His stick entered the fray, and Jackson couldn’t keep pace with both of us on top of him. Given no choice, he could have passed backward, but Andre fielded Baker, and Lincoln moved up to keep guard on the other forward. Well-trained instincts moved him, but he hadn’t prepared to be blockaded. All we needed was a pause. In that moment, we had it.
And then I had the puck.
Ryan blocked Jackson from immediately chasing, and a few feet of space built between us. Their red jerseys flashed. They faded until my mind only saw them as traps to be avoided, and while they were the best team in the region, competing so directly with them gave us no choice but to be good or be destroyed.
Up the side, I charged. Andre raced, slowing only to keep from going offside before he sought t...
Please subscribe to keep reading.