Chapter Text
Left. Left side again. Fake out to the left, and then the skater shoots right. Cait pushes hard with her left leg, propelling herself and pushing the puck with the tip of her right-hand blocker. It flies off somewhere else. More skaters are making their rounds, trying to do something to waste the last few minutes of practice. It’s the team leader’s idea to stand in front of the goal crease to block her vision and keep her sharp. She barely notices him, despite his bulky frame and height. He’s an obstacle, but merely a speck in her vision.
Cait’s right foot leads when she moves to the same side, bouncing a new puck off the right knee pad strapped to her leg. The weight of the gear, after all these years of conditioning and practice, hardly bothers the movement. She re-centers to the middle of the crease as the next and final shooter approaches. The entire team watches. Jayce doesn’t move from in front of her. The shooter comes in hot, full speed. Skating as fast as possible. Then, at the last moment, they hit the brakes. Wind up for a huge shot, and then switch to something short and quick instead. Doesn’t faze Caitlyn. The puck ends its journey inside her glove before she tosses it to the side without a care. Jayce pivots suddenly, trying to shoot one for himself, and Cait swats it away. He laughs.
“Please, Cait, never get injured,” he says. “We would be totally screwed without you.”
Cait takes off her helmet then, watching as it fits in the center of her glove. She shakes her head left and then right, her wet hair whipping everywhere. She tells Jayce, “Let’s not put that in the air.”
“It’s my last year here. Our last season together.”
Cait tries to keep herself from frowning. It proves impossible, and the expression on her face seems to affect Jayce as well. “Don’t remind me. You and Mel, gone forever.”
“And Viktor,” Jayce adds, “cheering from the sidelines pretending he cares about hockey.”
The pair are interrupted when the rest of the team calls them over to the bench. Practice is over. It’s the last of the pre-season before everything starts over again. For some, it will be the last time. Cait is heartbroken further knowing Mel, a core member of their team, is out for most of the season with an ankle injury. They’re in college, but things are mirroring high school; one last chance for everyone to play together before they need to go out into the world and be real adults. Mel has a bright future in politics; Jayce has a bright future in engineering; Viktor has a bright future in science. Cait will remain here, quietly finishing out her degree. There’s no room for a hockey goalie on Piltover’s police force, either. She thinks about how hard it will be to savor this time without her friends. In a way, it feels like her last season as well.
Only one topic matters as the team immediately transitions into a season-oriented mindset: Zaun. The school with a more general spread of students and a lower quality of education. Zaun doesn’t produce many notable careers, just degrees for people who want to work. Cait doesn’t go to that part of town much, or ever, but she’s heard the stories. Heavy police activity there—mostly the rookies who need to prove themselves something worthwhile—and just about every problem mankind has ever known.
But their hockey team is no joke.
Piltover’s head coach hangs back and lets Jayce take over the meeting. Letting him get in his last season as their captain to the fullest experience. Besides, Cait’s mother was always fond of Jayce to begin with.
“I’m surprised Zaun can even afford to stay in the league this long,” a sophomore defenseman says. Cait reserves herself to a corner seat and starts breaking down her mountain of gear. Mel sits with her. Both note their teammate’s ignorance.
Another adds, “You know their gear is traded down every year? Meanwhile Kiramman just designed the best gear set I’ve ever seen in my life.” (Cait looks at Mel, and Mel whispers that Cait has a new admirer.)
“Some things to keep in mind,” Jayce raises his voice, “is Zaun’s hot new winger.” Laughter ensues. “She’s brand new, and—”
“I’m sorry,” another player says, “what is their version of a star?”
That’s when chaos breaks out. Needless jokes about the opposition made from arrogance. Cait continues taking off her gear. There’s no point in arguing with them. Jayce is patient in the chatter, and when it dies down he does his best to scare some logic into those too blind to have it.
“Take my information seriously. We haven’t played Zaun in the scrimmages around town, but other goalies—goalies on par with Cait—have been having issues with her. She’s a star winger and she makes everyone around her play better. It’s not just her. It’s everything she brings to the organization. This isn’t some superhero we’re trying to shoot down with kryptonite; stopping her won’t solve everything. She’s affecting the entire team. If you think we can get by on luck alone, you’re dead wrong. It’s my last year here and I’m opting to take this seriously. You should, too.”
Next, they start showering praise on Cait. Boasting about how they have a star goalie. She’s a wall! She’ll stop everything! Everyone else is there for show! It makes her nervous. These conversations are the perfect formula for disaster. She looks to Jayce for guidance, who shrugs and shakes his head. Mel tells her to focus on goal. Do her best with her job. What happens on the ice will happen on the ice.
Don’t try to be the hero.
-
Not a soul dwells in the locker room tonight. Everyone is on the ice already. Practicing, studying, trying to decide how tonight will go. Cait finds herself stuck in the locker room, staring at the gear she designed for this season. The puck-stopping pads she ties to her legs are dyed dark blue everywhere save for the middle of each pad, where a blank white space creates a stripe that resembles lightning. Jayce said something years ago about her reaction time; she’s fast, lightning fast. A golden brown surrounds the strike to emphasize it. Her glove is a similar shade of dark blue with more hints of pale white in the center of the glove. The blocker on her right hand as well as the stick invert the patterns, blaring white with hints of blue down the middle of the blocker. The stick is white with dark blue tape. It’s all so shiny and new. There’s an entire season ahead of her. Another season of making sure her team succeeds.
“Where have you been all morning?” The head coach, who also happens to be her mother, stands to her side. Peering down on her, failing to help Cait’s anxiety. “We were supposed to have a private session on the ice this morning. You failed to show up.”
Cait doesn’t turn. She opts to continue staring at the gear instead. “I went shooting instead.”
Her mother sighs, “You hardly need any practice in that realm.”
“I wasn’t doing it to practice.”
“Why are you so nervous, Caitlyn? This is unlike you.”
This makes Cait laugh. “I’m always nervous, I’m just very skilled at hiding it. I don’t want my team to have a bad season. No one is taking the Zaun winger seriously. They want me to solve all their issues for them.”
“Caitlyn, you can only control what you control. Your team needs you to be present in the net, and present in the moment. Don’t worry about another player’s reputation. I need you to worry about yours. If you start worrying about all these things out of your control, you are going to fall into the hole you’re trying to avoid.”
Cait nods.
“Get dressed. There’s time for warm-ups and watching the other team. I need you to watch the new player if you’re worried about it. Come on, get up.”
For the first time in her career on the ice, Caitlyn considers hedging her warm-up routine in favor of sitting on the bench. On Piltover’s side of the ice, in full gear, Cait places herself into a frog pose in front of the goal crease. She slowly dives forward onto her elbow, extending each leg diagonally behind her. Both elbows and knees push into the ice. After a moment held here, she extends her torso upwards and stretches the flexors of her hips and groin. Her core braces and she takes a deep breath in, holds, and breathes it all out. Eyes closed. The noises of sticks whacking against rubber pucks disappears for a moment in time, as does the scraping of skate blades against the ice. Cait’s eyes open and she starts twisting at the hips; the left elbow comes forward and touches the right knee, and then the right elbow comes forward and touches the left knee. Crossing her torso each time. When the set is finished she stands up, skates meeting the ground as the others around her, and reaches down to touch her toes. Long hold. She goes through her upper body routine next, warming up the muscles with dynamic stretches.
Jayce waits on the bench, staring at Cait. She nods over to him and he grabs a couple skaters for the ice. She breaks into stance on the ice, dropping the knees low and keeping her glove hand at shoulder level. She starts in the left corner, pivoting around every inch of the crease. Then her teammates start shooting. She catches a shot on the left. Drops the puck. Slides to the right corner and stops a low shot from Jayce. Resets to the center and knocks the next one away with her stick. Her mountain of gear forces the pucks to bounce off, even when Jayce shoots a fast one in her direction; it hits the team logo on her chest and disappears on the ice.
Sea Serpents. Cait was afraid the blue patterns on her gear this year were going to much contrast against her team logo, but the light and dark tones of blue seem to complement each other. Piltover’s logo resembles the shape of the mythological creature. Purple sweaters, light blue sea creature wrapped in the shape of a scaly circle with mighty fins. The border of their logo is ocean blue before it turns into a bright yellow. On her jersey, the serpent faces left. On Cait’s helmet, she faced the creature right. She’s the goalie—she covers what the team doesn’t see.
From the player bench, Cait stares at her helmet. Black and gray shading compares against the teal scales of the monster. It rises from wild waters and sneers to the right, teeth bared and eyes open. All-seeing. Yellow fins descend against the border of the helmet, incomplete to emphasize the size of the creature. She’s considered having a second helmet commissioned with the monster’s eyes on the top, as if it were the helmet itself. Either way, the choice for eye color was a scarlet red. Something stern and abrasive.
From the player bench, Cait sees gloved hands start touching the top of the helmet. It’s the first time this season the tradition goes in effect: touching the Piltover goalie’s helmet before the game, particularly their starter, blesses them for the game. Scientifically. Otherwise they’d lose horribly and have to shut this whole thing down. Cait finds she’s in a good spot to watch the new winger. Typically the Zaun Wolves gain more players every year, given the school’s notable dropout rate. Possibly a factor contributing to Piltover’s inability to take their rival seriously at the moment.
The goalie, for one, is someone Cait has never seen before. Though, with the helmet over his face it’s hard to make out any details, and she finds herself more distracted when she realizes he doesn’t have the usual plain black helmet on. He’s brought his own, with its own personal design: a white owl, flying with its wings spread across the length of the helmet.
On the flip side, it’s extraordinarily easy to point out the new winger. She skates around without her helmet, as does a long-haired person she keeps interacting with. Pink hair, parted to the right. The left side of her hair is shaved to stubble, and she’s brave enough to leave all her face piercings in. ears, too. Cait notes the tattoo starts at her neck and goes down underneath the sweater. The other player sports long blue braids and tracks the winger’s every movement. They’re a tandem. Defense should work on separating them. They both pass with speed and aggression, never becoming undone in their unity. The winger is left-handed, Caitlyn notes, and tricks her own goalie easily. Her hands are devilishly fast. She’s showy without trying, with the skills to back up the glittering lights and the shiny style. The expression on her face is serious. Mean mug; she looks intimidating.
They all do. Meanwhile Piltover’s sitting on the bench messing around.
“What’s the wing’s name?” Cait asks. Mel is sat next to her, watching the same direction as everyone else. Zaun’s black jerseys have only their fanged red wolf logo on the front and red numbers on the back. With turnover every year, there’s no point in getting personalized jerseys. Cait knows the players are invited to get their own, but she’s yet to see a player do so. The goalie’s helmet is the newest thing she’s ever seen.
Mel, who functions as Piltover’s star winger, starts pointing out players. She knows Cait is waiting for the tandem pair, so she saves them for last. Cait barely pays attention. Those two are the only two she’ll be worrying about. “The pink hair—the right wing that’s pulling your hair out—is Violet. ‘Vi’. Number six. I’m sure you’ve noticed, but she works closely with number ninety-nine. That’s her sister. They call her ‘Jinx’. I’ve already warned the others to keep those two as separate as possible. If you see them coming, Vi seems to prefer the right corner of the net. I can’t tell if that’s her preference always, or if it’s because Zaun’s goalie doesn’t protect that corner well. Either way, I’ve warned the others. Caitlyn, Zaun is an excellent team, but I can’t remember the last time they functioned as one unit. I think they’re going to have a good year if we don’t take this seriously.”
Cait’s heart starts pounding.
“I also want you to look out for the defenseman. The big one, there. She’s an older player, Sevika. She’s extremely aggressive. If she gets near your I imagine she won’t take no for an answer.”
“Cover the puck if she’s near?”
“Cover it. Be very careful with your rebounds. I know this is a lot, Cait, but don’t let it rattle you. Let the team function as a team. Any mistakes made tonight aren’t yours. We don’t know what we’re up against yet. Tonight, focus on learning. It’s the first night.”
Cait nods. Only a few more minutes before the game starts. She gets one big swing of water, and then starts shaking out her limbs. Trying her best to stay loose. Her teammates start getting their gear together and hushing up conversation. Jayce crosses over to talk with Mel, which gives Cait space to push past the other players and put her helmet back on. Her mother stops her before she can get on the ice.
“Remember, Caitlyn: everyone is watching. This is the first game of the season, and it’s against our historic rival. Mel cannot play; everyone is looking to you on and off the ice. I wish you’d showed up this morning. Watch the new player. Don’t make saves you wouldn’t normally make. You are the skeleton of this team—don’t let them down.”
She swears her heart stops. There’s hesitation to her step before she enters the ice, slowly going to the crease she normally feels comfortable in. Now it feels like the blue paint is taunting her, calling her to be sentenced for death for the duration of this game. Her stomach starts to drop. Cait’s never been this nervous for a game before. She doesn’t think Piltover has ever faced a legitimate threat before and wonders why this is happening now.
“Hey.” Jayce stands between her and the crease. “Your mother is strict. Just take it easy. Do what works for you. The entire game and the entire season don’t sit on your shoulders, Cait. Besides, it’s our last year together. If we’re not having fun, what’s the point?”
The words help more than she thought possible. Cait nods, and the pair bump their gloves together before going to each of their positions. She throws her helmet on and touches her elbows to her knees, unloading the spine and stretching once more. When the audience sees her enter the crease, they start to go wild. Totally sweet of them. Totally terrifying to the nerves. She can’t stand the thought of disappointing every voice who cheers. Cait looks back at the player bench, at her mother, and then back to center ice. The two teams are lining up for their face-off. The game is about to start.
When the game starts, it’s explosive.
Fighting for the puck possession is immediate; Jayce paws for the puck desperately, meanwhile Jinx tries to swat his stick away. She doesn’t care about the puck, because her sister is grabbing it and sneaking across the ice. Vi is fast. She’s an unmissable threat that trips up the Piltover defense. Cait sees the logo of the Sea Serpents exploding after her as she rushes down the ice and squares up when the pink hair tucked underneath a black helmet starts racing in her direction. A stick pokes for the puck and Vi aggressively shoves the Piltover defenseman aside. She doesn’t lose a single step. She makes the first shot of the game and Cait quickly stamps the attempt out with her blocker. Right corner. Mel was right.
On the ice, the Zaun defense doesn’t let up. They barely let Piltover breathe. Piltover starts turning pucks over the likes of which Cait has never seen on this team. It’s like they’ve forgotten how to play. Jayce is vocal on the ice, barking orders at skaters in a way he never does. It’s absolute chaos. Whenever Piltover gets a chance to do something, either Vi or the huge defenseman Sevika is present. They’re aggressive in a way that is outright impressive. Cait almost wants to leave the crease and help her team as they struggle to shoot on the other goalie. He barely needs to participate before Zaun turns the puck over yet again. Vi passes to Jinx, and Jinx darts down the ice.
Somehow, Jinx is even faster than her sister. She practically hops back and forth on the ice, bobbing and weaving past Piltover defense, scoring on Cait before Cait can even think to drop down and close the space between her knees. She stares at the back of the net to be sure a puck really snuck in there. There’s no way it’s real. The first goal of the season goes to Zaun, and Zaun celebrates accordingly. Cait tries to shake it off. The period is almost over when the second shot comes her way. Jinx and Vi, passing the puck back and forth down the ice. Jayce tries to interfere, and just like that Jinx is off. Piltover defense lets her sneak another one in when Cait is blocked. Sevika intentionally places herself in the way, allowing Jinx to sink one into the top left corner. It flies right past Cait and she feels stupid as she helplessly watches it bounce against the net behind her. The period ends, and she feels like snapping her stick over the crossbar. One defenseman does snap his stick before returning to the bench.
Jayce is the first to say, “I told you to take them seriously. I’ve never seen Zaun play like this before.”
“It’s like I said before,” Mel chimes. “Separate the sisters. They know Jinx is fast. They keep setting her up to score on Cait.”
Someone complains, “We’re doing everything we can. Cait should have had that last one.”
Caitlyn doesn’t let that slip. “How was I expected to block something I couldn’t see? One goal is fine. Two is where I draw the line. You’re all getting rattled. So the team is better this year—who cares? You’re letting the sisters slip between you. You need to stay right on top of them. I can’t stop everything in the world—I need your help. It’s the first game of the season, but it’s not your first game of hockey. Start paying attention or we might as well head home early.”
She finds herself angry when she returns to the ice for the next period. Forty more minutes of gameplay. That’s how long they have left to catch up. And survive.
In period two, Piltover’s defense looks better. They’re matching Sevika’s aggression with their own bared teeth, unafraid and bold. It’s the first step. Jinx still sneaks past them, and every time she gets near the crease Cait’s heart starts going crazy. It’s difficult to anticipate what it is the shooter is going to do, so she elects to be patient. Cait waits until the last second, catching the puck when Jinx changes direction and shoots it to the opposite side. A much-needed stoppage follows the catch, and Cait takes a huge breather before the next face-off happens right next to her in the defensive zone. Vi gets the puck and immediately shoots it towards the goal, which Cait kicks to the left. A Piltover player takes the puck and runs to the opposite end with it. Quickly they rush the zone, tracking the opposing goalie as he follows the puck with laser vision. Mel’s replacement, a player temporarily promoted to the first line left wing, gets the puck in the right corner. The goalie, whom Cait recalls is named Ekko, angrily grabs for his water bottle and squeezes a drink into his mouth. She notices Vi skate over to comfort him, before waiting at center ice for the next face-off. Piltover is on the board now.
This one goal reignites the fire underneath the Sea Serpents. The game gets more serious, and more hands get on the puck. A long few minutes are spent in the offensive zone, where it seems like everyone gets a chance to shoot on goal. They work Ekko until Sevika bashes into a shooter, freeing the puck. It gets into Vi’s possession, and without a signal or a word she and her sister start rushing down the ice. They’re nowhere close, but Cait squares up. Jinx is right there, but Vi doesn’t pass. She’s in the clear for a shot she puts a lot of hope into—a shot that Caitlyn stops with her glove. Off the face-off, Jinx tries scoring but fails. Second period is almost over, but there’s still another twenty minutes left after this. They just need to survive the rest of the time. Vi and Jinx spend a lot of time in Cait’s space every chance they get, trying to chip away at the net. Jinx comes close just once, and Cait is lucky enough to hear the puck bouncing off the crossbar. The two come off the ice to trade shifts with other players and Cait notices them planning strategy from the bench, frequently pointing in her direction. Zaun makes a shot on goal and the sisters look like they’re taking detailed notes.
The break between the second and third period is a blur. Everyone is anxious to get back on the ice and finish this. They’re so close. Twenty minutes to wrap this difficult game up and sleep like rocks. The team discusses strategy, but Cait doesn’t pay attention. Vi and Jinx are going to try something. She can feel it. At this point, she’s not sure which of the two is more threatening to Piltover’s victory tonight.
Surprisingly, the sisters hang back for the first few minutes of the third period. They’re watching Cait’s reactions to others’ shot attempts. Planning how to approach in the future. Jayce has his teammates work at the weak right corner Ekko presents with, but now the opposing goaltender seems hyper aware of the spot. It’s useless now. Vi tries the same spot on Cait just once, with no luck. The clock starts creeping up on them and Vi becomes more aggressive with stealing shot attempts from her teammates, who willingly pass the puck over. Repeatedly she tries and tries again, and repeatedly Cait blocks the shots. It’s almost like they’re silently playing a game of their own between one another, in a quiet new rivalry.
Cait feels exhilarated by it.
One rebound passes the puck directly to Cait’s team. Jayce storms the offensive zone with both wingers, furiously passing between each other until they reach a reasonable shooting distance. The puck lands in his possession again, and he fakes out a pass to a winger before shooting on goal and scoring right underneath the space between Ekko’s elbow and ribs. Tied game. Not a lot of time left to remove the possibility of an extra period. Cait hates overtime. Yet, it’s where they end up. What’s worse: no one scores during the allotted time and the game is forced into something slightly more terrifying. A shootout.
“I hate that we’ve come to this point,” Cait tells her teammates. “It’s the first game of the season and everyone is afraid of Zaun. Honestly, I’m ashamed of the defense I saw tonight.”
“It’s really hard without Mel,” the second line winger says. Cait has no sympathy.
“Don’t pass the blame. You’re on the ice, and you have a job to do. As do I. Next time needs to be better. So much better.”
“We owe Cait a couple goals in this shootout,” Jayce says. “Their goalie is aware we’ve found his weakness. Don’t exploit it. Fake him out, see what he does.”
“Aim low,” Cassandra says. “Be subtle about it. It catches him off guard, like he needs to think about it.”
With each skater, Cait’s heart starts racing. She hates the way shootouts make her stomach plunge. They’re fun in practice, and they’re fun when she’s goofing around with her teammates, but at the end of a real game they’re horrible. They’re the worst thing ever invented. Tonight especially. Of everything that went wrong tonight, she should’ve known a shootout was next. Each team stays even with each shooter, and with each shooter Caitlyn wonders when her luck is going to run out. Jinx has her turn, and Cait becomes so focused and opens her eyes so wide she fears she might burst a vein. Jinx flicks the puck up at the last moment of her shot, and Cait squares herself out at the same time. She makes herself big enough to catch the puck with the top of her shoulder and bounces it away. Jinx swears and goes back to her bench. From behind her caged helmet, she glares at Cait. It’s probably for the best there’s a cage separating the two of them.
Jayce is on for the next round. So far, the team has tried low, the right corner, and surprising Ekko with sudden changes in speed. Jayce decides to go for the element of surprise as well. He skates down the line at top speed, gearing up for a huge slapshot. At the last second, while cranking his stick all the way in the air, not losing speed, he copies Jinx and quickly jabs his stick at the puck. Piltover gets their first goal of the shootout. The next person needs to miss, and they’ll win.
Pink hair appears on center ice, staring down Cait and Cait’s prize behind her. If Vi makes it, Zaun stays alive for another round. If she misses, they can all pack it up and go home. That’s when Cait realizes there is one real advantage to shootouts: the entire game is in her hands. It should scare her, but she feels energized now. No low-quality defense is going to drag her down. This is entirely up to her.
Vi holds a moment to assess her options before she takes off. Cait is shocked to see she doesn’t copy her sister or Jayce and remains at a regular pace. The stick passes the puck back and forth, as if she’s unsure. It comes to the final distance between the two, close range, when she tries to sink one low. Cait pokes out her stick to push the puck away. The puck is hit—as well as Vi.
Somewhere along the line, Cait’s stick accidentally entangles with Vi’s skate. The rest is unclear.
One moment Vi is tripping and falling face-first into the ground, the next her gloves are coming off. Cait never fights. Ever. But some cosmic force undoes her gloves and her helmet, and the two are rushing for one another. The players from both teams storm from their benches towards the home goal as Vi throws the first punch. Cait doesn’t know what to do with herself. ( Has she ever gotten into a fight before?)
She stares at the VI inked in her opponent’s face, and then what she believes to be the angriest face she’s ever seen. Then she realizes the punch is coming at her and pops her shoulder upward. Vi’s fist lands against the shoulder armor guarding Cait from the outside world, and in one reflex Cait’s arm lunges forward. That’s what she sees in fights, right? A communication between both parties? One throws a punch and the other does the same? She lands a good hit against Vi, pressing her knuckle into her opponent’s cheek, and when Vi’s fist comes flying to punch her lights out the refs grab them both and force them to skate off. Zaun’s players have tossed their gear all over the ice. Piltover was preparing to do the same. Even the goalie, all the way across the rink, has ripped his helmet off his head and waits. Cait notes the white face paint he’s smeared across his face, a shade which matches the dreads in the formation of a mohawk on his head, drenched with the same level of sweat drenching Cait.
She looks back on the opposing bench and finds Vi. Vi, who winks and says, “Can’t wait for the next game, sweetheart!”
Cait storms off for the locker room. She doesn’t stop for anyone and doesn’t plan on stopping anywhere. Gear comes off. Gear gets stuffed into locker. She reeks of frustrated goaltending and disappointment, and she knows she’ll have nothing to contribute at the post-game team meeting. It won’t be about the game, anyway. It’ll be about the show she accidentally put on. A show she couldn’t resist getting roped into. A weird, abnormal, out of character, split second decision that the universe was begging and compelling her to do.
What a weird night.
No one really says anything. Cait thinks they’re confused. She is. What the hell just happened? Her parents, of course, are here to remind her of everything that happened and how stupid she was to participate in a fight against a Zaun player. Her mother questions the poke check and Cait defends herself in that aspect. The fight she finds she can’t. It’s not something she normally does. It’s not something she’d ever do.
But there was something about getting into a fight with Vi . . .
Vi, her new rival. Vi, whom Cait knows is about to move into her mind and steal all her attention.
Cait spends the rest of the night alone in her room, headphones in each ear. She has no interest in answering the sudden, delayed influx of text messages from her teammates, and she has less interest in answering her door when her head coach comes knocking against the fine finished wood. She thinks about Vi, once, and then tries to turn over and go to sleep.
She runs it over once more in her head. The image of Zaun’s star player, throwing her gloves off without hesitation. Storming over to the goal crease without a word. The first punch thrown. (Did Cait actually punch someone tonight?) The exhilarating look on Vi’s face when Cait returned the punch, and the surprised look on her face when it landed. The adrenaline rushing through Cait’s veins; the buzz between her ears; feeling herself elevate out of her own skates and into a new realm.
The wink Vi shot Cait.
Sweetheart . . . okay.
She had the audacity to wink at Cait after all that, and Cait can’t get the image out of her mind. Annoyed, she tosses and turns for hours before finally she’s blessed with the ability to pass out cold for the night. And then, tomorrow, she’ll think of the interaction at least eight more times before stuffing her brain with things to do.