Sleet Banshee by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

SEBASTIAN

Never get cocky. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now.

These California douchebags are bringing the heat tonight. Whatever kinks they had earlier this week, they’ve smoothed them out.

Luckily, my guys are matching their speed and intensity. It’s been nothing but high-stress, fast-paced skating, and non-stop attempts on goal.

I keep hearing Coach yell at me. I like to move. To play outside the goal, going to the puck. Coach knows this is how I play, and that I’m good, but he claims I’m responsible for most of his grey hair. I can’t help it, I play aggressive.

We went the entire game tied 0 – 0. Now there’s twelve seconds left on the clock in overtime.

We have the puck down at the other end of the ice, but unless they sink a shot in the next few seconds, we’re going into a shootout.

From my position, it’s hard to tell exactly what’s going down. But when the buzzer goes off, I know we didn’t score.

We’re out of time.

We’re headed into a shootout.

Oh, joy.