Cement Heart(16)

Brody hustled down the tunnel trying to keep up with me as I practically jogged to the ice. Mike was out there shooting against Louie, who was manning the goal for him.

“You ready, pretty boy?” I called out as I skated over to them.

Big Mike smiled confidently and nodded. “Hell yeah. Louie is sticking around to watch. You wanna have one goalie and play with half the rink, or you wanna use both guys and play full?”

“We’re old and my legs are killing me. Let’s play half.”

“Sounds good.” Mike whistled to Louie and skated over to let him know we wouldn’t need him.

In my initial hurry out to the ice, I’d dropped my bag on the bench. I skated over to it and pulled a hot pink tutu out, hanging it on a hook on the inside of the boards. “See this?” I yelled, pointing at the tutu. “This is what we’re playing for, or playing against.”

Mike skated over, stopping just a few feet from me. “It’ll look great on you.” He winked arrogantly.

“Hey!” Brody called out from the goalie box. “Let’s get this show on the road. We’re having dinner at Sophia’s tonight, and Kacie’ll kill me if I’m late.”

“I’m ready.” I skated out to the center, right behind Mike. “Any specific rules?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “Nothing I can think of. First guy to score three goals on Murphy wins. Play your ass off. Think that about covers it, yeah?”

“Sounds good.” I held my fist up in the air and Mike punched it.

Game on.



Since we no longer needed Louie to play goalie for us, we gave him the job of dropping the puck. He skated over to center ice and Big Mike and I took our positions. Louie held the puck up in the air for two seconds and dropped it between us. Our sticks crashed together as we each tried to smack the puck out of the middle and off to the side, where we could gain control of it. I pushed the puck between Mike’s legs and out the other side.

“Shit!” he yelled as I skated around him quickly and took control of the puck. I handled the puck out and around the goal, putting some distance in between Big Mike and myself. I looped around the other side, and before Mike could get in between me and the goal, I flicked my wrist and sent a snapshot toward the goal.

Blocked.

Fuck you, Murphy!

He passed the puck to Louie, who carried it back to the middle where we started all over again.

“You got lucky. It won’t happen again,” Mike grumbled around his mouth guard as his eyes shimmered with determination.

“Watch me.” I tried to sound just as confident, but I wasn’t a dummy. I was the enforcer. My main job during every game was to beat the crap out of any guy that hurt one of our guys and then sit in the penalty box. Scoring was not expected from me, and my puck handling wasn’t near as strong as Mike’s, so my cocky attitude had to make up for what I lacked in skills.

Louie dropped the puck, but Mike was right. He was faster off the draw than I was that time as he pulled the puck back toward himself and skated toward Brody. I did my best to catch up and get in between them, but Mike was quick. He weaved his stick left and right and when he had an open shot, he took it. The puck flashed like lightning over the ice. I followed it with my eyes and watched as Brody dropped to his knees to block it, but it bounced off the left post and crossed over the red line.

Son of a bitch!

I hung my head as Big Mike’s hands flew up in the air in celebration.

“Nice shot,” I congratulated as we met in the middle again.

“Thank you. Wanna just concede now and save yourself any more humiliation?” He laughed.

“Fuck that. Let’s go.” I crouched down again, impatiently waiting for Louie to drop his arm.



The black flash of the puck was barely in front me for a millisecond before I was swinging at it, trying to gain control, but once again, Big Mike was too fast. He swatted the puck off toward Brody this time, and we were in a full-on sprint to see who would get to it first. Mike beat me to it by no more than two seconds, and rather than swipe at it and steal it from him, I did what I know how to do. Lowering my shoulder, I crashed into Mike as hard as I could, sending him flying backward and landing on his ass. As his brain registered that this wasn’t just some cordial hockey game, but a game of pride, he glared at me and scrambled to his feet. I hooked the puck and skated backward just a little bit to put space between us again. My handling wasn’t good enough to get close to Brody and try and fake him out. I needed to shoot from as far away as I could and hope that Brody would make a mistake. I wound up and shot it as hard as I could.

Blocked.