Determination

Dad let me skip school the whole next week, after a huge fight with my mom about it. I was sitting on my purple and red bedspread with my laptop on the nightstand and the home phone somewhere else in the room, if it wasn't clutched in my hand. I spent a lot of time on my new iPhone I had gotten a few weeks back.

*Ding*

I practically jumped off the bed and opened the laptop going directly to my email. My heart fell when I realized it was just my best friend Allie.

March? Where the hell have you been? I've texted you like a million times! -Allie Trimm

I replied:

I'll be in school soon. The coach and general manager of the Pittsburgh Penguins wanted to meet me in Newark. That's all. -March

I smiled, it was one of those humble brags.

The reply to my sluggish email came almost as soon as I had sent it.

HOLY SHIT MARCH! They're gonna call and you don't want your mom to answer and decline I'm guessing. Math test on Friday, try and be back. Mrs. Miller wanted me to tell you that. Sorry I have to go, I need to drive my brother to his soccer practice. Text me later okay? -Allie Trimm

I smiled. Oh Allie. I sent her a quick goodbye, and that's when the phone rang.

I ran to get a notepad so I could take down quick notes if there was anything I needed to remember. "Hello?" I answered, hoping I didn't sound as nervous and as excited as I felt.

"This is March? This is Ray Shero."

I almost screamed. But I kept my composure. "Yeah this is March. Hi Mr. Shero."

He said, "Alright. Great to speak with you again! Mr. Bylsma and I have had talks with Gary Bettman, and we would be happy to add you to our roster."

Okay, okay NOW I screamed. But who WOULDN'T? "Oh my Gid, are you serious?" I asked, my voice high pitched.

Mr. Shero laughed, "I do. Would you like to play in the National Hockey League?"

I was crying hot, excited tears. "Yes! Yes yes yes!" I yelled, kneeling on the floor, my mom was now standing beside me.

Mr. Shero laughed again. "We'll shoot you an email tonight with more details, and we already asked your dad earlier about this. March Wilson, welcome to the National Hockey League. We'll talk to you later okay?"

"Alright! Thank you so so so so SO much Mr. Shero! And tell Coach Bylsma the same thing! Oh my God thank you so much!"

Mr. Shero said some parting words and I hung up the phone and looked up at my mom. I glared at her, my mood immediatly changing. "I'm going to be playing for the Pittsburgh Penguins. So just try and support me!"

I walked out of the room and called Dad, who already knew.

------------ -------------- --------------
I was reading through the email again. Is this seriously happening to me?

Dear March Wilson,
Welcome to the National Hockey League! Come to Pittsburgh on Friday, August 2nd so you can meet some of the players before the beginning if training camp. If this date doesn't work just email us and we can switch it. We are very excited to have you March!
-Mr. Ray Shero and Coach Dan Bylsma

I forwarded the email to my dad, Coach Harrison, Allie and some other school friends, and even Michael Harrison, the goalie I had taken some shots on. I thanked everyone.

I got a million replies from school friends, and I smiled and replied to all of them. My favorite reply was from Allie though.

I read it aloud a couple dozen times, "March! You finally did it! We all knew you could! I know I'll still see you and you'll never forget me. Keep your head on staight and skates on the ice. I love you so much March! Congratulations! -Your best friend Allie."

I read, tears in my eyes. It was the shortest reply I got, but by far the most meaningful to me. That's just like Allie. I don't know why it's the most meaningful response, maybe just because she was TELLING me I wouldn't forget her, not begging me not to forget about her.

Dad rushed home right after I payed him that phone call, he was fighting back tears of pride and excitement for me. "We all knew this would happen for you March!"

All my younger siblings came home from their summer soon after. (All except Kim who went to summer camp for the next week, and Rachel just came from a friend's pool club.) I have 2 sisters, Rachel is 16 and Kim is 13. Then my two little brothers, James is 10 and David is 7

Rachel threw her bag on the kitchen table, and saw me texting rapidly while scrolling on my laptop. "Uh March?"

"Yeah?" I asked, still rereading Ray Shero's email.

"March?" She ran over to me and read the email over my shoulder. "Oh my God! March you're going to play in the NHL! You said yes right?"

"No of course not." I said sarcastically, but then said, "Duh! How could I say no to something like this!"

I hugged my younger sister. "Did you call Kim?"

"Not yet. I think I'll go meet the players and then text her a picture of me and Sidney Crosby." Rachel laughed at my response.

I showed my brothers and James yelled, "That's so great!" Then he said, "Wait a sec! That means I have to root for the PENGUINS?" I smiled at my die hard Devils fan brother.

"Nah you root for who you like!"

David was excited too. "So do we get to meet hockey players on your team? You're going to be on TV? You're going to get to be number 77? You get a jersey with your name? You get to be friends with the Pittsburgh Penguins players?"

I didn't bother answering my little brothers flood Of questions, but he said something that made me nervous. What if the players on the penguins didn't like me? What if they hated me? What if I was bullied by them? What if they didn't want a girl on their team?

I kept the worries to myself until I ended up in the car driving to Pittsburgh with my dad. We invited Coach Harrison, but apparently one of his old friends' daughter was getting married.

"Dad what if they all hate me? Because I'm a girl? Or because I'm awkward and not pretty?" I bit my lip at the thought of my new team mates hating me.

Dad scoffed, "Really March? They need someone to turn the team around after not even making the playoffs last year. Girl or not, you've got the fight and you've got the talent. You have a funny side and a determined side, you ARE a pretty girl with a lot of effort. What's not to like?"

"Thanks dad."

We pulled into the parking lot at the arena, and we met Mr. Shero and Coach Bylsma at the door, and they led me into the locker room.

I wondered how I looked staring at my Converse sneakers and my huge blue UCLA hoodie hanging off my arms, my fingers gripping the sleeves.

There were about ten guys in the room. I bit my lip and took a shakey breath. "Alright," Coach Bylsma broke the silence. "Boys, you knew we were adding a new player to the roster, here's our new player."

I looked up, shock on some faces, sympathy on others. I felt tears filling my eyes, either they all felt bad for me, or wanted to get a good laugh at my expense.

Dad wrapped his arm around me, and I suddenly felt like a little kid again. One guy stood up. He had shaggy brown hair and a kind smile and some scruff. "I'm James Neal!" He seemed to have a happy personality. He made me a little more comfortable in the room.

I shook his hand, "I'm March Wilson. Uh my trainor do you know him? Kevin Harrison?"

His face was full of recognition. "Yeah! He was my trainor too! Oh my God you're THAT March Wilson? He was just finishing with me when he started with you!"

I smiled, "So I've heard."

James turned to the rest of the locker room of hockey players and said, "Guys she's actually REALLY amazing. I saw her play when she was like fifteen!"

Another seemed to be more comfortable now. "Don't mind him, he's just Neal. Happy guy. Not gay. I'm Sidney Crosby."

Sidney Crosby was shaking my hand? I was totally star struck. "Holy shit," I said softly.

He smiled and giggled, "What was that?"

"Um nothing!"

Sidney said, "You'll like it a lot here March! Hey Coach, does she have a stall yet?"

"No Staalsy's not here today."

Sidney rolled his eyes, which I'm pretty sure were hazelish. I could see hints of green and brown in them. He had messy curly hair, pretty adorable actually. I shook my head, I can't think of a team mate like that. I don't even KNOW him! "I mean like a cubby Coach!"

"Oh. No not yet. We're not skating today Sid."

He nodded introducing me to the rest of the team, or the team mates that were there anyway. Craig Adams, Matt Cooke, Pascal Dupuis, Tanner Glass, Tyler Kennedy, Brandon Sutter, Kris Letang, Paul Martin, Brooks Orpik, Marc Andre Fluery and Evgeni Malkin.

"I'm Marc Andre Fleury!" I shook the goal tenders hand. I always think of goalies as big guys. Not fat, but muscular and maybe about Sidney's height. Not too tall you know? Not Marc Andre. He's a lanky, skinny kid with a baseball cap sitting backwards on his head and sneakers. He's about three inces taller than Sidney, the one leading me around the locker room. Marc Andre Fleury looks a lot bigger on TV. All that gear will do that to you I guess.

"Hey I'm March Wilson." I shook his hand. "You're a great goalie."

He smiled. "Thanks. From what James has been saying the last few minutes, you're really great too." He had this nice French accent that made me smile for some reason. "Oh and I know you're all new and stuff, but we do a lot of pranks around here, watch your back!" Sidney laughed at that.

I smiled and said, "Cool! I can't wait to prank all of you!"

"Oooo." Marc Andre said. "Catch you later March! I'll get you good!"

"I'll get you back!" I called as he retreated.

Sidney and I laughed, "I'll help you get him!"

I smiled and gave him a high five. "Team work!"

Sidney smiled and I was intoduced to Evgeni Malkin. The strangest encounter of the day.

"Geno! This is March Wilson!" Sidney called.

A tall guy spun around, Jesus Christ he had to be like 6 foot 6! "I hear." He said coldly in a Russian accent.

I smiled, "Hello Evgeni."

He glared at me. "Hi."

Sidney said to me, "One second." He pushed Geno's shoulder and took him to the corner and said some words to him before voices were raised and Evgeni was talking angrily in Russian it appeared. Sidney looked lost, unable to communicate with the Russian hockey player.

Sidney came back over to me. "Sorry about... Him. Geno has bad days sometimes. We all do, but his are worse... Worse than others."

I nodded, and looked over at my dad who was making motions telling me to wrap it up.

"Alrighty then. Thanks for showing me around today Sidney! I really appreciate it! I have to go now." I told Sid.

He smiled, "Glad to be helpful. Before you go though can I maybe get your number, if you ever have questions about hockey or whatever."

I smiled, "Totally. Give me your phone." I pulled my battered phone out of my pocket and was pretty embarrased when I took his shiny black iPhone with not one finger print on it. I took it gingerly and put in my name and number, handing his phone back to him, and he gave my phone back to me.

Before I slipped it back in my pocket, James Neal was practically on top of me. "Can I have your number too? I wanna talk to you! You seem fun!"

I smiled at him and gave him my phone. "Sure!" He gave me his, which looked more like my phone than Sidney's. "Alright, thanks!"

Marc Andre was next, and I gladly gave him my number.

And as I drove to the hotel with my dad, I knew that my life was going to be pretty awesome.