Seven

Zora

The rink was alive with the kind of energy that made your skin hum. The crowd roared as the announcer called our names, the ice gleaming under the harsh lights like an unforgiving stage. My heart pounded as I heard my name called, replacing Reya's. Right-wing. Starting line. This was it.

I'd worked for this, clawed my way through drills, practices, and endless hours of conditioning. Reya had left the door open, and I'd walked right through. She'd benched herself with her grades, and I wasn't about to feel guilty about taking the spot she couldn't hold onto. She might have been the star last season, but it was my turn tonight.

"Okay, team we're playing Madison College today," Coach started during our huddle. "We know how they can be. They're brutal and came to play a hard game. We can win this. Everyone is in their usual positions except Zora, who is right-wing instead of Reya."

Reya looked down as glanced turned my direction and then hers.

"Let's play a game we can be proud of, " Coach said, finishing his speech.

"I know I'm not out there tonight," Reya spoke up, "but we are a good team. We can beat them. Now let's get out there and win! Catamounts on three. One, two three..."

"Catamounts!" The team cheered.

The starting lineup took their positions. Stevie was at center, her stick tapping the ice, ready for the face-off. The Madison center smirked and muttered something under her breath, but Stevie didn't flinch.

The ref dropped the puck.

Stevie won the face-off, snapping the puck back to our defense. The game started fast. A little too fast and we were not prepared. Madison came at us like a freight train, throwing hits and jamming up passing lanes. They were playing dirty, and within minutes I'd been slammed into the boards so hard my shoulder burned. I shook it off, but not in time to notice that Madison was going to score the first goal within the first five minutes.

1-0.

"Damn it," I cursed under my breath. This wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

Coach called a timeout.

"What the hell was that?" Coach said as he tried not to lose his temper.

"It's okay," Reya said, stepping in. "They may have scored within the first five minutes, but you guys got this. Now you know how they play and what to expect. Let's use that to our advantage."

"Reya's right. Let's not lose our minds yet. You now know their defense plays dirty so you know what to look out for," Coach chimed in although he just reiterated what Reya said.

By the end of the first period, we were still down 1-0. After the first goal, we played dirty too. Which means we didn't score but Madison didn't either and I'll take it.

The first period officially ended and Coach called another timeout.

"They're getting the better of us because we're letting them. Stop hesitating. Move the puck faster. If you give them an inch, they'll take a mile." Coach said to the team and then his eyes landed on me. "Zora, you've got speed. Use it. I don't need you trying to outmuscle their defense. Instead, I need you to fly past them before they can react. Catch them off guard so they won't be able to recover quickly enough. That gives you an opening, and you damn sure better take it. Understood?"

I nodded, gripping my stick tighter. "Yes, Coach."

We adjusted and instead of trying to match Madison's brutal force, we used our speed, just like Coach said. Clean passes. Quick transitions. Short shifts to keep our legs fresh.

Halfway through the period, Madison scored again. 2-0. What the fuck? How did that even happen?

Stevie slammed her stick against the boards in frustration. I clenched my jaw. Genevieve's glance shifted to Reya and I followed it. Reya's expression was unreadable. I wondered if she was thinking that if she was playing we would be winning. No, Zora, snap out of it. Who cares what Reya is thinking. Tonight this is your game, not hers.

A turnover in the neutral zone sent the puck bouncing toward Stevie. She snagged it and darted into their zone, cutting past a defender before snapping a perfect shot into the top corner.

"Yes!" I cheered as the team gathered around Stevie for a brief celebration. Finally, we got one.

2-1.

The team's momentum shifted.

Minutes later, I saw my chance. A breakout play sent the puck my way. I exploded down the right side, my skates carving deep into the ice. A Madison defender lunged at me, but I shifted left, dropping my shoulder just enough to throw her off before cutting back outside.

Genevieve was streaking toward the net, calling for it.

I threaded a pass through two defenders, landing it perfectly on her stick.

She didn't miss.

2-2. Tied.

The red light flashed, the crowd erupted, and Genevieve's grin was wide as she skated toward me. We knocked gloves, although I didn't celebrate for long. There was still work to do.

The third period hit and we were in the homestretch. Every battle along the boards was brutal, every shift heavier. Madison scored with ten minutes left.

3-2. Shit.

With six minutes left, Stevie scored again.

3-3. Tied again.

Tension crackled through the arena. One mistake could end it all. I kept watching the clock as the minutes ticked down.

With two minutes left, the puck came loose in the neutral zone. Instinct took over. This was my chance.

I jumped on it, powering forward. My legs burned, and my lungs screamed, but I kept pushing. A Madison defender lunged and was fortunately too slow. I toe-dragged around her, my stick barely brushing the ice.

The goalie readied herself. She knew what was coming.

I faked once.

Then flicked the puck high.

It sailed past her and into the back of the net. Bingo.

For a second, everything was silent.

Then the crowd exploded and I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

The bench erupted. Stevie tackled me into a hug, and our teammates piled on.

The final buzzer sounded.

We'd won.

And I scored the game-winner. Yet I didn't feel as happy as I should have. Relieved? Yes. Happy? Not exactly. Something about tonight was missing.

My parents.

As I skated to the bench, I caught Reya watching me as she stood. She wasn't smiling, but there was something in her expression I couldn't quite place. Respect, maybe? Or maybe something else entirely? I wasn't sure.

But for tonight, I didn't need to know.

Tonight, I'd proven I belonged and I considered that the biggest win of the night.

After the game, the team headed to the locker room, but I needed a minute. I found my way outside and the cool air hit me like a brick, but it didn't phase me compared to how I was feeling on the inside.

My mindset changed and my chest felt tight– not from the game, but from the weight of everything I tried to keep buried. I should've felt amazing—ecstatic, even. I'd scored the game-winner, solidified my spot on the team, and silenced any doubts about whether I belonged here. But all I could think about was how my parents weren't here to see it. They would've been in the stands, cheering louder than anyone else.

They'd been gone for months, but it still felt raw. Their accident over the summer had torn my world apart, and moments like this—moments they would've been proud of—brought me back to the day all over again.

The sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts.

"Didn't think I'd find you out here crying after winning," a familiar voice said.

I looked up to see Reya standing a few feet away, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. She wasn't smirking like usual, though. Her face was soft and maybe even curious.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice thick as I attempted to wipe my tears.

"I just... saw you leave," she said, hesitating. "And I get it, okay? I know it's hard for you to enjoy this when—"

"Don't," I snapped, my voice sharp. "I don't need your pity."

Reya stayed quiet for a moment before stepping closer. "I'm not here to pity you, Zora. I just... I know what it's like to lose someone. And I know it doesn't go away, no matter how much you try to ignore it."

I turned to her, the anger in my chest flaring. "You don't know what it's like for me."

"I know enough," she said, her tone calm but firm. "I know they'd be proud of you tonight."

Ouch. Her words cut through my defenses, and I hated how much I wanted to believe her. It took everything in me not to cry again right there, because I too think they would've been proud. They always were.

"I scored the game-winner," I said, my voice trembling. "And all I could think about was how they're not here to see it. It's like... no matter what I do, it's never enough to fill the hole they left."

Reya leaned against the wall next to me, her presence steady. "That hole doesn't go away and nothing will ever be able to fill it. But that doesn't mean that what you did tonight wasn't incredible."

I glanced at her, surprised. Is Reya actually being nice to me right now? "You're being unusually nice."

She smirked faintly. "Don't get used to it. I'm still mad you took my spot."

I huffed a laugh, wiping at my face. "Well, maybe if you weren't failing calculus, you'd still have it."

Reya shrugged, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Fair enough. Guess I'll just have to fight my way back."

For the first time all night, the tightness in my chest eased. In this moment I realized Reya isn't always insufferable and that she did in fact have a soft spot in that cold heart of hers.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

Reya smiled, and for once, it didn't feel like she was teasing me. "Anytime, Zora. Just don't think this means I'm going easy on you."

I laughed, the sound soft and foreign in the cool night air."I wouldn't expect anything less."

"We probably missed Coach's speech, but Genevieve's throwing that party at our house," Reya said as we walked to her car. "Want a ride?"

I hesitated but then nodded. A party sounded like exactly what I needed. Reya grabbed my hockey bag without a word, and we headed to her car.

Reya opened the trunk of her car, tossing both of our hockey bags in with ease. "Don't get me wrong—I'm still a little pissed," she said, leaning against the car for a moment. "But even I can admit it was a great goal."

"High praise," I teased as I climbed into the passenger seat.

Reya started the car, the engine rumbling to life as she pulled out of the lot. For a while, we didn't say much. The city lights blurred past us, and the faint sound of music from her radio filled the quietness.

It wasn't awkward, though. If anything, it felt like we were both waiting for the other to break the silence.

Finally, I turned to her. "You don't think I deserve the spot, do you?"

Reya glanced at me, her lips pressing into a thin line. "It's not that," she said after a pause as she turned her gaze back towards the road. "You're good. I've always thought you were good. I just... I hate that I screwed up and gave it to you. I hate that it's my fault."

Her voice was quieter than I expected, and for a moment, I didn't know what to say. Reya didn't seem like the one to admit weakness—or anything close to it.

And wait a minute... Did Reya just admit that she thought I was good at hockey? The thought made me smile on the inside, but I kept it hidden on the outside.

"I guess that's fair," I admitted. "But I have to admit, I wasn't trying to take anything from you. I just wanted to prove I could do it."

She nodded, her hands gripping the wheel a little tighter. "I get it. You did great tonight. But it's hard not to think about what my dad would've said if he'd been there."

The shift in her tone caught me off guard. "Your dad?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, her voice heavy. "He never misses a chance to remind me when I mess up. Always says I'm wasting my potential, that I'm not working hard enough. If he'd been at the game tonight, all he'd see is me sitting on the bench while you took my spot. That's all he'd care about."

I swallowed, unsure how to respond. Reya had always seemed so untouchable like nothing could phase her. Hearing this... it made her feel human.

"That's rough," I said softly. "But it's not your fault, Reya. You're not failing calculus because you're lazy—you've got a lot on your plate. You'll get through it."

She laughed bitterly. "Thanks, Dr. Phil."

"I'm serious," I said. "You're still one of the best players on this team. And yeah, I'm in your spot right now, but that doesn't mean you're not still part of this team. You'll fight your way back. I know you will. I belong on this team and so do you."

Reya didn't say anything for a long time, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. Then, finally, she spoke.

"Thanks, Zora," she said quietly. "That... actually means a lot."

I nodded, the heaviness in my chest easing a little more. I know with my help Reya's calculus grade will improve and that we will eventually fight for right-wing, but I wasn't going to let myself dwell on that. I finally had a breakthrough with Reya and I'm going to allow myself to be happy with that for the time being. "For what it's worth, I think your dad's wrong. You're not wasting your potential. You're just figuring it out, like everyone else."

Reya's lips twitched into a small, almost shy smile. "Don't let this go to your head, but you're not as bad as I thought you were."

"Wow," I said, pretending to be offended. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

She laughed, the sound was genuine this time, and I couldn't help but smile.

"You're not as bad as I thought you were either," I said, turning my gaze to the window, but I could still feel her eyes on me.

As we pulled up to the house the tension that had been sitting between us since the game seemed to fade.

"Ready to celebrate your big win?" Reya asked, her smirk returning.

I grinned, unbuckling my seatbelt. "Let's go."

For once, it felt like we weren't rivals, but two teammates trying to navigate the chaos of hockey, life, and everything in between.