65. KAVI

65

KAVI

I don't think I'm functioning right now. A whirlwind of butterflies has taken flight in my body.

Did he…

Was that…

An I love you?

We've been almost inseparable these last few weeks, but I'd also internalized the Dmitri does not do girlfriends sentence enough to not imagine this…

I love you.

As in…

Love that you are here? Love you in this moment of wild exhilaration where everything feels heightened, making you love everything and anyone? Or was it an I love-you I-love-you?

He needs to explain!

In front of us, the game is off to a scorching start, both teams firing at full-strength.

Dmitri is brutal on the ice, corralling the puck whenever it goes near their net. Every time he gets possession, the Blades have to send two of their players to cage him in?—

But the Wings have also adapted. They are working incredibly as a team. Their passes are quick and the interceptions are few.

The first period ends with a goal by Matt. Second period, the Blades hit back hard. They tie the score.

Last period, both teams attack.

"He's playing differently," says Mr. Lokhov, who is also watching with us. His arms cross.

I tense, waiting for the admonition. I'm ready to defend Dmitri, even if it means having a go at his dad.

"Better," he admits with a contemplative frown.

"He's the best. Even if he loses tonight, he's the best."

"You love him," whispers Sonya.

I do.

But I'm not thinking about that right now. I can't.

Tyler is getting more belligerent on the ice. There's a penalty. Referees catch Tyler trying to trip Hughes.

The other team is a player down. The Wings can lead if they take advantage of this power play. My throat constricts, watching Hughes and Lokhov sync on the ice. They're pushing forward hard. There's a shot on net. It goes wide, but Dmitri is there to keep it in play. He passes to Emmad, who passes to Hughes, who passes back to Dmitri, who waits for a screen to develop, and then rips a shot at the net?—

It's a goal!

The Wings are up by one, and it's only a few minutes left in the third period.

Tyler is back on the ice, more desperate than ever. My dad is yelling at him, because he's dropped gloves. Instead of playing, he's charging toward Dmitri.

My stomach drops to the ground. I'm crying out loud because the look on Tyler's face is so vicious. He's picking up speed, aiming to crash into Dmitri?—

He can't. His knee.

He doesn't. The Wings won't let him. They've formed a wall protecting their player.

Tyler can't get through. His own team yanks him back, clearly tired of his behavior. He's sent to the bench.

It's too late anyway, even when the Blades pull out their goalie. Whatever last second surge the other team tries, the Wings survive.

They win the Cup!