Eight Seconds Left In Over Time

“Why did you call this team meeting Crosby?” Coach Michel Therrien asked me once the team was in the meeting room.

“Guys.” I stood up to take a good look at all of my teammates gathered around the table. “I’ve got some important news.”

I felt like I was on an intense reality show. I bit my tongue, holding down the laugh that was trying to escape. I kept a straight face and watched as my teammates started to talk amongst themselves.

“What is it Sid?” Ray Shero asked me, throwing looks towards Michel.

“Evgeni," I called.

None of them had yet noticed that Evgeni was missing. The door slowly opened.

Gasps escaped their mouths all around the room.

“Hey guys.”

Just like her, to act all cool, like nothing had happened. She leaned against the door with a grin on her face, wearing some penguins get up, hair in a messy bun. I could tell that she had lost some weight. Not that she was fat, not at all. But in her face, you could see she hadn’t eaten much.

“Tristan Davis?"

The room went quiet, as my teammates and I waited for our coach to make a move. Michel stood up, walking towards the girl.

“Hello coach, sorry I’m late,” she stated with a simple grin. Michel reached out and hugged her.

“I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve got some things to discuss. But for now, take your seat,” Michel told her, taking a step back, whipping the tears out of his eyes.

-------->
put me in coach. it’s game time.
-------->

I took my seat in-between Kristopher Letang and Ryan “Bugsy” Malone.

“Tristan.”

I turned to Kris and watched the tears fall out of the poor boy’s eyes.

“I’m so happy to see you,” he whispered.

“Oh Kris.”

Now he got me going.

I hugged the boy and held onto him tightly. I had missed my best friends quite a bit.

A tap on my shoulder made me look over. Bugsy was holding his arms open. “Come here girl,” he said smiling, giving me a hug. And for the next ten minutes. I went around hugging every single person in that room.

My family, or rather, the closet people that met that standard, had disappeared from my mind. And I wasn’t about to lose them again.

I sat back down in my seat. The boys all wiping their eyes. I didn’t want them to worry about me anymore. I knew that I was fine. And I wanted them to be sure too. I was ready to get out on the ice and prove to them I still had it in me.

“Now this changes everything,” Michel muttered to himself.

“What do you mean?” Sidney asked from across the table.

“I mean, that now we are going to be picking up the ball,” Michel stated, looking around the room.

“What? You guys dropped the ball?” I asked shocked. What had happened to my team?

None of my teammates answered me.

“Yes, Tristan, it was horrible. It’s like everybody forgot how to skate, to pass, to shoot. I was seriously disappointed. I now see that you hold the team up more then I had ever realized. And I’m so damn glad that your back with us,” Michel said, once again bringing tears to my eyes.

“Thank you,” I chocked out. Not really knowing what to say. Kris rubbed my back, smiling at me the whole time. Across from me, Evgeni was grinning.

“So, let’s get her on the ice!” Sidney said excitedly, about to jump out of seat.

“No, not yet Sidney.”

“What! But Michel! She’s back, and she’s ready!” Sidney complained, enraged.

And actually so was I. What was he saying? The playoffs were in three days, and I wasn’t going to be playing? That's totally bullshit.

“I’m not sure if she can even play anymore," Michel whispered, almost under his breath.

I stood up, slamming the table hard. “What did you just say?”

-------->
----->

The puck hit the post, flying the opposite direction of the net and hitting the boards with a loud thump, a second later it fell back to the ground.

I waited for Tristan to come out of the meeting with Michel, Ray and some men from the head of the NHL.

“Geno, mind if I join?”

I looked over, feeling a stupid grin appearing on my face.

“Of course, but don’t go crying when I beat you,” I said cockily.

“Hah, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.”

She brushed past me, the hairs on my neck stood on end, and my heart rate increased.

I was thinking how strange it was that all those memories just suddenly came back to her.

“Posts?” she asked, flipping a puck on her stick.

“Why not,” I smiled inwardly, before walking forward to where she was.

“You know, I missed you,” I breathed into her ear.

She spun around. “And I was hoping that you would,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I leaned in and she met me half way, our lips coming slowly in contact.

“It’s really not enough to say that I missed you,” in between kisses I managed to get out.

“Excuse me.”

We both pulled away suddenly.

At one of the rink’s entrance Michel stood staring at us.

“Shit.”

“I just wanted to tell Tristan that she’s going be to be having a physical tomorrow,” Michel said casually before walking off.

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she whispered, a blush forming on her face.

“Well don’t stop on my account,” Michel told us waving his hand behind him.

Seconds later our laughs erupted throughout the arena.

“Oh my god,” Tristan slid to me, as I caught her in my arms. “We just got caught making out by our coach and he doesn’t even care!” she said laughing and hugging me once more.

“Damn right he doesn’t. He knows not to mess in our business.”

“You're such a dork!”

“I’m your dork!” I replied, laughing and striking a pose.

“Oh shut up, c'mon! It’s game time!”

She grabbed my hand and we slid to the other side of the rink.

|game one|

I cheered, hitting the boards with my hand as hard as I could.

“Go skate MALKIN!” I cried.

For a slight second he looked over to me, and grinned, before making a move on the defensemen and skating with ease past him.

He faked out the goalie, shooting blocker side. The puck flew into the back of the net. Evgeni threw his gloves up in the air. The game was over and the crowd was going wild. We had won 4-3 against the Boston Bruins in the first game of the playoffs.

“We won Fuzz!” Max collapsed on me.

“We won Max!” I cried, hugging the boy.

Well they had won, I wasn’t allowed to play. Not until I was making an improvement. Michel said that if we got past the first round, then maybe I could play in the second.

“Fuzz!” I was consumed in a group hug, then lifted onto Marc-Andre’s shoulders. I smiled down at my amazing teammates.

Suddenly, “Fuzz, Fuzz, Fuzz” chanted throughout the arena. I laughed. I loved this place.

|game two|

Now this really wasn’t fair. I was on the edge of the bench, trying to get a good look at the game, but I was squished between the door and Ty Conklin. Why couldn’t I just be out in the game? I was ready and I knew it.

“Good game,” I said to Sidney after the game.

“Thanks kid,” he laughed picking me up.

“CROSBY!”

We had won 3-1.

|game three|

“NO!” Michel screamed at the ref. “He was in the crease! Look back!”

“I made the call he was not in the crease, coach.”

“Review it!”

And that’s how we lost. By one simple goal. That call didn’t change much. We weren’t on our game.

|game four|

“An amazing save by Fleury!” the announcer screamed into the mic.

“Ev.”

Evgeni turned to face me.

“Yeah?” he asked, walking across the bench to me.

“Please, for me, do something to win this fucking game.”

“I promise," he said, tilting my chin up to stare into my eyes. And then he hugged me and jumped onto the ice.

”Malkin passes to Crosby. Crosby to Letang. Shot, and he scores!”

I jumped on Kris as he reached the bench.

“My hero!” I laughed. That game ended good. We won 4-2.

|game five|

“Listen up ya no good, rotten, kids.” I grinned to myself, pacing about the locker room. “I want you to go out and crush this team! Do you hear me?” I yelled as loud as I could.

“We hear you!” they repeated back.

“DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“WE HEAR YOU!”

“Pens on three. 1-2-3, PENS!” we cheered, rushing out of the locker room.

The series ended there. And we crushed them all right. 6-1 beating.

[keep up the beatings]

“Shut it Evgeni! I so took you down!” Kris yelled across the room, hitting me with a tape ball.

“I wasn’t the one begging to stop, Letang!” I smirked, throwing it right back. Tristan was at a meeting with the doctor.

At that moment, Michel walked into the room followed by Ray.

“So, what have you decided?” Sidney asked, sitting next to me on the locker room floor.

“She’s not playing.”

The room was suddenly deadly silent.

“What?” Jordan asked.

“I said, she’s not playing. She’s not in good condition boys.”

“Does Tristan know?” Marc asked, looking just as pissed as I was.

“No. And she’s not going to. Anyone says anything, I will personally see to your punishment.”

What the hell was he talking about? He’s not going to tell Tristan? She is the one that’s not going to be playing. She’s going to have to find out sometime!

“That’s not fair!” Sidney cried.

“Deal with it. Life’s not fair.”

With those last words of wisdom, they walked out of the locker room.