladies. You won it for us. Awesome. We take this effort level into the Chelsea game and we’ve won that money.”

“Charlie Joyce came in to give us a victory speech,” Trisha said. “How cute is that, girls?”

Emily laughed. “Very cute, Charlie Joyce.”

“Thanks, Charlie Joyce,” the girls chorused, giggling.

“Right. Yeah. Thanks. Bye.”

He retreated to his dressing room. Pudge was unwrapping the tape from his shin pads. Zachary, Scott and Matt were sitting across from him on the opposite bench, and Nick was in his wheelchair in the middle of the room.

“It’s the Ladies’ Man,” Scott announced.

Charlie took off his helmet and slumped next to
Pudge. “I really do stupid things sometimes,” he said.

“You also state the obvious a lot,” Nick said.

“And was there a reason you decided to almost not score in the shootout?” Scott said, with pretended curiosity. “In hockey you try to put the puck past the other team’s goalie.”

“How would you know?” Nick said. “Have you ever scored?”

“No,” Scott said, “but I knew a guy who knew a guy who had a cousin who once scored a goal in practice.”

“My mistake,” Nick said, holding his hands up in the air. “I didn’t realize you were an expert.”

“Chelsea is playing next,” Zachary said. “We should check them out. Maybe Savard and Burnett didn’t join.”

“They won their first game 14–2,” Pudge said, tossing a tape ball into the garbage. “I’m pretty sure they’re here.”

“Then we better play every period like it’s overtime,” Charlie said.

It had all come down to one game, and with the four boys across from him unable to play, Terrence Falls was seriously undermanned — literally. They had barely beat Northern in a shootout. Would it be enough against the Chelsea powerhouse?

It had better be.

26
REVERSAL OF FORTUNE

Charlie heaved a huge sigh and skated to the faceoff circle to Cassie’s left. He glanced at the clock — 2:25 to play and the score tied at three apiece. Chelsea had just missed an open net. Their winger took a fraction of a second too long to shoot and Pudge had been able to drive across the line and stop the puck. Cassie had then scrambled over and fallen on the puck to get a stoppage in play.

Savard was already in the circle to Cassie’s left. Hilton had made sure Charlie was almost always out against him, and on the few shifts he could not be, Emily had stepped up big time. Savard had scored two goals, but all things considered, Charlie thought that was a major victory. Even better was that while Chelsea had scored two in the first period, which gave them the first point, Terrence Falls had rallied for two in the next period to snag the second. They had traded markers in the third; and with so little time left, the next goal would almost certainly win it.

Charlie adopted a reverse grip and approached the faceoff. The ref held the puck over the dot and hesitated. That hesitation made Charlie flinch and he pulled his
stick back. The ref straightened out and pointed.

“New centre for Terrence Falls,” she said.

Charlie put his stick across his knees and looked up at the ref. “I barely moved my stick,” he said.

She pointed again.

“You’re supposed to drop the puck when you hold it out,” he said.

The look on her face suggested he’d better keep his mouth shut if he didn’t want a penalty. He left the circle. Trisha brushed by him. Julia had taken a step towards the dot, but seeing Trisha already set up, she slowly drifted back to the hash marks. Charlie took Trisha’s spot, behind Emily.

Charlie looked to the point. Burnett had switched sides with the other defenceman, standing three metres inside the blue line close to the top of the circle. He had a deadly slapshot.

Emily looked over her shoulder. “You got him?”

“No problem,” Charlie said.

Charlie took a step away from the Chelsea left winger to make sure he had a clear path to Burnett.

Savard slapped Trisha’s stick; then the ref dropped the puck. It was child’s play for Savard to backhand the puck with a reverse grip towards Burnett. Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. He rushed towards Burnett, who had already begun his backswing. In horror Charlie felt himself tumble to the ice. He had tripped over the extended left foot of Chelsea’s left winger, but he had no time to consider if the trip was deliberate. Burnett was winding up right in front of him. He put a glove over his face and braced himself.

He didn’t feel anything. A roar went up from the
crowd. Charlie looked up and then let his head sink back to the ice. Burnett had his stick over his head. No surprise there — it was too good a chance for Burnett to miss.

Trisha was screaming at the ref. “He hit my freakin’ stick,” she fumed. “What’s wrong with you. Are you blind? Are you stupid?”

“Button it, number 10, or you’ll get an unsportsmanlike,” the ref said.

“You threw our centre out for nothing, and then their centre whacks my stick before the draw and you drop the puck. Do you want Chelsea to win? Do you teach there or something?”

Julia stepped in between them and pushed Trisha away. “Forget it,” she said.

“But he totally hit my stick,” she screamed, looking at the ref.

“Trisha, you’ll get a penalty. We’ll get it back.”

Trisha growled and stomped her skate blade on the ice before letting Julia lead her away. Charlie stood, dejected, by the blue line.

One of the refs passed him.

“Didn’t you see their winger trip me?” Charlie said to him.

The ref shrugged. “Not my call. Ask the other ref,” he said, looking away.

Charlie sat next to Trisha.

“I got tripped on the play by the left winger,” he said. “She totally stuck out her foot. The refs are sleeping.”

Trisha didn’t respond.

“I … um … I said, I got tripped …” he began again.

“I heard you,” Trisha said. “Don’t worry about it.”
She stood up as Emily gathered the puck at the blue line. “Go for it, Em. Coast to coast,” she called.

Emily dipsy-doodled her way past a forechecker and cut up ice into Chelsea’s half of the neutral zone. Burnett was still out there and he swerved towards her, sweeping his stick at the puck. Emily was a hair quicker and fired it into their end, side-stepping Burnett and charging after it. Charlie admired her hustle. The girl never stopped skating.

The Chelsea goalie scooted to the corner to corral the puck, leaving it there for her defenceman. She took it on her forehand. The sight of Emily bearing down on her must have set her nerves off because rather than play it safe and rifle the puck behind the net she panicked and sent it up the middle. Sandra was there first, and moved in on goal.

The ref blew the play down.

The Terrence Falls students rose and cheered. Burnett had hooked her from behind, and the ref had called a penalty. Burnett was shaking his head and laughing, as if it was a bad call. Charlie wondered if it shouldn’t have been a penalty shot. Trisha obviously felt the same, and she made sure the refs heard her opinion.

“She was on a breakaway,” she yelled. “That’s an obvious penalty shot. Come on. Get in the game. That’s two lame calls. You’re so bogus it hurts.”

She was going too far. The ref would give them a bench penalty if she kept it up. “Trisha. We got the man advantage. We can’t afford to even it up,” he said.

Trisha stared at him, enraged. “Did you see it? Did you? She was on a breakaway.” She banged the top of the boards. “The ref is giving them the game.”

Charlie sat back. She wasn’t going to listen to him.

Julia said softly, “Trisha, you’re going to get a penalty. We need you for the last shift. You can’t go to the box. You’re right, but the refs aren’t going to change their minds.”

Trisha turned to her sharply, and then without a word sat back down. Hunched over, she rocked and continued to shake her head. “Unbelievable,” she muttered several times. She stood up suddenly and sought Hilton’s attention.

“Should we switch it up, Coach?” she said.

“They just got out there,” Hilton answered.

“We should pull the goalie now and have a two-man advantage,” Trisha said.

Hilton pursed his lips. “There’s still too much time on the clock for my liking. Give them another thirty seconds.” He waved at Cassie and then the clock, holding up one finger. “I’m going to leave Emily out there. Trisha and Julia shift for Sandra and Sophie. Charlie, you’ll go on for Cassie when she comes off. Get the puck under control, and set Pudge up at the point for a shot. Okay?”

“Got it,” Charlie said.

Julia nodded.

Trisha grabbed his shoulder. “We have to get on the ice,” she said.

He understood how she felt. He’d been there. She just wanted to win so badly it was hard for her to control her feelings.

“Get ready,” he said to her. “We’re going to tie this up.”

He held out his glove and they punched.

“Bring it back, Em,” Trisha screamed.

Emily couldn’t possibly hear, not with the noise the crowd was making. Somehow Nick and Scott had found drums for this game, and the Terrence Falls fans were clapping to the beat. Still, Charlie began to urge Emily on, as well.

The ref dropped the puck and Emily knocked it to the corner. The Chelsea defender and Sandra fought for control. The puck squibbed up the wall to the point and Pudge punched it back deep. The scene repeated itself, only this time, the Chelsea winger was able to chip it out off the boards. Michelle raced across, gathered the puck on her forehand, and skated across the neutral zone to the far boards. The Chelsea left winger pressured her before she could cross the red line, however, forcing Michelle to pass to Sophie about two metres outside the blue line. Chelsea’s left defenceman was there to challenge, and Sophie could not get it in. Savard swooped over, and with three powerful strides got the puck to centre and sent it deep into Terrence Falls’ end.

Charlie sat back down. There was a minute and thirty seconds left. Lots of time if they could get it back down the ice quickly. He took a sip of water and readied himself. Cassie would follow the play and come off with the rush. Pudge had the puck behind the net. He faked to his right and came around the left side, about three metres from the boards. A forechecker moved in. Pudge waited for her to commit, and then sent a sweet pass to Emily breaking across the top of the circle.

“Get out of the way, ref!” Trisha screamed. She smashed her stick on the boards.

Charlie couldn’t blame her. The puck deflected off the ref’s skate and spun crazily to the wall near the blue
line. Savard was first to it, and he jammed it back into their zone, killing valuable seconds off the clock.

BOOK: Overtime
12.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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