Jake woke up on Friday morning feeling like he was about to either throw up or die. Possibly both. His college hockey game was in twelve hours, and his stomach was doing gymnastics routines that would impress Olympic judges.
"Dude, you look like shit," Danny observed from across the room, where he was getting ready for his morning classes like a normal human being who wasn't about to embarrass himself in front of thousands of people.
"Thanks for the pep talk."
"I'm serious though, you need to eat something or you're gonna pass out on the ice."
Jake's phone had been buzzing all morning with good luck messages. His dad called twice, the group chat was going insane with encouragement, and even some people he barely knew were texting him.
Sophie: break a leg tonight! well maybe not literally since its hockey
Tyler: dude I'm bringing like 20 people to watch you play
Emma: so proud of you! we'll be cheering loud
Alex: remember what I told you. just play hockey.
And one message that made his stomach twist in a different way:
Ashley: cant wait to watch you play tonight. you're going to be amazing
Jake had been trying to figure out what Ashley's deal was all week. She kept showing up to places he was, always with some excuse about running into him by accident. Yesterday she'd been at the coffee shop when he went to study. Tuesday she'd been at the gym when he was working out. It was probably just coincidence, but it felt... weird.
"You coming to breakfast or just gonna stare at your phone all morning?" Danny asked.
The dining hall was buzzing with more energy than usual. Word had gotten around that Jake was starting, and apparently that was bigger deal than he'd realized. People he'd never talked to were wishing him luck.
"Jake!" Mia practically tackled him as he sat down with his tray of food he probably wouldn't be able to eat. "I'm so fucking excited for tonight. I've never been to a hockey game."
"It's just hockey," Jake said, pushing scrambled eggs around his plate.
"Just hockey?" Kyle appeared behind him, looking offended. "Dude, hockey is like the most badass sport ever. People literally fight each other with sticks."
"Very reassuring, thanks."
Emma sat down with her usual healthy breakfast that made Jake's dining hall choices look pathetic. "You're gonna do great. And if you don't, we'll still be proud of you for trying."
"Again, very reassuring."
"I brought noisemakers," Tyler announced, producing what looked like the world's most obnoxious air horn from his backpack.
"Please don't use that," Jake begged.
"Oh, I'm definitely using this."
Sophie appeared at their table looking beautiful as always, but also carrying what appeared to be a poster.
"Please tell me that's not what I think it is," Jake said.
She unrolled it with a grin. It was a huge sign that said "SULLIVAN #23" in bright blue letters with little hockey sticks drawn around it.
"Sophie, no."
"Sophie, yes. I made it last night. Took me three hours."
Jake felt something warm and terrifying in his chest. She'd spent three hours making him a sign for a game that might end with him completely embarrassing himself.
"You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, which made his brain stop working for a few seconds. "Besides, I need everyone to know which player is mine."
"Yours?" Jake asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Sophie blushed. "I mean... you know what I mean."
The table went quiet for a second, everyone looking between Jake and Sophie like they were watching the most interesting tennis match ever.
"Aww," Mia said, breaking the silence. "You guys are disgustingly cute."
"Seriously," Tyler added. "It's like watching a Disney movie."
Jake's phone buzzed again. Ashley.
Ashley: good luck today. dinner after the game? win or lose?
Jake stared at the message, then looked up at Sophie, who was chatting with Emma about something completely oblivious to his phone.
Jake: thanks but probably gonna be exhausted after the game
Sophie: rain check then. maybe this weekend then?
Jake put his phone away without responding.
The hours between breakfast and game time passed like some kind of weird time warp where everything felt both too slow and too fast. Jake went to his classes but didn't absorb a single thing any professor said. His afternoon nap turned into him staring at the ceiling for two hours thinking about all the ways he could screw up.
At 5 PM, he headed to the rink for a pre-game prep. The locker room felt different than it had during practice - more serious, more focused. Guys were going through their individual rituals: Alex was listening to Finnish metal that sounded like robots having an argument, Brad was taping and retaping his stick for the fifth time, and Kevin was doing some kind of meditation thing that involved a lot of deep breathing.
"You got any pre-game rituals?" Alex said, pulling off his headphones.
"Not dying?"
"That's a good start."
Coach Peterson walked in looking like he was about to lead them into battle. "Gentlemen, State thinks they can come into our house and embarrass us. They think we're just some small college team that's gonna roll over for them."
The room was dead silent.
"They're about to find how wrong they are."
Peterson went through the game plan one more time, then left to finish getting ready. Jake's hands were shaking slightly as he laced up his skated.
"Hey," Alex said quietly, "you remember what I told you about the puck not caring if you're nervous?"
"Yeah."
"Well, the crow doesn't care either. And neither do the other players. They just care if you play hockey. And you can."
Twenty minutes later, Jake was standing in the tunnel, waiting to take the ice for warm-ups. He could hear the crowd already - way more people he'd expected for a Friday night college game.
"Holy shit," someone behind him whispered.
Jake peeked out and saw the stands were packed. There had to be at least three thousand people there, and the noise was incredible.
Then he spotted his friends. Tyler was indeed holding his obnoxious air horn, Emma had painted her face with blue and white, Mia was wearing what appeared to be a hockey jersey that was three sizes big, and Sophie was front row with her sign, looking nervous but excited.
"Showtime," Alex said, skating past him onto the ice.
The crowd erupted as the team took the ice for warm-ups. Jake had played in front of crowds before, but nothing like this. The energy was electric, and he could feel it in his bones.
Warm-ups helped calm his nerves. Just skating around, taking shots, getting loose - it all felt familiar and right. By the time they headed back to the locker room for Peterson's final speech, Jake was feeling more like himself.
"Sullivan," Peterson pulled him aside as they were heading back out for the game. "You feel ready?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. because I'm not starting you to be nice. I'm starting you because you're the best option we have. Don't overthink it, just play your game."
The national anthem felt like it lasted forever. Jake stood on the blue line, looking up at the crowd, trying to spot his friends again. Sophie caught his eye and held up her sign, giving him a smile that made all his nerves disappear.
The puck dropped, and Jake's world narrowed to the ice.
The first shift was chaos. State came out aggressive, trying to establish dominance early. Jake barely touched the puck, but he didn't embarrass himself, which felt like a victory.
His second shift, he got his first real chance. A loose puck in the corner, and Jake beat two defenders to it, sending a perfect pass to Alex, who buried it top shelf.
The crowd went insane. Jake's friends were jumping up and down like maniacs, and Sophie was screaming so loud he could hear her over the whole arena.
"Nice pass, rookie!" Alex yelled, crashing into Jake for the celebration.
The game was back and forth, physical as hell, exactly what college hockey was supposed to be. Jake was playing well - not spectacular, but solid. He was holding his own against guys who'd been playing college hockey for years.
Midway through the second period, he got his moment.
A rebound came right to him in the slot, the goalie was down, and Jake had half the net to shoot at. Time slowed down, and he could almost hear his high school coach telling him to pick a corner and fire.
He picked top shelf, glove side.
The red light went on, and the arena exploded.
Jake's first college goal, and it had put them ahead 2-1.
His teammates mobbed him, the crowd was on its feet, and when he looked up at the stands, he saw Sophie jumping up and down with tears in her eyes, holding her sign above her head.
Tyler's air horn was so loud it was probably violating noise ordinances in three states.
They won 3-2. Jake finished with a goal and an assist, played almost twenty minutes, and didn't make any major mistakes. As the team celebrated on the ice, Jake felt something he hadn't felt since high school - like he belonged exactly where he was.
"Hell of a game, kid" Brad said, smacking his helmet.
After the handshake line and the team celebration, Jake was finally able to find his friends. They'd waited by the rink exit, and when he walked out still in his gear, they erupted in cheers.
"THAT WAS SO FUCKING AMAZING!" Tyler yelled, immediately getting shushed by approximately everyone within fifty feet.
Emma hugged him first, then Mia, then Kyle, who lifted him off the ground.
Sophie hung back until the others were done, then stepped forward with her sign.
"So," she said, "I guess this belongs to the goal scorer now."
"You made that for me," Jake said.
"I did."
"Before you even knew if I'd be any good."
"I had faith."
Jake looked at this girl who'd made him a sign, who'd screamed herself hoarse cheering for him, who was looking at him like he'd just conquered the world instead of just playing a hockey game.
"Sophie?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm falling for you."
She smiled, the kind of smile that made Jake forget there were other people around. "Good, because I'm already there."
As his friends continued celebrating around them, Jake leaned down and kissed Sophie right there in the hallway outside the rink, still wearing his hockey gear, still sweating, still riding the high of his first college goal.
His phone buzzed in his bag with what was probably another congratulatory message, but for once, Jake didn't check it.
He had everything he needed right there.