She Makes Me Wanna

Sidney’s Point of View

Two days after Kris’s party, we were playing the New York Rangers. The home town crowd was pumped, and I was extremely excited to get onto the ice. I shifted from foot to foot, standing in the tunnel, waiting anxiously to get out onto the ice.

“Nervous Captain?” Emily asked, turning around to see me rocking back and forth.

“Nervous? No. Excited? Very much so,” I smirked. Emily nodded in understanding, and the look in her golden-brown eyes was almost hungry as the announcer began to speak.

“Yeah, I feel you on that one,” she said, turning around and picking up her stick. We raced out, high fiving the equipment crew on our way out, and skated onto the ice. The roar of the crowd escalated as soon as we hit the ice, and I smiled broadly. There was nothing better than the feeling of being on the ice, especially in front of such a great home crowd. Dan had put a lot of stock into the rookies, so I was on the first line with Emily as my left winger and Jack as my right. The two of them worked extremely well together, and with me as well, so I wasn’t about to complain. Some of the other guys grumbled about being shunted down by rookies, but with their performance in the preseason, Emily and Jack deserved their spots. Brad Richards met me at center ice for the faceoff, and I could immediately tell that something was going to go down in the game. It wasn’t until my eyes fell on the Rangers left winger that I knew why I had such a bad feeling about the game. Sean Avery had once again made his way back onto the New York Rangers.

The game began in a blur. I won the faceoff, and the puck bounced from Penguin to Penguin until it found its way into the glove of Henrik Lundqvist. The Rangers took the next faceoff, and wore our defense down a bit. Their passing game was up, and as I returned to the bench I shook my head.

With five minutes left in the first, the Penguins were put on the power play. The first line was out, so I dropped the puck back to the defensemen. The puck soon found its way onto Emily’s stick, and she took off so fast that the Rangers couldn’t catch up with her. I was amazed at how quickly she could move. However, Avery caught up and poke checked the puck away from her. I could see something snap in her, and I knew that Avery had said something to set her off when he took the puck. The two teams honed in on the puck, and it wasn’t long until we were crashing the net. I passed the puck to Emily, and she snapped it in right under the leg of Lundqvist. Avery cross checked her, sending her careening into the net. The second he did it, I knew that he had made a bad choice, because Emily’s gloves were off in a flash.

“Let’s go you little fucker! Talk shit, get hit. If you don’t think I’m man enough to play hockey, fight me!” she barked, and Avery dropped his gloves. I froze, unsure of what to do, but by the time I decided to break them apart it was too late. Emily had a good grip on Avery’s jersey, and despite the fact that he was a good 7 inches taller than her, she was laying it into him. She pounded him to the ice, and when he finally went down, I could see that she had definitely broken his nose.

“Call me a slut again Avery, and I’ll break more than your nose!” she barked as she skated off towards the penalty box, picking up her gloves as she went. I picked up her stick and handed it to her.

“What the hell happened?” I asked.

“He asked me how many guys on the team I fucked to get onto the first line,” she snarled, wiping a thin line of blood off of her eyebrow. I felt anger boiling up inside me, and I glared at Avery as he was escorted to the box.

“Vance what the hell was that?!” Dan Bylsma screamed as he walked into the locker room. Emily sat at her stall, nursing a huge black eye and a scowl.

“Somebody needed to teach Avery a lesson or two,” she growled, shifting the ice pack she had pressed to her eye.

“Yeah, well if we need a fight I’ll be sure to let you know!” Dan barked.

“Dan, Avery provoked her,” I said from my stall.

“Oh really? And what did he say that was so bad that you had to fight him? I know that shove was crossing the line but you could have let the refs take care of it!” Dan said.

“He called me a slut…asked how many guys on the team I had to sleep with to get my spot on the first line,” Emily sighed heavily. The locker room suddenly became deathly quiet.

“Why the hell would he assume something like that?” Tanger asked, breaking the silence.

“Because I’m a girl, and because I’m good at a sport it must mean that I whore myself out to play!” Emily screamed, standing up and punching the side of her locker stall as hard as she could. We all cringed, and I swallowed roughly as she hung her head.

“Emily…” Dan said, but Emily held up her hand.

“Sorry Coach…uncalled for,” she muttered, sitting down. Dan cleared his throat awkwardly and began to tell us what we needed to work on in the next period, but most of my attention was fixed on Emily. Her head was hung in shame, and Jack patted her back every once in a while. As we lined up to get back on the ice, I finally found the courage to say something to her.

“Emily, we all know you aren’t a slut, and you’re going to prove to the people out there who might…question you…one goal at a time. You’re a damn good hockey player,” I said, and she turned around.

“Thanks Captain,” she said, genuine relief and appreciation flooding her battered face.

The game ended 4-2 in favor of Pittsburgh, and once again Emily’s name had found its way onto every single one of the goals in the form of a goal and three assists. One of the goals had been on a penalty kill, after Kris had boarded Avery. The team was in high spirits, especially Emily, and I was even in the mood to have a good time.

“Let’s hit the club!” Jordan yelled, and the whole locker room cheered in approval.