Sophomore Surge

by K R Collins

  Sophie rolls her eyes but lets it go. She glances at Carruthers, hanging back and looking as overwhelmed as the girl. “Do you have any advice for an aspiring hockey player?”

  “Oh, she doesn’t play hockey,” the girl’s mom says even as Carruthers crouches down to say, “Have fun. You’ll never get better if you don’t want to be at the rink every day.”

  “I’m a gymnast but hockey seems kinda cool. Do you wanna see my cartwheel?”

  They have to find somewhere less crowded, but she’s able to show off her cartwheel, and all three hockey players clap approvingly.

  “We’re going to check out the accuracy shooting, but can we sign your hockey stick before we go?” Sophie asks.

  The mom eyes them with suspicion again. “Who are you?”

  Sophie smiles. “This is Dmitri Ivanov, Eldon Carruthers, and I’m Sophie Fournier. We—”

  The mom’s mouth drops open. “You’re hockey players. Tom’s going to be so jealous.”

  “Daddy slept in today,” the girl pipes up. “He didn’t want to come with us.”

  “Do you want a picture?” Sophie offers.

  After they part ways with the mom and daughter, they stop by the accuracy booth. Dima jumps into line and sets the fastest record. He cellies as if he scored the game-winner in the Maple Cup final. The kids in line eat it up, and they take another round of pictures.

  Sophie defends both her titles from last year, winning the stickhandling competition and the obstacle course. The next day is the All-Star game itself, but it isn’t until the afternoon. In part, it’s to give the players time to recover from their hangovers, but there’s also a Family Skate held in the morning. Sophie has to go even though she doesn’t have any family here.

  Dima’s parents didn’t fly in from Russia, but he scoops up one of Dubya’s kids and skates around the ice, dodging other players and their families. Sophie finds a quiet corner where she juggles a puck because if she’s boring enough, the cameras won’t linger on her.

  She holds her stick behind her back, tosses the puck up into the air, finds it, and catches it in front of her.

  “Wow.”

  Sophie drops the puck, startled. The speaker is a woman in thick leggings and an even thicker sweater. Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and she looks unsteady on her skates, holding onto Dennison’s arm for balance.

  “She’s one of the best in the League,” Dennison says. Then, to Sophie. “This is my wife, Laura. Laura, this is Sophie Fournier.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Laura says.

  “Same.” Sophie glances at Dennison, wondering what the hell he’s playing at. They barely even know each other. Why is he introducing her to his wife?

  “No boyfriend to skate with?” Laura’s smile is friendly, but Sophie still draws her shoulders up.

  She can’t help but check to see if there are any cameras lurking. She doesn’t see any, but it doesn’t mean Dennison or Laura aren’t mic’d up. “I’m focusing on hockey right now.”

  Her answer catches Laura off guard. Her smile slips and she glances at Dennison who offers no help. “Hockey does take up a lot of time. I feel like I never see Riley once he’s in season.”

  “I live alone.”

  Laura nods and the conversation sputters out. Dennison doesn’t seem bothered by it. Before things can grow too awkward, a little girl skates over with unsteady strides. She alternates between staring at her skates and staring at Sophie, awed and overwhelmed. She’s wearing a black All-Star jersey which means her father is on Team Freedman. Sophie takes a knee as the girl reaches them. “Hi.”

  “You’re Sophie Fournier.” The girl’s English is heavy with a French accent. “You were my favorite in the Winter Games.”

  “I was proud to represent Team Canada.”

  The girl nods, solemn. “My papa too. He was captain. Will you be captain next Games?”

  This is a little Ducasse, then. “I don’t think I’ll be captain. Do you remember Adrienne Stewart?” The girl nods. “She’ll be my captain in Helsinki, but I’ll be proud to be one of her alternates.”

  “Were the Mammoths really your favorite team growing up?”

  Sophie shares a secret smile with her. “Bobby Brindle was my first hockey jersey.”

  “The Mammoths are my favorite team too. My papa’s my favorite boy player in the whole NAHL. You’re my favorite girl player.” She shyly holds out a silver Sharpie. “Will you sign my jersey?”

  “Of course. What’s your name?”

  “Ada,” she says as she turns so Sophie can write on the back. To Ada and a forever love of Team Canada, Sophie Fournier 93. Ada giggles as the marker loops across her back. “You’re writing a lot.”

  “I want it to be special for you.”

  Ada’s cheeks are pink as she turns back around. “Merci.”

  Sophie hands her the marker. “De rien.” It’s a mistake, because suddenly Ada’s chatting in French, and Sophie’s command of the language isn’t strong enough to keep up with an overexcited kid.

  Fortunately, Ducasse skates over, visible relief on his face when he sees his daughter. It shifts into something more guarded when he sees Sophie, still kneeling on the ice.

  “Papa!” Ada somehow starts talking even faster as she skates over, arms held up. Her dad lifts her into his arms as Sophie gets back to her skates.

  “I hope she wasn’t any trouble,” Ducasse says.

  “She’s a sweet girl even if she’s cheering for the wrong team.”

  Ada twists in her dad’s arms. “Am not!”

  “It’s okay,” Sophie tells her, full-out grinning. “I was a Mammoths fan when I was little too, but I grew out of it. There’s still hope for you.”

  Ada draws a breath to defend her dad’s team and then pauses. “Maybe I can have two favorite teams. The Mammoths can be my favorite Canadian team and the Condors can be my favorite American team.”

  “You’ll be just like my mémé. Do you know who her favorite player on the Mammoths is?”

  Ada’s gaze darts to her dad. When Sophie nods, Ada tugs on her dad’s jersey sleeve. “You have to sign something for Sophie’s mémé. She signed my jersey for me. Wanna see?” She twists again and Ducasse narrowly avoids dropping her as she shows off the back of her jersey.

  “It was very nice of her.” Ducasse looks over at Sophie. “I can give you one of my All-Star jerseys if you want.”

  Sophie doesn’t answer right away, because Captain Canada is offering her one of his jerseys. “Um, thank you. You don’t have to.”

  “We’re countrymen, eh? I’ll have it for you before the game this afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” Sophie says again.

  Ducasse nods and then skates away with his daughter, lightly scolding her for disappearing without any warning.

  “Wow,” Dennison says, and Sophie startles because she forgot he and Laura were still here. “I’m not sure who was more starstruck there, you or Ada.”

  “Fuck off,” Sophie says and Dennison laughs, delighted.

  Sophie centers Figuli again and even without Dima on the wing, their line puts up half their team’s goals and leads Team Freedman to the win. Afterward, they take a bunch of pictures, of the team and the oversized check they’re donating to the Freedman Foundation which provides hockey equipment to underprivileged kids in the Atlanta area. The home crowd cheers the announcement and there are more pictures before another round of media and they’re finally allowed to leave.

  It was a good weekend, but as soon as she lands, fun time is over. There’s still a lot of work to be done so Concord can make the playoffs this year.

  Chapter Sixteen

  CONCORD DREW THE short scheduling straw this year. They have a road game the Monday after the All-Star break which means an early flight to Pittsburgh and a brief pregame skate before they play. To make matters worse, it’s the first game of a back-to-back which means a late night flight to Memphis for another game.

  They wo
n’t have a real practice until three days after their break, and Sophie’s nervous. They haven’t played together as a team since their loss to DC and most of her teammates haven’t touched a hockey stick since then. She reminds herself they’re all professional athletes and have been playing hockey for at least a decade if not more. A couple of days off won’t make them all forget how to play.

  They skate a few easy laps on Pittsburgh’s ice and swap stories from their breaks. They partner up to pass back and forth.

  “Beaches.” Merlin sighs happily as he passes to Sophie. She has to reach to catch it on her tape. “Plural, as in many beaches. Sand and sun all day long.”

  “I had hockey. I win.”

  Down the line, Garfield’s pass takes a weird bounce and skitters over Nelson’s stick. They cheerfully heckle each other, blaming each other for the missed pass as the puck bumps gently against the boards.

  “Is this social hour or hockey practice?” Coach Butler demands.

  The rink falls silent. Spitz turns to Coach and misses Kuzy’s pass. Their puck clunks against the boards near Garfield and Nelson’s.

  Coach Butler’s face turns an unflattering shade of red. “You were shit going into the break and none of you practiced over the break so you haven’t gotten any better. The only one of you who had a stick in their hands recently was Fournier but with all the circus shit at the All-Star Weekend, it’ll be a miracle if she remembers how to play hockey. So cut the chatter and up the effort.”

  Spitz ventures across the ice to pick up the errant puck. While he’s there, he grabs Nelson’s as well.

  Coach blows his whistle, sharp, the noise cutting through the quiet rink, and Sophie winces. “What did I just fucking say? Effort! Nelson can get his own puck. Maybe next time he’ll catch it on his stick instead of letting it by him.”

  Spitz glances at Kuzy and then Matty, panic in the wide set of his eyes. At Matty’s nod, he drops the puck back to the ice. He skates by Nelson on his way back to his position, and Sophie sees his lips move in an apology.

  Well, she thinks as she turns back to Merlin. This is a great start to the final push of our season.

  They lose to Pittsburgh and Memphis. It drops them down to sixth in their division, two places out of a playoff spot. When they come to practice on January 16, Coach Butler does nothing but skate them for the first half of their practice. They skate red line to red line until Sophie’s quads burn, and she doesn’t have enough time to catch her breath between whistles.

  Finally, Coach takes his whistle out of his mouth. Sophie doesn’t dare bend over, but she takes advantage of the pause to drag in a few desperate lungfuls of air.

  “Do you want to give up?” Coach Butler demands. He looks down the line, and Sophie forces herself to meet his gaze. “Maybe you think if you suck enough, we’ll draft Chad Kensington this summer. You want the flashy new kid on our team?”

  No one has the breath to answer, but he doesn’t need one.

  “You want Kensington? Fine. First, look around and decide who we’re giving up to get him. If this team tanks, we’re selling at the trade deadline. Who will go? Nelson? Garfield? Lindholm? Hell, if you’re not going to try, why not trade Mathers? What does a bottom of the League team need with a captain anyway?”

  Sophie’s chest squeezes tight. No. Before she can formulate a more coherent thought, Coach blows his whistle, and they skate again.

  “Fucking fuck!” Merlin shouts once they’re in the locker room. He throws his helmet at his stall and it makes a loud sound before it drops to the floor. He rips off his chest protector and throws it too.

  Theo and Kevlar sit side by side, turned to each other, whispering quietly. Nelson drops into his stall, head in his hands. Garfield sits next to him, their shoulders touching in a silent show of support.

  Sophie takes an extra-long shower. This is their team, the one she wants to keep this year and next year. They need to play well enough to keep everyone at the trade deadline and to keep them through summer signings too.

  After her shower, she rearranges her stall until Matty’s the only one left in the locker room. Most of the guys cleared out right away, ready to be out of the rink after a practice like today, which is a problem for another day. The rink is somewhere they should want to be. They should have to be thrown out by the coaches they stay so long.

  Today, she approaches her captain, her bag slung over her shoulder. “I’ll walk out with you.”

  He looks over at her, surprised he isn’t the only one here. His shoulders slump before he can catch it, but he musters up a smile for her. “We’re going to be okay.”

  “I don’t need a pep talk. Coach Butler told me exactly what I needed to hear. We aren’t losing you. You’re our captain. We’ll play better so we buy at the deadline. You’re going to lead Concord to their first playoff appearance in franchise history.”

  She’s giving a pep talk, but somehow Matty looks even more defeated. He shakes his head but she keeps going. “You’re ours and we’re making the playoffs this year. Come on, we’re getting takeout and bringing it to X’s.”

  She refuses to lose anyone this season. They’re keeping Lindy, the longest tenured goalie in Concord’s history, and Matty, their captain, and X, who has been with Concord since the beginning. Garfield and Nelson will stay a unit and Theo and Kevlar are staying a pairing. She’s keeping Merlin and Witzer on her wings. This is the team which will make the playoffs for the first time in franchise history.

  All they have to do is win hockey games.

  They drop their game against Detroit. Minei, the center Sophie’s been matched up against all game, scores the OT-winner, but she doesn’t hang her head in the locker room. She won’t let anyone else either.

  “We pushed this one to OT.” She stands up, speaking louder until she has the attention of the whole team. “We got a point out of this one. Next game, we get two.”

  “One shift at a time,” Spitz says.

  “Exactly.”

  Coach Butler comes in to yell at them, but Sophie tunes it out. She knows what she needs to do, and she knows what’s at stake if she doesn’t.

  Atlanta ties the game with seconds left on the clock, and the home crowd falls silent. They’ve seen this show before, and some of them even stand up and leave, not wanting to see their team lose again. More troubling, Sophie’s teammates hang their heads, because this is playing out like Detroit.

  Not tonight. Sophie tightens her grip on her stick. We’re winning this one.

  Coach Butler doesn’t speak to them during the brief intermission, leaving them to Coach Vorgen and Coach Richelieu. Sophie ducks out of their speech about playing with energy and focus and approaches her head coach.

  His clipboard is cracked from how hard he’s gripped it tonight, and he spares her a glance before looking at his numbers again.

  “Put me on Matty’s wing to start overtime. Double shift me when you need to. I can handle it.”

  “You’ve had sixty minutes to do something and you haven’t.”

  This is different. Why won’t you trust me? “I will.”

  “You better. If you’re on the ice for Atlanta’s game-winning goal, you’re on the third line against Boston.”

  “Deal.”

  She rejoins the huddle, intending to stand between her wingers, but Teddy snags her first. He pulls her close and drops his voice to a whisper. “He shouldn’t put the game on you.”

  “You think my shoulders aren’t broad enough?” She flexes but doesn’t even score a smile. “I play my best when I’m challenged, and Coach Butler knows it. We’re winning tonight and going out. The team needs the morale boost.”

  “Sofe—”

  The horn sounds, ending intermission, before Teddy can finish his thought.

  “Mathers, Fournier, and Garfield out for the first faceoff,” Coach Butler says.

  Nelson sits back down on the bench and Wilchinski pats his knee.

  I’m not replacing you. It’s only for overt
ime, I’m doing this so we can keep you. You and Matty and Lindy and everyone.

  Matty wins the faceoff, and they go to work in Atlanta’s zone. Sophie fires a puck at Vanderbilt, but he stops it with his shoulder. The puck drops to the ice, and Freedman sweeps it away, out of danger. Theo cuts off the clearing pass, knocking it down and sliding the puck to Kevlar who takes a shot of his own.

  Freedman goes down on one knee to the block the shot, and the puck ricochets off him and out of play. The first line is given a break as Peets takes the third line over the boards. Sophie has enough time to catch her breath before she takes her usual line out for a shift.

  She plays and plays, sometimes with a shift between hers and sometimes with only the length of a stoppage to catch her breath. Nelson goes out with his line, and Sophie sits at the end of the bench and sucks in some much-needed air. Teddy reaches over to tap her shin with his paddle. She nods at him, unable to speak.

  “Vanderbilt has a weak glove,” Teddy tells her. “A hard, fast shot and it’ll go past him or he’ll bobble it, and you’ll have a good second chance.”

  She nods again.

  The next time she takes the ice it’s with Matty’s line. Her captain looks tired, and she pulls him aside on their way to Atlanta’s zone. “Let me take this faceoff. We can both win them, but you’re the one who can score off them.” She tugs him away from where the Lancers are having a pre-faceoff huddle of their own. “Teddy says Vanderbilt is weak glove side. A quick shot, and he won’t stop it. Me-you-score.”

  “Bang-bang play.” Matty nods and pats her helmet.

  She skates up to the faceoff dot even as Coach Butler shouts something from the bench. She doesn’t hear what it is. She’s locked in now, nothing but her and Freedman and the official holding the puck. She takes one last deep breath and springs into action as soon as the puck is dropped.

  She knocks the puck over to where Matty’s waiting, and he snaps it on net. Vanderbilt shoots his glove up, catching a piece of the puck but not enough, and Matty scores.