Her Feet in His Skates

After the brutal first few practices, it's finally time for the first of a twenty-seven game season. The first of five before winter break.
Halway through the third period, I'm skating through center ice, calling for the puck on Carter's stick. He quickly snaps the puck to where I'll be and I shoot it top shelf, right over the goalie's shoulder.
But Carter doesn't see the defender speeding toward him until it's too late.
----
"Good to see you're not dead. Can we go now?" Third says as Carter wakes up in his hospital bed.
"Third! The boy just woke up from a grade III concussion." I say and Carter curses loudly as I say grade III: the worst possible concussion.
"Well it's asta la bye-bye for Third," he calls on his way out.
"Third!"
"Asta la fucking bye bye!"
"How long was I out?" Carter whispers.
"Well you were out by the time I got to you. That was the third period. The game went on and I just got here ten minutes ago; about a half hour probably." He slams his head back on the pillow but then yelps in pain, "Dumbass, you're not supposed to do that!"
----
The bright side to Carter being out is that in the four games before break, I get moved to center and Third's my new winger.
However, a week after break is over, despite all the scoring I had done, beating out the first line in points per game as the third line centerman, I get moved back to the left of Carter.
And that's how it goes for the rest of the season.
----
"That was the best game ever. It was awesome getting to see four brothers playing together again. Especially as Allstars," I say, crammed into the middle of a group hug of all five of my brothers. Although Eric and Mark didn't play in the actual Allstar Game that was held in Boston this year, they were voted as Rookie Allstars. So, they competed in the Skills Competition.
We spend the next few hours talking and we all stay fully engaged in the conversation, until Carter's name comes up, "So, Carter came back from his concussion?" Mark asks, ignoring the other four tensing around him. I sigh and nod. The only one who knew that was Jordan because no one else's team has a game against the Bruins until after the allstar break.
"Coach put me back on his left when he came back a week after winter break," I huff, frustration of that mid-season practice returning.
"You just need a distraction from that jackass. Stop letting him get under your skin," Jordan says simply. "Oh, Michael bailed on me for the game Monday, I figured you and Third could go instead?" He asks, pulling a couple tickets out of his wallet. I smile and nod, taking the tickets from him and dropping them on my desk.