What You Don't Know

The week went by without a hitch. I watched every single one of Ty's hockey practice's as he re-acclimates himself to the rink and the game. Maggie and his mom even came to one or two practices. Now, it's Friday, and Ty and the team have a big game tonight against Coldwell-Caulder Academy. I just finished my make-up, which includes big blue and red stripes under my eyes, when my cell phone rings. Oh god, Ty must have changed it when he took me to Dunkies after his practice yesterday, and I left my phone with him when I went to the bathroom. It's blasting Brainwashed by Ultraviolet Sound. I immediately think of Ty, and, when I look down, his picture is spread across the screen. I answer the call. "Hi!" I say too excitedly into the phone.
"Hey. I can't wait to see you in the stands tonight," he says to me sweetly.
"Oh, you'll see me. Don't worry about that." We both laugh at my remark.
"You've convinced me. I'm so happy to be back with the boys again. I was missing them. I didn't realize that I was until I was in the rink again."
"I knew you missed them. Brettly told me when he finally got back to the rink that it was an incredible feeling. He hadn't realized how much he missed the guys. He told me also that the whole team really missed you."
"I could tell. They nearly tackled me when they saw me walk into the locker room. Apparently, coach hadn't told them that I was coming back."
"That sounds wicked fun."
A little silence filled the air for a moment.
"Gracie?"
"Yeah."
A long, deep breath is exhaled from his mouth, "I'm happy we're together, and I can't wait for our date tomorrow."
His words bring a smile to my face.
"I am too. For both. You're unlike anyone I've ever gotten to know. And I like that."
"I'm just so happy. I love being with you and just having you in my presence. I'd defend you to the end of the world."
"Thank you," I exhale slowly so I won't tear up.
"I'll see you at the game tonight," I can feel his smile through my phone.
"Okay, I can't wait to see you kick some ass and score some goals on these bitches."
He bursts out in hysterical laughter. I don't think he's ever heard me swear.
"Okay, I will," he laughs out.
"See you later, Ty."
"See ya, Gracie."
The game was as nerve-racking and exciting as all hell. Brettly scored twice in the first, but they went into the first intermission it was 3-2 Coldwell-Caulder. In the second period, Ty tied the score up. It stayed like that into the shoot out with a few close close calls and missed chances along the way. I was biting my bottom lip so tightly that it bled just the slightest bit. Both sides scored twice in the shoot out, and it was up to Ty and Alexei, our goalie, to win it. Ty started down the ice at a good pace, skating from side to side. Then, at the last possible moment, her pulled a Patrick-Kane-like shoot out goal.
The crowd erupted in cheers and screaming and yelling. Now, it was up to Alexei. The opponents player started down the ice. It seemed like it was happening in slow motion. Smooth skating down the center of the ice. I felt the urge to puke, scream, and even cry. All I could do was yell, "COME ON, ALEXEI. YOU GOT THIS!!!" And then it happened, we won! Ty had shot the winning goal! I don't think our hockey rink has been louder than it was at that moment. I started banging on the glass and jumping up and down, screaming "TYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY! HELL FREAKIN' YEAH, TY!" Just then he came over, pointed at me, and smiled. I almost melted.
After the game, his mother, his sister, and I hugged. We went out to the lobby to wait for Ty. The minute we saw him we started cheering. He jogged, almost ran over to us. When he hugged us individually and got to me, I said, "I'm so proud of you." He kissed me in front of his mom and sister. I guess I should get used to that. He smiled down at me. His hair dripping from his after-game shower. The moment was perfect. I smiled back up at him. It was perfect. Tonight was perfect.
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All I can hear is noise. There's glass shattering everywhere. The one constant is Frank Sinatra's voice continuing on the radio. My head hits the side door, and then it feels like everything is spinning upside down over and over again. I can't feel anything. No pain at all. I just feel fear. Lights are everywhere turning, blurring, brightening. Are they headlights? Stop lights? Street lights? I don't know. Then, everything stops except for Frank Sinatra even though he's softer now. His voice is starting fade away. In the blink of an eye, it's gone. The lights go black.
The next thing I hear are voices and sirens. There's yelling, screaming, crying, and even the sound of somebody puking. I feel heavy. Everything feels heavy. Then, I hear my name. "GRACIE! GRACIE! CAN YOU HEAR ME?" The voice seems familiar, but I just can't place it. I still can't see anything, but I hear myself make a pained noise. I don't even know how to describe the sound I just made. It sounds like someone was sticking a knife through me when I let the noise out. "It's okay, Gracie. They're going to get you out of there. Don't worry, baby. I'm here. Ty's here. Can you hear me?" TY. That's whose voice it is. The noise I make hurts, but it's worth every last ounce of strength it takes. "Ty, I'm alive." That's when everything goes quiet.