Finn
I'm so fucking sweaty.
I'm so fucking out of breath.
I'm so fucking happy.
This is the most fun I've ever had. This is why I play hockey.
I'm on the bench with Casey, the two of us breathing so hard that you'd think we're asthmatic grandpas. Playoff hockey is no joke. The game is twice as fast, both teams never giving an inch of wiggle room because we know that the opposing team will capitalize on it.
We're in Bakersfield, California for game 4 and we're tied 2-2 in the third period. We lost game three two days ago, but won the first two at home. I have scored in every game we've played including today, which feels fucking amazing. Something about being in high pressure games makes me play better for some reason. I'm more focused than ever and the crowd, whether its away or home, feeds my energy. But we really need to pull this one out so that they don't start a winning streak.
Winning that first game had to be the best fucking feeling I've ever had while on the ice. Nothing even comes close to topping it. It was such a desperation move that I didn't even have time to process what I was doing. Casey and I had jumped on the play right away and I had an abundance of confidence going into it. I had to think on my feet because that one defenseman that was between us was doing a great job of keeping us separated. I thought I would be able to knock it towards Casey once I got the defenseman off his feet, but when Casey got boxed off to the corner I started to panic.
Then it was all a blur. The backhand seemed like the best option but I knew I was an inch wide of the net before I even took the shot, so I dove for it as soon as it left my stick. I had my eye on the damn puck the entire time and just swiped at it, making sure I didn't touch the goalie in the odd chance it got in. The last thing I needed was for it not to count because of goalie interference.
I felt like I watched the puck go over the goal line in slow motion. It's like everything was silent to me as I was desperately trying to score, but as soon as I did all the noise came back and I was engulfed in utter chaos. The ice was vibrating with how loud the arena was and before I knew it, I was the subject of a huge pile made by my team.
My protective eye shield was fogged up from the sudden cluster of hot bodies that swarmed me, and my helmet was almost knocked off completely as I was roughed around harder than ever. But I couldn't care less. We were all shouting and cheering and having the fucking time of our lives, and I have never felt prouder of myself. I was proud.
When I got out of the clump, I couldn't help but scan the environment. Everyone was on their feet, high fiving each other and giving strangers hugs with pure excitement. It felt good that we were the reason that everyone was so hyped. They were excited because of what we did.
I knew it was a long shot, but I tried to search the section that Lily, our social media manager, told me she saw Avery in. I tried find that teal jersey of mine she had on, but there was no way I could find her. She was a good distance back and everyone was jumping around that I could barely see past the halfway point of the stands.
I took in the crowd one last time before I practically ran down the tunnel in my skates, all of us jumping around and letting out cheerful shouts and claps. No one even bothered to ridicule me when the first thing I did was tell one of the guys on our staff to get Avery, and then text her before I even put my stick down.
None of it felt like it actually happened. It all felt like a hallucination and I was so dazed as everyone piled into our dressing room. I just needed to see her. I needed to see and feel her because when I did, that's how I would know it wasn't a dream. I would know it wasn't one because I've learned is that the only thing that feels better than a dream is her.
The atmosphere for these games in unmatched. It's intimidating going to other arenas and playing during the playoffs, but even then it's exhilarating. If this is how crazy it gets in the minors, I don't even know what to expect in the NHL. I can't imagine it.
And to top off everything, I signed my official contract with the Sharks a few days ago. The attorney for the Thunderbirds looked it over with me and my agent - oh yeah I have an agent now.
His name is Sean and I met him when I was in the Junior League in Canada. I've always kept in touch with him so when I got drafted, I'd have someone I could trust.
The contact is an entry level standard, but the one thing that kind of made it feel real was the line that said once I dress for a San Jose game, I am no longer allowed to play for the Thunderbirds. I don't know why that hit me a little harder, since I knew that once I was in the NHL I wouldn't even want to go back to the minors, but for some reason it did. I love this team and I love Seattle, so just seeing in writing that I'll be finished with them next season felt really bazaar.
I blink a few times to get my head back into the game, my breathing substantially less borderline worrying now that I've been sitting for a few minutes. I take some of the water that's in the netting in front of me, keeping an eye on Jack as I wait for him to come back to the bench so that I can jump in.
I feel a hand the pads on my shoulder so I look back, seeing Ken leaning over Casey and I. We both turn our attention to him as he points towards the Condor's zone. "I got Povis stationed for a rocket on left wing. I need you both ready to deflect but steer clear of his initial shot, eh?"
We both nod, slipping our mouth guards into place as we see our men come back to the bench. Casey hits my arm right as we're going over the ledge. "I get right."
We depart without another word and jump right into the play. Our defensemen need to switch so I go to one of them who is holding the puck back behind the blue line and relieve him of it. Once I do, the rest of the guys change shifts and Drew Povis jumps on the ice. He starts off on the right side and hangs there, so I immediately know what to do.
I start to advance towards the Condor's end, keeping my strides long but wide as I try to keep the play as unpredictable as possible. As I start to glide towards the left side, I notice Povis start to discreetly make his way across the blue line, even after I'm passed it.
Once I can sense that he's behind me, I lift my stick and nudge it behind while looking towards Casey, faking out the defenseman in front of me who was anticipating the pass to go to him.
I take a long stride to get to the side of the net and away from where Povis is shooting from. That man does have a rocket shot and could easily break a leg with it, so we all try our best to stay out of the way of that.
I can see that the Condor's weren't anticipating for me to drop it back to Povis because they all go into desperation mode, putting their bodies in the way to try and block his shot. I hope for their sake it hits them in the pads.
Everything happens so quickly as Drew winds his stick back and slams it against the puck. It comes whizzing through the Condors on the ice, his aim pretty much impeccible. But I can see that it's a little high, so I act on instinct and take a step towards it, lifting my stick up to just below the crossbar of the goal, so that it's not considered a high stick, and wait for the puck there.
It deflects off my stick and bounces to Casey's feet, where he nudges it in right before the goalie can make the stop.
Fuck yeah!
Casey and I speed around the net and jump into each other, embracing as we body slam into one another.
"Let's go!" I shout, hitting the top of his helmet as Drew comes barreling it to us as well. Soon, everyone else is coming over and we all huddle together.
"We got this in the bag now, boys!" Drew shouts and that's when I look up at the time left in the game. Holy shit, there's only a minute left.
Talk about good timing.
I do find myself a little disappointed that the game is over already, though. These games are just flying by because of how fun and intense they get.
We head back to the bench, Casey leading the line as we bump fists with the rest of the guys on our team. When we sit back down, I shake my head with a chuckle of disbelief. I fucking love this feeling.
"I'd pay good money to see the girls right now," Casey says from beside me, nudging me with his shoulder.
"They're probably so drunk," I laugh along with him. Avery and Grace are having a girls night. And by that, I mean they're sleeping at Grace's apartment, getting wasted and doing other girl things. I don't know, I think Avery said they were going to watch old videos of One Direction or something.
But they also said they'd be watching our game, so that means they probably just downed a few shots at that goal.
I wish I could see it. I'm sure Casey and I will FaceTime them when we get back to the hotel, but still. I wish I was with her.
The Condors put up a good fight for the last minute of the game, but we still ended up winning. We're in a really good place to take this round, but I don't want to get myself too wrapped up. We still have a lot of work to do.
*
By the time we're done with press and showered, I am absolutely exhausted yet feel ready to go out and do it again. My body is heavy with fatigue and my muscles are sore from the game, but the adrenaline is still pumping through my veins. Another great thing about the playoffs is how well I sleep at night after a game.
We have about a half hour until we need to get on the bus back to the hotel, so there is no real rush when packing my things. Most of the team is still showering or getting ready, only Casey, Jack, and a few other guys in the dressing room as I get myself together.
I sit on the bench in front of my slot and pull out my phone for the first time, seeing that Avery had texted me.
Aves: what a STAR you are!! i'm so proud of you
Aves: i caught the gwg on my snapchat!! im so drunk!!
She also sent a photo of her and Grace, both of them raising their shot glasses up. Grace is behind her, obviously verbally cheering as her arm with the alcohol is raised in the air and her mouth is wide open. Aves is taking the picture, her eyes crinkled and grin spread as she laughs at whatever Grace is doing. I'm really fucking glad they have each other.
"Hey," I call over to Casey. He looks up from his bag and over to me with his brows raised. I just toss him my phone, which he catches once he drops the clothes he had in his hands. He turns it and looks at the photo, a laugh bubbling from his lips. "They're scary together."
"That's putting it nicely," I respond, catching the phone once he tosses it back. Jack now sits on the bench a few spots down, looking over to me. "When's your prom again?"
"Saturday," I respond absentmindedly as I text back Avery.
Finn: Jesus Christ
Finn: Be safe. I'll call you when I get to the hotel
I put my phone down, looking over to him. "And then graduation is a week from then."
Which means you only have a little over a week left with Avery.
I try not to dwell on the incredibly upsetting thought, rolling my lips into my mouth as I glance down to my calloused hands that are sitting in my lap.
I can't believe how fast this past month has gone. Granted, the past six months have flown by since meeting Avery, but this just takes it to a whole new level.
We had our last day of school the day before I left, which was just fucking weird. It's like everything got real that day and seeing Avery get teary as she hugged Cam at her locker felt like getting sucker punched in the throat. She's actually leaving.
Her room is stacked full of boxes. The two of us have been packing up her things and shipping them to her aunts house in New York, where they're going to be living until they rent an apartment. I know her mom is excited to get out of Seattle, but Avery isn't. And she's really been repressing it since she broke down the night we got home from Chicago.
I'm obviously not doing a great job at ignoring the lingering thoughts of her move, and the guys can tell. Casey sighs heavily before he sits next to me, gripping onto my shoulder. "Have you come up with a plan on when you're going to see her again?"
I nod, keeping my gaze trained to my hands. "Yeah, uhm-" I clear my throat when
my voice shakes. "I'm going to help her move into UCLA. The second week of August."
Though that made me feel better for a day or two, knowing when I'd see her next, now I'm back to doubting. What happens after that?
Once I leave LA, I'll be going to San Jose to move in myself and then it's pure NHL hockey. Then it gets even more complicated. Schedules get more complicated.
"What's the plan for when we get back to Seattle?" Jack asks now, crossing his arms over his broad chest and leaning back against the wall.
"Well, I'll see her tomorrow when we get back since the senior class is off from school. She's spending the night with me again," I explain, trying to hold onto the fact that I will be with her soon. Her mom has gotten very lax with us spending nights together, which is surprising but really, really relieving. Avery told me that she had a long talk with her and that her mom understands why we want to spend so much time together. I think her mom also knows how responsible Avery is, and that once August comes around she'll be living on her own across the country. I know a lot of 18 year olds aren't adults because of their immaturity, but Aves is different. "And then prom is the next day, and our friends rented a cabin for the night. I'll have to leave early though, obviously. For the game."
"Lucky we don't have a game that night," Casey adds, his brows raising as he looks at me.
"I know. I'm really relieved, honestly," I admit. "I don't give a shit about prom, but I know Avery just wants a night with us and our friends. I'd feel awful if I missed that."
She's done so much for me when it comes to going to different events. I know she doesn't mind, and that she's happy to be there with me, but it doesn't mean she hasn't gone above and beyond with it. I know that technically it's both of our prom, but she's been at the school since she was a Freshman while I only came this year. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure she has a special night.
I'm going to make sure the next week is perfect for her, too. There's so much we still have to do. There's so much I still want to tell her.
The two of them nod before they turn back to their things and continue to pack up but my mind is still so warped with hockey and Avery. The two things that make me the happiest.
I still have that adrenaline high coursing through my veins as I sit here. Honestly, all I want to do is go back out on the ice and skate. The adrenaline is overpowering the exhaustion at the moment so I feel like the energizer bunny.
I've always heard that loud crowds give you momentum and energy to play, and I have experienced that to an extent. There's a decent amount of Thunderbirds fans that come to the games throughout the year since there is no NHL team in Seattle, so I've definitely felt the excitement during the season. But playoff hockey is just different.
Even playing here has fed into the energy. Sure, we get booed and it can be intimidating when the Condors fans lay it on heavy with the shit talking, but it also is one of the best motivators I've had. I want to prove them wrong. I want to beat them on their home ice. I want to win.
I've been targeted from the first month being on the team. I'm always the one the bigger guys are going after and although it's frustrating, it's given me a thicker skin. What the other players say to me or what their fans scream while I'm walking down the tunnel just doesn't bother me anymore.
I'm pretty much all packed and done so I take out my phone again and put in my headphones as I go through some social media while I wait for Jack and Casey to finish getting their shit together.
I go to Snapchat first and see that Avery had posted in her story a few times. I click on it without hesitating and am immediately met with a picture of her and Grace.
Grace is hanging over her like a monkey, a bottle of tequila in her hand as Avery laughs. She captioned it, "I'm not responsible for the drunk snaps you will be seeing tonight."
I look at her for a second like a creep, an ache in my chest arising because of how much I miss her. It's only been five days yet it feels unbearable. I'm so fucked come next week.
She looks beautiful, as per-fucking-usual. She doesn't have any makeup on and has her just down with nothing done to it. I honestly love it the most when she's like that, but I know she enjoys getting herself put together. Besides, it's not like she's not absolutely breathtaking when she is.
The next snap is a video she took of Grace's computer, where they're watching the livestream of our game. It was when I scored, so it's showing the cluster my team made around me. The stream shows me as I skate towards the bench with a smile on my face and it's so weird seeing myself from that perspective. She then shows Grace, who is straight up drinking from the tequila bottle and Avery's loud laugh echoes through the room. I may or may not've watched the video back just to hear my favorite sound again.
The next video starts with her putting the phone down in front of the two of them, Grace's gaze fixated on the game as she starts to hit at Aves arm.
I immediately know it's the game winning goal she had mentioned getting and hear the commentator calling the play.
I'm smiling like a dumbass as I watch her watch the game intently, the two of them holding onto each other.
"Wilder descends slowly to the blue line, down the left side. He crosses over, subtle pass to Povis and glides to left side of net. Povis winds up, shoots-!" The two of them gasp and jump a little as the commentator calls the play, Avery's hand covering her mouth as she lets out a soft string of chants, "Come on-! Come on-! Come on-!!"
"Wilder deflects, to the feet of Kalinski, scores! Casey Kalinski! And it's 3-2 Thunderbirds with just a minute to go!"
You'd think we'd just won the cup with how quickly they jumped up, the two of them cheering and hugging onto each other as they let out loud and uncontrollable fits of laughter. My God, they are plastered.
She had captioned it with a crying emoji and, "Our boys won the game!"
I lick my lips to hide my embarrassing smile and reply to the story.
Finn: You're fucking adorable
I look up when I notice Ken walk into the dressing room with the rest of the team following behind him, which is strange. I take out my headphones and eye him carefully as he takes a folding chair towards the front of the room.
Casey and Jack also see him and the three of us glance at each other as we wait to see what he does. He comes over to us and puts the chair down, sitting backwards on it.
I get a nervous feeling in my gut as he faces me and I feel compelled to ask, "Everything okay, Coach?"
He nods as he looks at my friends before back at me. "You know who Viktor Petkov is?"
"Yeah, he's a forward for the Sharks, eh?" I ask, glancing at Jack for confirmation. Jack just nods, still looking as confused as I feel.
Ken nods too before saying, "He tore his achilles tendon during their game one against the Vegas Golden Knights tonight."
"Oh, brutal," Casey groans, but I'm still lost. That obviously really sucks, not just because the injury is no joke but it's also the first game of the playoffs. I'm just confused as to why he's telling us this?
"I just spoke to Davidson," he continues, referring to the coach of the Sharks. A smile grows on his face before he says, "He wants you now, Wild."
I... What did he...- Huh?
I'm not sure if anyone's saying anything because I can't hear a fucking thing. My jaw aches from being slacked and I feel like my heart isn't even beating anymore.
What does he mean.. he wants me now? What the fuck does that mean?
Why would he want me now? I'm still in the minors? I mean, I know I was drafted but.. that's next year. I'm in the minors right now.
"Finn?"
I blink a few times when I realize that Casey is right next to me now, his hand on my shoulder as he gives me a light shake. I look over to him with my brows furrowed deep. "...I'm confused."
"They want you up there to play, Finn," Casey says. I can tell he's trying to keep it together, but it's cracking as he rolls his lips into his mouth to hide his smile.
I swallow the lump in my throat as I look from him to my coach, then to Jack who's just full on grinning. "W-Why me?"
"You've scored in every game of the playoffs, Wild," Ken shrugs, as if this isn't fucking mind numbing. "And you've signed your contract already. You're good to go."
My contract.
"But.. If I go, I can't play for you anymore," I shake my head. What the fuck is happening? Is this a fucking dream? Am I even awake right now?
"Don't worry about us," Ken assures me, his stone cold face breaking a little bit with a smile. "It'll be a hit, but we'll manage."
Did I just play in my last Thunderbirds game?
The thought twists something deep inside of me. This team has become my second family, and I'm just leaving them? In the middle of the playoffs? That doesn't seem right.
"We'll be fine," Casey says now, his hand still clamped on shoulder as he shakes me lightly again. I look over to him, my brows still furrowed in confusion as I scan his face. I feel like I need to take in specific features to know that I'm not asleep. I need to make sure I'm awake right now. "You're going to the majors, dude."
Is this why people say to pinch them when things seem to good to be true?
My hand comes up to my face and I run it over the stubble on my chin, leaning back and bringing the other one up as well. I put my face in my hands for a moment, not knowing what to fucking do with myself. I'm playing in the NHL now?
I run my hands down my face as I glance at all of them, a chuckle of disbelief escaping me as I shake my head. Oh my God.
I'm playing in the NHL.
"What now?" I ask my coach. "What do I do? How do I prepare? I'm not ready-"
"You're ready, Wild. Trust me," Ken nods, not an ounce of doubt in his voice. I am? I really don't feel ready.
I feel like I could cry, not go play in a major league playoff game.
Holy shit. A playoff game. My first NHL game is going to be in the Stanley Cup Playoffs.
"And you're going to take a car back to the hotel and pack your things and get right back in it and to the airport," Ken instructs me, standing up from his seat. "It's a short flight. You'll be in San Jose by midnight."
Holy shit.
"Finny's going to the NHL!" Casey exclaims and that's when I remember that the rest of my team is back in here too. I'm suddenly engulfed in loud cheers as everyone claps and shouts an array of different things that I can't even hear. This isn't happening. This doesn't feel real.
I stand up because I don't know what else to do and Ken sticks his hand out to me. I shake it, my other hand running throughout my hair as he says, "It's been a pleasure coaching you, Wild. Now go call your family and tell them you won't be home for a while."
My fucking family.
"Thank you, Coach. For everything," I say sincerely. He just gives me a smile and a nods and lets go, starting to clap along with everyone else. I look around at everyone as my hand goes back over my mouth.
I have to call my mom and Morgan.
Fuck.
Avery.
I'm not going home.
I look at Casey with wide eyes and I know he's picked up on my train of thought. I'm going to fucking pass out.
I'm not going home.
I'm not going to see Avery before she leaves?
I try to smile at everyone as I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder, laughing along as they all shove me around as I try to get out the door the dressing room. I'll see them again once the seasons over I'm sure. I hope that's not denial speaking, though.
Once I'm out of the dressing room, I quickly make my way to the end of the long hall so I can take a second to evaluate what the fuck just happened. I drop my bag to the ground and start to pace, running my hands through my hair.
Okay, I'm playing in the NHL. I'm playing for the San Jose Sharks.
I'm leaving now. I'm going to San Jose instead of Seattle.
I'm missing prom and graduation. I'm missing Avery's last week.
Not only did I play my last Thunderbirds game, but I also saw Avery for the last time and didn't fucking know.
I was at her house before I left for the airport, holding onto her for the little time we had left. I was in her bed with her, her body molded into mine perfectly. Her cheek was pressed to my chest as her arm was wrapped tightly around me, our legs weaved and tangled with each other's. I had my arm tightly around her too, my cheek against her head. We were holding onto each other for dear life in the silence of her room, neither of us wanting to let go. It felt wrong to leave her.
That was the last time I'm going to see her? When she said goodbye to me at the door, her arms wrapped around my neck as she kissed me deeply, her tongue moving against mine for at least two minutes - that was the last time I was going to kiss her?
Fuck.
"Finn?"
I swallow the dry lump that seems to have made its permanent residence in my throat as I turn and look back at Casey and Jack. The two of them are eyeing me like I'm a ticking time bomb.
I run my hands down my face as I say, "I'm excited to play, you have to believe me. But-"
I can't even say her fucking name. How am I at the point where saying her name hurts?
"Avery," Jack finishes my thought. My hand covers my mouth as I nod, letting in a shaky breath. I cross one of my arms across my chest and lean the elbow of my other one on it, gesturing to them. "I'm going to miss everything."
"Finn-" Casey starts, but I'm already pacing again and my mind is going into overdrive.
"How the hell am I going to tell her? What do I say? I know she'll be happy for me, but I'm not going home. I'm not going to be there when she leaves. I'm going to miss graduation and- holy fuck. I'm not going to see her. I'm not going to see her."
Not to mention that I will be playing in the fucking National Hockey League. That just doesn't feel real yet. That'll hit me tomorrow or something.
"Finn," Casey urges, putting his hands on my shoulders to stop me from moving. I look at him with wide eyes as Jack comes and stands next to us, both of them trying to calm me down. "I know this is coming out of left field, but you're going to figure it out. Yeah, she'll be upset but she'll also be happy for you."
"And it's not like you'll never see her again," Jack tries now. "You have a plan, but maybe you could revamp to see her a bit sooner."
It feels like I'll never see her again.
But I've always been told that I'm a pessimist. And dramatic.
"Wilder!" Casey and Jack turn around to look at Ken, who is down the hall. He throws his arms out to the side. "What are you doing?! Go to the hotel and get your ass to San Jose!"
"I'm going!" I call back, before turning my attention back to Casey and Jack, my voice much smaller. "I'm going."
"You're going to be great, Finn," Casey encourages me. "We'll see you when you get back."
I huff as I look at my two best friends. I'm going to miss playing with them, even though Jack will be in San Jose next season. But playing with them on the Thunderbirds is my safe place. It's going to be really weird moving on from that.
They're taken by surprise when I hook my arms around their necks and being them into a hug.
They both chuckle as their wrap an arm around me, Jack saying, "Oh, he's gotten soft."
"Gotten? He's always been soft."
I roll my eyes as I hold onto them for a moment longer, but then shove them off me.
"Go get 'em, tiger," Casey grins at me as I start to back away. I pick my bag up from the floor and let out a deep breath as I turn away from there and start to head out the door of the rink.
Holy shit. I'm going to San Jose.