Chapter 40

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CALLUM

"Are you ready?", I shout, my voice echoing in the locker room. All the guys give me a nod, only Henry answers with an "Yes, sir." I raise an eyebrow at him, the gesture has him chuckling, that bastard, then he clears his throat with everyone laughing in the background and corrects himself: "Yes, Cap."

"No pressure", I keep going on. When in fact there is a lot of fucking pressure. "I know Berkeley High is good, but so are we. So don't let them get the better of you. Show them who actually rules the ice here."

"Elsa...", Henry mumbles.

Another laughter through the team.

"That's fifty push-ups for you, Torres", I hiss.

He doesn't comment as he basically bolts in a push-up position, and cheerfully says: "Yes, sir." Then, with a smirk on his face: "I mean Cap."

"You're starting to make them hundred", I roll my eyes. "Anyway", back to the team. "I am confident we can win today. We trained for months for this moment. We just have to put in practice what we learned so far. No big deal. Take it easy. Keep your head in the game. Focus is key."

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, was a TED talk", Henry again.

I rub my temples, not minding another comment. He's clearly not in the mood to stop.

"Okay, let's get it in here", I shout again, reaching out my hand. Everybody quickly joins me, even Henry, who saw the opportunity to ditch his push-ups for our team handshake. "On the count of three", I growl. "One...Two...Three.."

"Go, Colton", everybody ends the phrase.

I nod once, before clapping them on the back. After I went through everyone of our team members, I start leading the way out of the locker room and on the ice. The by now familiar spotlights greet me, then the roar of the crowd. Clapping, shouting, whistling. It fuels our ego. Feeds our soul. Makes the stakes even higher, knowing that if you fuck it up, you fuck it up in front of all these people that came here to support you.

It's a very terrifying thought.

Pushing that aside, I go shake hands with Bernard Green, hockey captain at Berkley, and wait for the whistle showing us we can get a move on. As soon as I hear that sound, my every instinct kicks in and I realise it's show time. My eyes only have one focus. The puck. I watch at Henry takes control of it, passing it over to Patrick. Patrick then gives it to Ledger, who then passes it to me.

The first goal wasn't an easy one, but as soon as the puck reaches the net and I can hear the crowd cheers, the blood starts pulsing in my veins, but not at all scaring. Yet soothing. I thrive on that feeling.

In the few seconds I allow myself to look at the crowd to celebrate, I spot it.

Better said her.

Blonde waves and sky blue eyes greet me, as I see Katie standing in one of the aisles. She's wearing my hoodie, her baggy jeans and that pink headband I grew to love, and even holds a poster saying "I" then a heart, then "SLADE 18". I can't help the mouth twitch, that turns into a full smile as our eyes meet and Katie offers me the warmest of looks.

And to make it even better, she even gives me one of those air kisses she promised.

But I will. One day I'll come at your game, and I'll be wearing your hoodie. You'll be on the ice, kicking ass and doing those cool things you do, and I'd be in the stands, cheering your name and sending you air kisses.

I wipe my eyes, maybe I'm living a dream, but no...There she is. All smiling and loving, looking at me like I just put the moon up in the sky.

I can see her best friend Avery, who has been standing next to her this whole time, whispering something in her ears, that has Katie chuckling, before she winks at me once.

The sound of skates on the ice pulls me back, and adrenaline kicks in once more.

There is no way I'm losing this game.

Not with my girlfriend standing for the first time in the stands.

By the time Henry scores the second goal, my heart is roaring with enthusiasm.

It all drops as Green manages to get the puck in our net, securing Berkley the first points.

It ain't over yet, I try to calm myself down.

Katie is there with us through it all. She cheers when we score, frowns when Berkley scores, lets out a pained gasp every time someone accidentally, or not, hits me.

And even though it's hard as fuck, I try to keep my mind on the ice. On the game. And not the Sunshine in the stands.

I try my best. Might not have worked all the time, but a fair 99% of it.

But that one percent...

Filled with views of what happened the last time that hoodie was on her. Filled with images of her smile. Her eyes. Her.

I lift my fist up in the air as the puck magically slides from where I pushed it with the stick inside the net.

As I look up, I'm rewarded with another air kiss.

And call me whatever you'd like, but I'm sucker for that girl's air kisses.

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