Breakaway Read online

  “Hey, Number 16,” I say, taking a chance. “That was heads-up, even if you didn’t get a shot away.”

  Her head swivels in my direction, and for a second I think she’s going to swear at me too. Then she nods in acknowledgment and turns her eyes back to the ice.

  “That’s my baby sister,” I tell one of the defenceman.

  “So you keep telling us,” the girl replies.

  –

  On Friday after school my mom drives me to Saskatoon for our double-header with the Stars.

  Miranda gets the nod for our Saturday afternoon game, and she plays decent, but we’re no match for Saskatoon’s two top lines. She gives up five goals on thirty-three shots. Whitney manages to score late in the third, so at least there’s no goose egg.

  When I come out of the dressing room, Holly’s leaning on a set of crutches, talking to my mom and Kathy.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Damn ankle sprain,” Holly says. “It keeps coming back to haunt me. We’ve got a tournament out East at New Year’s, and I want to be healthy enough to go.”

  “Well, it’s nice of you to come watch us,” I tell her. “You’re going to Mark’s game tonight, right?”

  Tonight, on the other side of the city, the Calgary Hitmen will be playing the Blades, and I won’t be able to go.

  Why should you, my little voice asks. It only lasted a few months, and it’s been over for two years. You don’t even know him anymore, and he doesn’t know you.

  Holly nods. “Are you coming? I know there’s some news Mark would like to share with you.”

  “I can’t. Bud’s arranged for us to watch the U of S women’s game tonight from a luxury box.”

  Bud told us, just before our game. He was so pleased I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d rather be at the Blades game.

  Sometimes it bites to be captain.

  “How’s Mark’s dad doing?” Mom asks Holly.

  She fills us in on all the details of Mr. Taylor’s treatments. Most of it’s way over my head, but I’m glad to know he’s responding well.

  “That’s great,” I tell her.

  “Okay, since you’re not coming tonight, I’ll share Mark’s news.” Holly beams. “He thinks he’s getting an invite to the World Junior camp in December.”

  I’m having a tough time equating Holly with the girl who, a few months ago, wanted me to talk Mark out of playing Major Junior. “Does he really think he’d make the team?”

  “There’s only three guys returning from last year,” Holly says.

  “Wow.” I think about the ramification of this news. Mark has never been drafted, but not every player makes it to the NHL through the traditional route. The World Junior tournament has launched the careers of many unscouted athletes.

  Holly looks at her phone. “I better go. I want to get in a few hours of studying before the game. What time do you play tomorrow?”

  “Two.”

  “I’ll try to come, but I can’t make any promises,” she says. “I have two midterms and a lab exam next week.” She gives me a quick hug, made awkward by the crutches. “See you!”

  Kathy runs ahead to hold the door open for her while Mom whispers in my ear, “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re finally letting go of him?”

  “I’m trying to.”

  “Good for you,” she says. “Let’s get something to eat.”

  –

  Puck drop is at seven. I spend most of the first period watching the Huskie rookies, gauging their skill level and their ice time. One rookie defenceman is on a power play unit and does some PK.

  Good to know.

  It’s pretty cool watching the game from a luxury box, which has the best view in the rink. No exit signs or posts to block our vision.

  The Huskies are playing their archrivals, the Regina Cougars, which means the stands are nearly full. Apparently in Regina last night, the Huskies won 4–3 in a shoot out.

  “Out of nine shots, five girls hit the post and one hit a crossbar,” Kathy says. “Wish I could have been there to see that.”

  I ask our vets to sit with Rookies who are playing similar positions. “Tell them to watch the little and big things these university players do. We’ll talk about it at our next practice.”

  When I’m not answering Dayna’s questions about defence, I get Larissa to check the Blades game on her iPhone. The score’s been deadlocked 2–2 since the end of the first period. By the time the Huskies have treated the Cougars to a 6–1 drubbing, the WHL game is just beginning the final period of play.

  “Could we go some place like Boston Pizza and watch the Blades’ game?” I ask Mom.

  “I doubt it will be televised,” Mom says.

  “Maybe we can catch the highlights on Global,” Kathy says.

  It takes ages to get everybody organized and headed in the same direction. Then we have to wait for a table when we get to the restaurant.

  “Do you know if the Blades won tonight?” I ask our waiter as soon as we’re seated.

  “Sure did,” he says. “In overtime.”

  Mark won’t be happy about that. I check my phone and see I’ve got voice mail.

  “How come I never heard it ring?” I say out loud.

  “What’s that?” Kathy asks.

  “Nothing.” I punch in my password.

  As soon as I hear Holly’s voice, I know something’s wrong.

  “His knee.” Her voice is breaking.

  At that very moment, Global shows the game highlights. One piece of footage is of a Blades player laying a hit on a Calgary defenceman, just as he is executing a sharp right pivot. They show it over and over again. Forwards. Backwards. Fast motion. Slow motion.

  But every time, two variables remain the same.

  The Calgary defenceman is definitely Mark.

  And that knee is definitely not going to a World Junior camp in December.

  – Chapter Thirty-three –

  It sucks. Totally,” Kathy says in the dressing room before our game on Sunday.

  It took me a long time to get to sleep last night. Every time I drifted off that footage kept replaying in my head. I know next to nothing about the anatomy of a knee, but even I know that’s a season-ending, potentially career-ending injury. It makes me feel sick to think his torn ACL might never hold a pivot again, even after surgery.

  What about Mark’s dad? What about all the hopes and dreams he’s had for his son? How will this setback affect Frank? Sucks isn’t a word that even comes close. I want to call them both, but I have no idea what to say. Mark’s got a good head on his shoulders, I tell myself. He’ll get his engineering degree like he always planned. He’ll move on.

  With Holly, my little voice reminds me.

  I take extra care putting on my equipment. I feel fragile. Any minute something could happen. A girl could give me a little nudge next to the boards and I could end up paralyzed – or worse. The fingers tying my skates are actually trembling.

  Snap out of it, my little voice says. A city bus could have hit you yesterday. Your mom could roll the Explorer on the way home. Tragedy can happen any time. Any place. Would you rather live in a plastic bubble?

  I think about something Jodi said to me after her accident. It would have been my last game – and I didn’t even play it.

  Well, I’m playing today.

  –

  In hockey there are so many variables. Twelve players on the ice at any given moment. Every one of them the key performers in her own little universe.

  Countless variations.

  My boyfriend broke up with me.

  My dad says I suck.

  Why did I have to have my period today?

  Then there’s officiating.

  A call – or a no call – can destroy a team’s momentum in a second.

  Too many variables.

  In our second game against Saskatoon, all the planets roll and lock into perfect alignment. The fickle dei
ties of ice hockey, suspended high above the play in their invisible luxury boxes, pluck the crucial weight from our golden plate and watch us rise.

  Okay, hockey gods be damned.

  Amy has a lot to do with it.

  I have doubts about where I’ll be playing one year from now. But there’s no question about Amy Fox. She is destined for bigger things.

  Then again, there’s nobody like Bud to help put stuff in perspective.

  “Do the math, girls,” Bud says. “Saskatoon scored five power plays goals yesterday. Five on five you beat them one zip. Stay out of the box, execute the PK properly when you don’t, and play like you played yesterday. Show them you belong in this league.”

  We hit the ice running in the first period. We take it to the Stars on our very first shift, crashing the net and tallying four shots before their goalie finally freezes the puck. The momentum of the first line buoys the second. Three minutes pass and the Stars still haven’t moved the puck past their blue line. While we’ve got them tied up, our third line switches in, player by player.

  Totally textbook.

  Sue juggles the D too, throwing Carla and me back out.

  One of the Stars crosschecks Larissa in front of the crease, and the ref raises her arm. Amy races for the bench while Randi barrels into the high slot as the sixth attacker. She hammers her stick, calling for the puck, and I saucer it over to her. Tape to tape.

  She shoots. Low glove side. Buries it.

  You’d think we’d won the Stanley Cup final instead of scoring the first goal against the second ranked team in our league, the team that won the Mac’s last December.

  I’m on Randi’s heels as we sweep by our shrieking bench. Sue nearly clotheslines me, yanking on my jersey and tugging me close. “Line up as a left winger!” she shouts in my ear. “Randi’s lining up on left D. Kathy’s going to win that draw back to Randi. Give and go with Randi and she goes wide!”

  I know Sue well enough not to question why.

  When the linesman drops the puck, Kathy executes perfectly. As Number 10 steps around me to cut Randi off, Randi snaps me the puck, and I flip it back. The Stars right D catches an edge trying to back pedal, and Randi blows by her. We’re three on one. The Stars’ left D flops down to take away the back door pass, but Randi rifles the puck to me.

  I wait. Wait for the goalie to move. Pull the trigger – going five hole.

  Red light.

  I don’t know which makes us happier – the fact we scored again – or the fact we accomplished one of Sue’s plays.

  And Sue, the coach who rarely smiles, is grinning like a lion that’s just swallowed the lion tamer, whip and all.

  Bud squeezes my shoulder as I line up on the bench. “Great job, Cap,” he murmurs in my ear. “No mercy now. Keep your foot on the gas.”

  –

  After a gritty 3–0 win, Randi, Amy and I are named game stars.

  “Bet that hurts,” Randi says as she watches the real Stars file back to their dressing room.

  “We did them a favour,” Amy says. “It isn’t any fun if they win all the time.”

  “Can’t wait to play the Hounds,” Kathy says.

  Carla laughs. “Don’t kid yourself. Notre Dame will chew us up and spit us out.”

  “Maybe they will and maybe they won’t,” Kathy says, pulling out a Bud-ism. “That’s why we play the game.”

  Later in the dressing room, I check my phone. There’s a text from Holly, saying that Mark’s headed back to Calgary for surgery.

  Tell him I feel bad for him, I text back.

  Sure will, she replies.

  I look up to see Whitney staring at me. I bet she hasn’t said a dozen words to me since the Rookie party fiasco. Of course, that’s more than I’ve said to her.

  Maybe you could let her off the hook, my voice says.

  “Good game, Johnstone,” I say. “This afternoon you played both ends of the ice.”

  “Don’t I normally?” she replies coldly.

  “Are you giving your captain the sauce...after she gives you a compliment?” Kathy asks.

  Whitney ducks her head and mumbles something.

  “I thought not,” Kathy says.

  – Chapter Thirty-four –

  “We got an invite to the Mac’s,” Bud announces before practice on Tuesday. We’re gathered around him on the ice.“You’re kidding.” Randi shifts her position so she’s leaning on the opposite knee.

  Kathy is speechless.

  “Sue wanted to give you the news herself, but she got tied up at work. How many of you left the week open between Christmas and New Years?”

  What was I thinking...telling Brittni I’d be a bridesmaid? I shake off my gloves and tighten a skate lace, gathering my thoughts.

  “Only the top four teams in our league get an invite,” Carla says, “and we’re definitely not in the top four. In fact, we’re in sixth place.”

  “Yep,” Bud says.

  “So how come we get to go?” Larissa asks.

  “I’m guessing it’s because Sue knows the right people,” Amy says.

  “That’s right,” Mr. Johnstone says from inside the players’ box, where Bud always tells him to stay until he’s done talking to us. “So hopefully none of you ladies have made plans for Christmas holidays.”

  “I have,” I say.

  Bud looks at me. “What’s up, Jessie?”

  “I’m a bridesmaid at a wedding on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Since when?” Kathy asks, discovering her voice at last.

  “I’ve known about it for a while,” I say.

  “Whose wedding?” Kathy asks.

  I finish tying my lace. “It’s not important.”

  “Whose wedding?” Kathy persists.

  “Brittni Wade.”

  “Brittni Wade!” Randi exclaims, throwing herself on the ice, like she’s passed out from the shock.

  Everyone laughs, even the Rookies, who don’t know Brittni at all.

  “You’re out of your mind, McIntyre! “Kathy says. “Out – of – your – freakin’ – mind!”

  “When did you even see Brittni Wade?” Miranda asks.

  “I told you I saw her when we were at the Rider game last August.” I start working on my other skate. “Can we talk about somebody else’s holiday plans?”

  Randi raises her head from her prone position. “You saw her at a Rider game, and she asked you to be a bridesmaid? Just like that?”

  “It was a while later,” I explain. “She called me.”

  “And you said yes?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did.”

  “Got your bridesmaid’s dress yet?” Kathy asks. “I’ll bet it’s super gaudy.”

  “Then you’d be wrong. We’re supposed to pick out the quintessential little black dress.”

  Everyone stares at me, mouths open.

  “It actually makes a lot of sense,” I tell them. “Very understated.”

  “Well, it looks like Big Mac won’t be going to the Mac’s,” Bud says. “And that’s a disappointment. You can’t get out of this wedding, Jessie?”

  “I can try,” I tell him. “I’d rather go to Calgary, that’s for sure.”

  It turns out Miranda’s the only other one who’ll be away. She’s going to Mexico with her family.

  “That’s too bad, Miranda,” Bud says, keeping his face expressionless. “We’ll miss you in Calgary.”

  “If I’d known we were getting an invite, I wouldn’t be going to Mexico,” Miranda says.

  I feel the same way. Going to Brittni’s wedding doesn’t hold the appeal of going to a major tournament in Calgary, especially since it’ll be my only chance to go.

  “Maybe it’s not too late for Brittni to find someone else to stand up for her,” I say to Kathy.

  “Can I be there when you run it by her?” Kathy asks. “I’d sure like to hear what she says about that.”

  –

  All Wednesday I feel like I’m coming down with something. I duck out a
half hour early from dryland and hardly eat any supper.

  I go to my room and lie down on my bed and stare at my cellphone. Time to bite the bullet. I find Brittni on my contact list.

  She’s not home, but Jamie is.

  “So how are the wedding plans coming?” I ask him.

  “I don’t understand any of it,” Jamie says. “Good thing all I have to do is show up in a white tuxedo.”

  “Are you going on a honeymoon?”

  “We can’t afford it.”

  “Maybe you could go to Vegas,” I suggest. “My parents are going for their twentieth wedding anniversary, and they got a great deal.”

  “Brittni’s not twenty-one yet,” Jamie says. “Maybe next year.” He sounds depressed.

  “Who’s standing up for you?” I ask, trying to cheer him up. What guy doesn’t like talking about his buds?

  “Funny you should ask,” he says. “We were going with five attendants, but now I’ve added Mark, so Brittni has to find another bridesmaid.”

  My heart jumps. Suddenly I don’t feel sick. “Do you mean Mark Taylor?”

  “Yeah. Here’s Brittni now. I’ll get her for you.” Jamie sets down the phone.

  Mark will be all alone, my little voice says. Didn’t Holly say she had a tournament in Ontario at New Year’s? Now what are you going to do?

  I hear Jamie and Brittni talking before she picks up the phone. She sounds angry.

  “Hi Jessie,” she snaps. “I’ve just had a run-in with my florist. Looks like I’ll be finding a new one. What’s up?”

  My desire to back out has evaporated.

  “Um – not much. Just checking on your plans.”

  “Did Jamie tell you about Mark?”

  “Yes.”

  She softens. “Too bad about his knee and everything, but it worked out for Jamie. He wanted Mark to be a part of our big day. He phoned him last night, and Mark said he’d do it, so at least something’s gone right this week. Mark’s pretty bummed out. Have you talked to him lately?”

  “Not since it happened.”

  “He was pleased to know you’re in the wedding party,” Brittni says.

  My heart leaps again. “He was?”

  “You and Mark have some history,” she says. “Want to tell me about it?”

  “That’s all over,” I say quickly. Brittni is definitely not someone I’d confide in. “Tell me about how the plans are coming.”