Determination

I stood at the door, left speechless by the woman standing there. I looked behind her to the beat up mini van, and I could see Rachel and Kim’s faces pressed eagerly against the windows, James and David trying to fight their way in front of Rachel and Kim.
 
I couldn’t find anything to say. In fact, I kinda just looked at her; surprised I hadn’t heard my jaw hit the floor yet. I remember the last thing she said to me, “I hope you like your life because I’m not going to pay for you to go to actually college and get an actual life when you realize you’ll never fit in in the NHL.” I know, beautiful last words, huh?
 
“Uh… hi?” I finally choked out.
 
“March,” She said coolly.
 
I finally found my words to say, and that’s probably what brought Marc Andre to the door asking me who’s there and what’s going on with me. “What is this? Some sort of fucking family reunion? Well now isn’t the time!”
 
“Who’s that?” Marc Andre asked, his mouth full.
 
Mom gave him a disgusted look.
 
“Mom, this is the goal tender for the Pittsburgh Penguins, and one of my best friends, Marc Andre Fleury. Flower, this is my mom.”
 
They shook hands, unsmiling.
 
She took her hand away quickly and I think both Flower and I noticed her wipe her hand on her shirt afterwards. “Anyway,” She said curtly, “I just drove six hours from New Jersey, because all the kids wanted to see you play. And I didn’t waste around 300 dollars to not even see you. I half wasted it, James was banging on the glass the whole time, and even when you skated by us you didn’t react. So the LEAST you could do is let us into your house.”
 
I narrowed my eyes, “Now’s not a good time.” But in my head, my thoughts were a freaking tornado. She came? They came? They all came to watch me play? I didn’t see them? What do they think about me? They probable hate me! Do they though? Is Mom a little less upset now? No.
 
Mom’s eyes blazed, but I could tell she felt a lot less confident in her argument when another hockey player came up behind me. When I looked up, I was a little bit startled myself, but for a different reason than my mother is.
 
“Geno?” I asked. He’s the last person I expected to come to my defense right now, but he has a big build, and the priceless look on Mom’s face said it all right there. I almost started laughing. I’d never seen that look on her face before.
 
He gave me some stare that almost looked like a smile. Almost. “What happen?”
 
Before I got a chance to say anything, mom’s face changed. It was as if she’d been living in a cold hard shell, but suddenly came out and is the most vulnerable creature in the woods. “Please March, they want to see you so badly. Ever since I wouldn’t make the trip here for your first game in the NHL!”
 
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Go get them.”
 
She ran off to the van, unleashing my siblings. “Don’t worry, I’ll send them to my hotel. They’ll only be here a few minutes. Try to handle them.”
 
Evgeni cracked a smile. A REAL SMILE. A smile that I’ve only seen in pictures. And it was directed at ME? He actually smiled at ME? Why? What did I do? Is he going to finally accept me? Why should he? He was pretty sIure about his feelings towards me before!
 
“What was that?” I asked by accident. “You hate me!”
 
He smiled again. Wow is this like a new leaf or something? “No hate you anymore.”
 
I gave him the oddest of looks, “Wait, but why though?”
 
He didn’t have time to answer; I was engulfed in children before he could. Mom said, “See March?”
 
I nodded, “Okay. Hey guys!”
 
I was bombarded by questions, thoughts, and randomer thoughts, and some more questions.
 
“March! You did it!”
 
“March! You’re in the NHL?”
 
“Do you still love me?”
 
“I’m your number one fan sis!”
 
“Can you sign my March Wilson jersey?”
 
“I got an A in math this quarter!”
 
“You played so well!”
 
“You’ll have the next one for sure!”
 
“Forget about the Devils, go Penguins!”
 
“You made it to the NHL, I’ll make it to the NBA then! Maybe!”
 
“Did you miss us?”
 
“The Capitals suck!”
 
“Ovechkin is ugly!”
 
“Who do you live with?”
 
“I read online that you’re going to be on the first line next game.” Well, I was on the first line this game too, but whatever you say. How do you find that stuff online? Isn’t that like secret coach stuff? Eh, whatever.
 
I hugged each child. Man, I feel so far away from them. They feel like random fans instead of people I’ve lived with my whole life. I smiled, and didn’t say anything except for, “Sorry for not seeing you. I was told you were there the whole time banging on the glass.”

"It's okay!" James replied. "So who else is here?"

"So I'm not the real deal anymore?"

"Nope. That's other James." I laughed.

I led them all inside, and by then Geno, Flower and Jordan were inside the door, begging me for an explanation. "Okay guys. These are my siblings, Rachel, Kim, James and David."

They shook hands with all of my teammates, well Jordan, Flowers and Jordan who stood at the door frame. Tey all signed their jerseys and I realized that only James was wearing a Wilson jersey. Kim was wearing Crosby (surprise, surprise) Rachel was wearing Malkin, and David was wearing Dupuis.

Pretty soon all the team mates here were clustered around us signing jerseys and stuff. James (James Neal, not my brother) pulled me aside and said, "What's wrong?"

I was a little confused, but I have an idea of what he's getting at. "What do you mean?"

He smirked, "Oh come on. There's not one person out there who thinks that nothing's up with you."

"There's not?" I don't want to admit what's bothering me, and I won't, and if I do James Neal is probably the last person I'll tell. No offense to him. He's a great friend, but not a super secret keeper.

He gave me a slight smile, "You can tell me what's wrong March. I'm not going to tell anyone and I'd never judge you. Ever."

I sighed. Deep down I know that and I'm being an asshole, but I'm still not going to tell James.

His face changed. I could tell he knew he wasn't going to get anything out of me. He almost looked mad and he muttered, "Fine. Tomorrow morning I'll just ask Sidney."

I was pretty shaken by what he said and I was about to yell at him and tell him that no one was going to find out about anything, but I thought about it. If Sid noticed something was bothering me he'd ask me and I'd tell him. I'm not being fair. I'm leading him on. I never wanted to do that to anyone.

"March!" My mom called me over. "Would you mind if I left a few kids here with you tonight? I will not get two hotel rooms for two nights and five of us can not cram into one hotel room."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine. Who's stuck with me?"

She smiled and gave a slight laugh, "They have never been happier to see anyone in their lives March. But maybe take Kim and James?"

I nodded, "Sounds good! And we have an early noon game tomorrow. Meet me at the arena and I'll hand them off to you? I have front row seats for you guys now, right by the Devils bench or Pens bench, it's your choice."

She smiled and said, "I'll take the Devils one. I think James is the only one sold on being a Penguins fan."

"They can root for whoever they'd like to."
**************************************************
About an hour later, we forced my mom, Rachel and David to leave.

"Okay, so tonightwe're just stuck with Kim and James. Can they take Taylor's room by any chance?"

I asked Sidney and he nodded, "Yeah yeah. You sister Kim is the puck bunny, right?"

I wanted to defend her and say she's watching the game too, but that would be a huge lie and I just decided to admit, "Yeah but she's thirteen, don't worry about it."

He smiled, "I don't know, I've seen how those creepy thirteen year olds ATTACK One Direction or Justin Bieber."

I laughed, "Yeah, but you have more protection here in Pittsburgh than anyone."
**************************************************
James avoided me at all costs for the rest of the night, and up until 7AM tomorrow. He made his own breakfast before I even came downstairs, and he skipped our tradition of going out to the laundry room to grab our hockey bags, when I gave up and went by myself, his bag was not in it's usual spot, it was pushed up against the wall as close to the staircase as it could get today. What did I DO?

Coming backk upstairs, I found him looking a mess as he stumbled down the stairs after I was a considerably safe distance away. I sighed, I know it's only been twelve hours, but is it bad that I miss him?

I tried to push my James problems to the back of my head as I gave my mom a call. Then I remembered it was 5:30 in the morning after a long lecture, which I didn't listen to as I made omelets.

Finally, at around seven James came up to me. "Hi, um, you have some interviews before the game, your email was left up on my laptop, and well, I remember that James and Kim have to be taken to the game, and you'll meet your mother, how about I take the kids instead? He made eye contact with me and I nodded slowly.

"You would do that?" Was the thing that came out of my mouth before I could think it through correctly.

He nodded, "Yeah. It's weird, I didn't think you thought of me as a total bitch when I first met you. When I was the first person here to warm up to you."

With that he walked away, and I prayed that no one would walk into the kitchen after that, but I was kind of thankful for the person who did. Except then I wasn't.

"What happen?" Some one said in broken english.

"Nothing."

"March what happen." His voice was firm and I had to answer.

"I'm such a bitch to everyone, especially the people who have only done good things for me. I feel so bad, like everything is my fault. And it is. I'm sorry I ruined this team for you Geno."

He nodded, "Not everything your fault. You get through this."

"Thanks Geno." I hugged him, and with a last glance walked out of the room.
**************************************************

Soon enough, we took the ice for practice. I couldn't help but cast a glance over my shoulder at the team that I imagined playing with my whole life. I grew up watching them play. Adam Henrique had been my crush for the longest time, while Ilya Kovalchuk had been my inspiration. Travis Zajac had been the hockey player I had imagined being best friends with. Martin Brodeur, the ageless 42 going on 43 year old goalie. Bryce Salvador, the man who had been forced to retire last year due to a major concussion on a hut by Marc Staal. And David Clarkson, the fearless captain, a fierce fighter and a loyal team mate. I always imagined myself in that group. It's funny how things shake out. For a split second I felt desire to play with them, but it was gone in a flash.

I wonder if there's a James Neal on the Devils, a funny guy with a great personality. Or a Marc Andre, a fun guy who isn't too confident. Or even a Sidney Crosby, a sensual guy who will be your very best friend. Or a Kris, a guy who's cool to hang out with WITHOUT a boyfriend/girlfriend aspect. Or an Evgeni, a stubborn guy who can be extremely rude and will surprise you in a hundred different ways. Is Pete DeBoer at all like Coach Dan? Does he make up games to make practice more fun, like the juice person? Does he like his team as much as Dan likes us? Is it more fun to be a New Jersey Devil?

I fired the puck into the net behind Flower, an upstairs goal. I took a puck and played catch with Chris Kunitz for a while. I wondered if anyone else noticed how I kept looking over to the other side of the ice at the men in red shirts that I've idolized my entire life. I remember Sidney said I'd have to check Adam Henrique into the boards. Will I be able to?

We skated back to the bench for a last quick talk from Coach Dan.

He lectured us, saying all the normal things. I sat on the bench for the first two minutes before jumping off and taking a faceoff against a new devil, Steve Zalewski.

I ended up winning the puck and passing it out to Sidney who started our first real rush of the game. He looked around and looked at Kuni waiting out on the right wing with Marek Zidlicky paying special attention to him.

Sidney realized the irrationality of trying to get the puck to Chris, so he switched gears and passed it to me. I couldn't help it, I passed it back to Sidney. Something in the back of my mind screams DON'T SCORE ON MARTIN BRODEUR.

He just gave it back, and I tried to penetrate the zone with no luck, and I gave it to Kris Letang who took a shot on the goal.

I was the last person ready for a fight. Clarkson tried to declare a penalty on Sidney for tripping, but there's no call.

"Cindy Crosby just gets spoiled in this league." He yelled, and that resulted in Sidney going after David and all hell breaking loose.

All of them. All the Penguins and Devils were currently involved in the brawl except for me who stood on the edge. But I had to. I threw my first punch and I thanked God it was the new devil, Steve Zalewski who had pulled me aside to fight separately from the rest of the group. I dropped my gloves and tried to hit him, but I was unsuccessful. His 6-0 frame is a lot to much for my 5 foot 9 one.

Chris fell to the ice, and the refs finally pulled them apart. Oh damn, no one looks good at all. Sidney's nose is all bloody and Chris had the wind knocked out of him, while Kris Letang had the sweater ripped off his back, and it's laying on the ice while he stands dressed in white padding. Brooks looks a little shaken, not really hurt. I breathed a sigh of relief when Chris stood up by himself and said something to Sidney and he laughed.

Kris and Brooks joined me. Kris was in the process of pulling the sweater back over his head and Brooks Orpik said, "Remember when you were a Devils fan?"

I laughed, "Rough times. David Clarkson just talks a lot doesn't he?"

I guess David heard me because he looked over and yelled, "Look Princess at least I'm not afraid to fight."

"Oh you're so FEARLESS." I said sarcastically. "Get the hell outta the league. These past few years you've become a total butch who just plays to get his hands dirty."

I knew that was the wrong thing to say when he came at me and said, "I can show you playing with class," He hissed the last word and finished his thought, "But I can play rough too. Wanna see Wilson?"

"Get the hell off of me." I said, trying not to let the hurt seep into my voice. My childhood idol clearly despises me. I looked down as he skated away. I said to Kris miserably, "I looked up to him forever!"

Kris gave a sympathetic smile, "I know how you feel. He's got no class. Don't let him get to you."

My own smile faltered and I breathed a sigh of sadness. "He'll get it for instigating?"

Kris shrugged, "There might only be a major."

I nodded as we waited for the penalties to be dealt.

David Clarkson- 2 for unsportsman like conduct
Sidney Crosby- 2 for unsportsman like conduct
Ilya Kovalchuk- 5 for fighting
Chris Kunitz- 5 for fighting
Marek Zidlicky- 4 for drawing blood
Brooks Orpik- 4 for drawing blood
Henrik Tallinder- 2 for a high stick

And we go into the four minutes of 4 on 4. Jesus Christ, what the hell was all that?

The opening period ended with the tied score of 0-0.

The locker room looked like hell. Sid was getting his face stitched up from the high stick from Tallinder right before the fight had began.

This is going to be a truly ruthless game.

The second period had a couple little scraps, none involving me. The score at the end of the period remained at 0-0.

The third period is when both teams were fucking competing. Holy shit. Ilya Kovalchuk had a hat trick in those twenty minutes the three goals assisted by the same two people every single goal. Matteau and Ryan Carter.

We had four goals, Sidney with 2, James with one and Kris Letang with one.

What happened next hurt a lot, both emotionally and physically.

I had started a rush, the defenseman Adam Larsson and the other defense man was sitting in the box, so Ilya Kovalchuk was alongside Adam Larsson.

Ilya took the puck from me and tried a wrist shot from centrr ice but it went up and I put my hand up. Delay of game for Ilya Kovalchuk.

"No, it did no go out."

"Did too!" I argued. How can I argue with Ilya Kovalchuk? How can I argue with my child hood hero?

He got physical, and I did too. I got hit in the mouth by the person I had idolized as a kid. I could barely taste the blood in my mouth from the hit. I fought back, dropping the gloves. I thought I gave him a few hard hits before I took one right to the jaw, and fell backwards.

My last thought went something like this: oh shit I hit Ilya Kovalchuk.

And it all went black.