Overtime (20 page)

Read Overtime Online

Authors: David Skuy

Hilton had his foot on the boards. “Wingers, change ’em up! Change ’em up!”

Sophie and Sandra turned to the bench. Emily looked over and Hilton waved her back. She immediately set off to help on the rush. Michelle raced to get the puck, and wasted no time heading up ice. Julia and Trisha hopped the boards and joined in. A forechecker lunged at Michelle, but she swept past her, gained the line and passed across the zone to Trisha. Trisha cradled the puck, and then lofted a high wrist shot to the opposite corner in Chelsea’s end. The timing was perfect. Julia hit the blue line at full speed and beat the right defender to the puck. It was another beautiful play by his wingers.

“Charlie. Get out there.”

Hilton lifted Charlie off the bench. He had been so busy watching, he had forgotten Cassie was coming off for the extra attacker. Charlie threw himself over the boards and skated hard to get in the play. Julia had continued behind their net and had the puck at the mid-boards, close to the wall. Trisha was wide left, moving slowly towards their net. Charlie figured she would either cut to the net if Julia passed it to her, or go behind it. He slowed to see what she would do.

Trisha took off and at the last second veered around the net. Julia banked the puck off the back wall to her. Charlie put it into high gear and stormed into the slot. Savard tried to pick him up, but he was like a mad bull and there was no way he would be stopped. Trisha saucered the puck and Charlie stepped into it with all his
strength.

All six TFH players banged their sticks on the ice.

The goalie sat with her legs stretched out in front of her, holding the puck on top of her glove to the ref.

Charlie cruised to the right faceoff with his stick across his knees and his head down. He had shot the puck right into her glove. It was the perfect chance. He’d blown it.

“Charlie, let me take the draw. You set up at the top of the circle. We need your shot.” Trisha peered at him, her intense eyes wide open. “I can beat this guy. I know it.”

Charlie straightened out. He had taken dozens of draws against Savard. He was a faceoff master, and Charlie had trouble beating him. If they lost the draw, and Chelsea got the puck out, the game would be over. But she had come through before. He decided to trust her.

“He usually relies on the reverse grip and his timing. You need to tie him up first,” Charlie said.

She set up for the draw.

Trisha was not the listening type. Charlie doubted she would follow his advice. He lined up behind her and raised his stick slightly.

“I’m going in front of the net,” Pudge said to him.

That was good thinking. His buddy was strong and practically impossible to move. If they won the draw, he would set up a good screen.

Trisha stepped back from the circle. “Charlie, over to the left a bit.”

It was painful, being ordered around. He had to do it, just to get it over with.

Trisha waved her glove at him. “No. More. Here.” She came over and banged the tip of her stick on the ice half a metre away.

Charlie couldn’t help himself and he rolled his eyes. “Just win the draw already.”

“Line it up, number 10,” the ref said. She blew her whistle.

The crowd grew quiet in anticipation. The ref held the puck out. Trisha moved early, pivoting with her left foot, and spun into Savard as the puck fell. Savard was blocked off, and Trisha muscled the puck back to Charlie, directly onto his stick. Pudge turned to face him. He was in front of the goalie.

This time it was Charlie’s turn for shooting practice. He reared back, took one quick look, and fired at the top corner, stick side.

The crowd roared.

Trisha wrapped her arms around him, jumping up and down. “You did it! I knew it. You’re awesome. Awesome. What a shot. I knew it.”

Julia threw herself on them, screaming Scott’s cheer at the top of her lungs. “Terrence Falls? Yes! Terrence Falls? Yes!”

Emily was jumping like mad also, too excited to speak.

Pudge came over with a huge grin and he wrapped his arms around the four of them.

“I was just praying you wouldn’t hit me,” he said.

“It was tempting, but …” Charlie said.

As a group they made their way to the bench and high-fived their teammates. Scott and Nick were banging on their drums and chanting the school name,
along with everyone else. It was a magical moment, and Charlie didn’t want it to end. The ref’s whistle reminded him that it would have to, though. This game wasn’t over, and the prize money wasn’t theirs yet.

Cassie was skating backwards to her net, banging the ice with her big stick.

“Charlie’s line, I want you to stay out there,” Hilton said. “Don’t be afraid to go for the goal if you can, but nothing crazy. I like our chances in the shootout.”

Burnett had left the penalty box, and he and Savard were talking at the blue line. As Charlie came for the faceoff, Savard pushed off on one foot and glided to a stop a metre from the circle.

“Did you really have to score that goal?” Savard said. “I felt like going home.”

“We need that money to fix our roof,” Charlie said. “Otherwise, we’re going to have to invade your school for a few months.”

“It’s almost worth losing to put a stop to that,” Savard said. He paused and said, “But we’ll win because Chelsea never loses to Terrence Falls.”

The referee held the puck over the dot, and the two rivals bent over. Their sticks clashed and the puck bounced off Charlie’s skate. Savard took a swipe at it, and sent the puck to the right boards. Trisha got to it first and backhanded it to Michelle. She whisked it to Pudge. Charlie set up a metre inside the red line, hoping for a quick pass. Trisha had other ideas.

She had sneaked up the right wall and burst into the middle holding her stick up high. Pudge fired it. Trisha reached for it; so did Burnett. They both got to the puck at the same time, and Trisha fell hard to the
ice. A hush came over the arena. She wasn’t moving. Charlie rushed over. Burnett was kneeling next to her.

“Are you okay?” Burnett said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you.”

Charlie could hear the concern in his voice. He knew Burnett was a clean player and would never bodycheck in non-contact, let alone a girl. He had only gone for the puck.

Charlie dropped to his knees. “Hey, Trisha. Can you talk? Are you good?”

“Move aside, boys. Let me take a look.” The ref knelt down. “How are you feeling, young lady?” she said.

“A bit winded,” Trisha answered.

Charlie was relieved to hear her voice. She’d be okay. She was too tough to go down in a situation like this.

Trisha raised her head, and then got to her hands and knees. The two refs hooked their hands under her arms and lifted her up.

“I’m real sorry,” Burnett repeated.

“Not your fault,” Trisha said. “It’s just hockey. I’m fine.” She unhooked her arms from the refs’. Charlie helped her to the bench, and Julia came over too.

“Did you hit your head?” Charlie asked.

“His shoulder got me in the chest,” she said, gasping. “I’m winded more than anything else. He’s like a concrete wall.”

“He’s at least twice your size,” Charlie said.

Hilton had the door open, and he reached out to help her.

Trisha looked back. “Go score a goal or something.”

“You be ready for the shootout,” Charlie said, laughing.

That was the Trisha he had come to know. He looked at the clock. There were only fifteen seconds left. The players were content to let the clock run down, and after some scrappy play in the neutral zone, the buzzer sounded to end it.

Charlie and Julia stopped at centre.

“We’ve had some practice at this,” Charlie said. “This game is ours.”

“I’ll score if you do,” Julia said.

“Deal.”

He held out his glove and she gave it a punch.

“Line up and shake hands,” a ref said to them.

“But what about the shootout?” Charlie said.

She shook her head. “There’s no time for that. The next game is starting in five minutes and we need to flood the ice.”

“We have to finish the game, though,” Charlie said, skating after her. “It’s all tied up. We need a winner.”

“Chelsea won,” she said. “They had two more goals overall in the tournament.”

That hit him like a slap in the face and he stopped in his tracks. He saw the ref talking to Hilton. His coach was arguing, but the ref waved him off and skated away. A few Chelsea players raised their sticks and some high-fived, but it was half-hearted. They obviously were not proud of the way it had ended.

Charlie’s head began to swim, and he looked around in a daze. No shootout. Two more goals?

Julia stood before him. There were tears in her eyes.

He had no words to make her feel better. He wanted to cry himself.

They had lost. It was so unfair.

27
THE WALKING DEAD

Dalton hit the Return key.

“I think that should do it,” Dalton said. “I just had to change some settings.”

“Dalton, you’re a genius,” Pudge said. “I couldn’t get the stupid thing to work.”

Dalton’s cheeks turned red. “Glad to help.” He clicked the mouse a few times. “You simply need to click on this icon and the movie will start,” he said. “I believe Mr. Hilton will be making an announcement first, however. I think it will be interesting … for sure, interesting.” He looked around. “I should speak to Melissa and A.J. about setting up a second beverage centre on the other side of the cafeteria. Students would appreciate the convenience. Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen.”

Julia came over. “Are we ready to go?” she said. “The crowd is getting restless.”

“Apparently, Hilton’s going to make some announcements and we can start after that,” Charlie said.

Alexandra and Rebecca joined them.

“I like the cotton candy machine; at a buck a bag you can’t afford not to pig out,” Alexandra said, stuffing a
hunk into her mouth. “Want some?”

Julia took a handful and shared it with Charlie and Pudge.

“It’s good to see you guys at school,” Charlie said to Alexandra and Rebecca. “How are you feeling?”

“The doctor said I can come back to school next week,” Alexandra said. Suddenly, her eyes welled up. “Sorry. I know I’m being lame,” she said, wiping the tears away. “But I can’t believe we won’t actually be here much longer.”

“I heard the roof work might not even get done in time for the start of school next year,” Rebecca said. “This really could be it.”

“Are you trying to cheer us up?” Julia said.

“Sorry, Jules,” Rebecca said. “After the accident … well, I thought that everything would be okay, that fate was on our side.” She shook her head slowly. “But I guess life isn’t a fairy tale, and there isn’t always a happy ending.”

Julia put her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “I’ve cried enough. You lighten up this minute or I’m sending you home.”

Rebecca laughed. “I promise I’ll be obnoxiously cheerful from now on.”

Scott came over, followed by Nick in his wheelchair. Scott had three bags of popcorn and a half-eaten bag of cotton candy.

“Thanks for getting everyone snacks, Slatsky,” Alexandra said.

Scott’s eyes darted nervously. “Um, I was thinking these were for me … and I’m really hungry … and I’d share, but I have to eat all this myself or I might faint
 … which will be bad for movie night, and …” His voice trailed off, and he stuffed a big hunk of cotton candy in his mouth.

Charlie noticed a few more latecomers straggle in. The place was packed, with sleeping bags spread out all over the floor. Lots of kids had even come in their pyjamas, and everyone was joking and goofing around. “At least movie night’s a success. We should raise at least five thousand in ticket sales, and with concessions it could be over seventy-five hundred,” he said.

Charlie looked up at the stage. Hilton was setting up a microphone. “Can I have your attention?” he said. The students quieted down. “I won’t be long, and I definitely do not want to delay the first TFH double feature movie night.” Some of the students clapped politely. “Some of you may not know that I am the teacher rep for the Fundraising Committee.” A louder cheer went up. “Thanks,” he said, smiling. “I know. It’s a great honour. Anyway, I have a few announcements in connection with that. First, through the hard work of your committee and your fellow students, we managed to raise, including what we make tonight, approximately twenty-four thousand dollars!”

A few students clapped.

“And we must also thank the parents, who donated another fifty-eight thousand dollars, which is really something.”

That news was met with silence. Charlie crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. There it was. Now everyone knew. They had not come close.

“But there’s more,” Hilton carried on. “Our business community became energized this past week, impressed
by all your efforts to keep TFH open; and with their help, we were able to raise another eighteen thousand dollars.”

That was cool of them to try to help, thought Charlie.

“Have you been keeping track?” he asked Pudge.

“An even hundred thousand,” Pudge said.

Charlie gave a low whistle. He wondered what they would do with that money. Give it back?

“Now I would like to introduce your committee president, Melissa, and two very special guests, Andrea Ferreira and J.C. Savard.”

“This is bizarre. What’s he doing here?” Charlie said to Pudge.

Andrea accepted the microphone from Hilton. “Hi, Terrence Falls. I’m the president of Chelsea High student council. First off, let me tell you I think this movie night is a great idea; and you’ve had tons of great ideas for fundraising. I’m not too proud to admit we could use some of your school spirit and energy.”

“No chance,” someone yelled from the crowd, followed by some laughter.

Andrea didn’t let it faze her. She laughed and said, “You might be right. But anyway, if TFH has to shut down we are happy to have some of you come to Chelsea — and find out why Chelsea’s the most awesome school there is …”

A bunch of kids booed, and Andrea laughed again. “I’m just kidding. I know we’re rivals, but — and don’t let this get around — we also have a lot of respect for you guys, and we especially respect how hard you’ve worked on the fundraising. To raise this much money is
awesome, really; and we want to help out. J.C.’s going to make an announcement about that.”

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