Page 141 of Hit Me With Your Best Shot

My eyes dart, tracking the puck like a pinball machine.

Twenty feet…

Ten…

Two.

I slide into position just as the puck ricochets off my blocker, bouncing harmlessly into the corner. My teammates swarm it, battling to clear the zone. The crowd roars, but all I hear is my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.

Another period goes by.

Then the beginning of the third.

Austin stands, clapping, and from here I can see her face lighting up; her fingers go in her mouth, whistling. Next to her, my sister’s holding up a ridiculous sign that reads,GIO = BRICK WALL!in giant letters.

“Brick wall?”Goddamn right I am.

My chest puffs out with importance.

The opposing team pulls their goalie for the extra attacker, desperation dripping from every move they make. My defense holds strong, throwing their bodies in front of shots, clearing the puck every chance they get. But it always comes back. Always.

Thirty seconds.

A scramble in front of the net sends the puck flying toward me. I drop low, my pads sealing off the bottom of the net as the shot deflects off my leg and bounces out. My stick lashes out, sending it toward the boards.

Ten seconds.

The puck clears the zone, and time seems to slow as it slides, untouched, toward their empty net. The buzzer blares before it even crosses the line.

We’ve won.

Fuck yeah, we did—my good luck charm is here.

As the team rushes toward me in celebration, sticks clattering against the ice, helmets knocking into mine, I glance up at the stands, starting my skate over to my sister and Austin and two things happen at once:

She’s holding a sign, but it’s not the sign Nova had.

She isnotsmiling.

My momentum slows, the elation of the win crashing into confusion as I focus on her. The bright yellow poster in her hands has big, blocky letters that I can just make out as she lowers it slightly.

GIO.

I AM PREGNANT.

The words hit me like a slap shot straight to the chest. My skates falter for a moment, and I nearly lose my balance. Mystick drops to the ice, forgotten, as my eyes dart from the sign to Austin's face.

She isn't smiling.

Not even a little.