Chapter 134 Chapter 134

Chapter 134 Chapter 134
The scoreboard refused to change.
Western Helms 0
Crescent Academy 0
Nearly half the first period had slipped away, yet neither team had managed to break through.
The silence between whistles had become almost unsettling.
Not because the crowd wasn't loud.
They were.
But every time someone entered the offensive zone, the entire arena seemed to hold its breath.
Waiting and wondering.
Who would make the first mistake?
I lowered my pen for a moment, watching Ryder glide back toward the bench after another relentless shift.
His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths as Coach Bennett handed him a water bottle.
Coach Berkeley leaned over the boards, eyes fixed on Crescent's defensive setup.
"They're cheating toward Ryder every time he crosses the blue line."
Coach Bennett never looked away from the ice.
"I know."
Coach Berkeley folded his arms.
"They've accepted he'll beat the first defender."
"They're counting on stopping the second option."
Coach Bennett finally nodded.
"So let's give them a third."
Coach Berkeley's lips curled into a faint smile.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
Just two coaches who knew each other well enough to speak in half sentence.
Ryder skated closer.
Coach Bennett met his eyes.
"They're reading you."
"I know."
"So let them."
For a split second Ryder frowned.
Then...
Understanding settled across his face.
"You want me to draw them in."
Coach Bennett nodded once.
"They're waiting for you to force the play."
Ryder's smile was almost invisible.
"I won't."
Coach Berkeley tapped the boards with two fingers.
"The weak side is opening every shift."
Lucas, who had been listening while adjusting his gloves, raised an eyebrow.
"You mean..."
Coach Berkeley pointed subtly toward the far boards.
"When Ryder pulls three green jerseys with him..."
"...someone else becomes invisible."
Lucas grinned.
"I like invisible."
Coach Bennett stepped back.
"Then go make them pay."

\~~~
I watched Ryder hop over the boards again.
Something had changed.
Not in his skating but in his patience.
He wasn't attacking every inch of open ice anymore.
He was studying it.
Across the rink, Noah noticed.
I saw it in the slight tilt of his head.
Captains recognized when another captain was thinking.
The puck reached Ryder near center ice.
Immediately...
Two Crescent players shifted toward him.
Exactly as they had all game.
Ryder accelerated and the crowd erupted.
"Go!" someone screamed behind me.
He crossed the blue line with explosive speed, carrying the puck toward the left circle.
Three green jerseys collapsed around him.
Just like before.
Just like Crescent wanted.
Except...
This time Ryder never intended to shoot.
At the very last second, he slipped a blind backhand pass behind him.
The puck slid untouched into open ice.
Lucas arrived out of nowhere.
"Oh!" Sofia gasped beside me.
"He was wide open!"
Coach Berkeley didn't celebrate.
Not yet.
Lucas stepped into the puck.
One stride then another.
The goaltender shifted desperately across the crease.
Lucas drew his stick back.
The entire arena rose to its feet.
Then—
A green stick flashed across the shooting lane.
The puck deflected off the defender's blade, skipping harmlessly into the corner.
A collective groan echoed through the Western Helms supporters.
Lucas slapped his stick lightly against the ice.
"So close."
Noah didn't even look at the blocked shot.
Instead, he pointed toward the corner.
"Recover!"
Immediately, two Crescent players attacked the loose puck. They trusted one another completely.
"They never panic," I whispered as my pen flew across the page.
Even under pressure...They stayed organized.
It reminded me of something Coach Bennett once told Ryder months ago.
Pressure doesn't create character.
It reveals it.
Play continued without a whistle.
The pace somehow became even faster.
Western Helms pressed higher.
Crescent answered immediately.
One rush.
Then another. Back and forth.
Neither team willing to surrender an inch.
Jake threw his body in front of a blistering slap shot.
The puck struck his shin pads with a sickening thud.
He stumbled and winced.
Then got right back into position before anyone could notice.
From the stands, I caught myself holding my breath again.
These boys weren't just playing hockey anymore.
They were protecting everything they'd fought for since the first day of the season.
Beside me, Sofia leaned forward so far I thought she might fall over the railing.
"I don't think I can survive this game."
"You and me both."
....

At the next stoppage, the referee skated toward center ice with one hand raised.
"Penalty!"
The arena instantly erupted into chatter.
I searched for the official's signal.
Holding.
Against Crescent Academy.
Western Helms would have the first power play of the afternoon.
Coach Berkeley was already reaching for the special-teams unit before the announcement had even finished echoing through the arena.
Coach Bennett remained composed.
Ryder climbed over the boards, rolling his shoulders as he listened.
Across the ice...
Noah gathered his penalty killers into a tight circle.
He spoke quietly and his teammates nodded once.
Then broke apart.
Ready.
I uncapped my pen again.
The biggest opportunity of the game had just arrived.

\~~~
The referee skated to the faceoff circle, the puck resting in his palm as players took their positions.
A low murmur rolled through the arena.
Western Helms had their chance.
Coach Berkeley stood behind the boards, his gaze never leaving the ice.
"Set it up," he called calmly.
"No hero plays."
Ryder tapped his stick once against the ice.
"You heard him."
The linesman dropped the puck.
Ryder won the draw cleanly, sending it back to Jake at the blue line. Jake wasted no time.
Across to Evan and back to Jake.
The puck moved quickly around the perimeter while Crescent held their tight penalty-killing box.
"They're not chasing," Sofia observed beside me.
"They're making Western Helms work for every pass."
She was right.
Every lane closed almost as soon as it opened.
Every shooting angle disappeared beneath a wall of green jerseys.
Ryder circled along the half boards, scanning the ice.
Noah shadowed him from the middle, his stick stretched just enough to discourage a cross-ice pass without fully committing.
Two captains.
One reading.
The other waiting.
Ryder slid the puck back to Jake.
Jake faked a slap shot. Two defenders flinched.
Instead of shooting, he slipped it down low to Lucas behind the net.
Lucas immediately returned it to Ryder.
Quick, simple and purposeful
The Crescent penalty killers shifted again.
Exactly as Coach Bennett had predicted.
Three green jerseys drifted toward Ryder.
For the first time all afternoon...
The weak side opened.
Coach Berkeley leaned forward.
"Now."
Ryder never looked. He trusted.
With one smooth motion, he fired a pass through the seam.
The puck zipped across the slot.
Lucas arrived at precisely the right moment.
The goalie lunged across the crease.
Lucas didn't rush.
He pulled the puck an extra inch.
The goaltender slid past.
The net opened.
Lucas snapped his wrists.
THWACK!
The puck ripped into the back of the net.
For half a heartbeat...
Silence.
Then—
The arena exploded.
Blue towels spun wildly above cheering fans.
Students leapt from their seats.
The Western Helms bench emptied onto the boards, sticks pounding against the glass in celebration.
"GOAL!"
Sofia screamed so loudly I actually jumped.
"I KNEW IT!"
I laughed despite myself, my heart hammering as I hurriedly scribbled into my notebook before I forgot the moment.
Patience created the opening.
Trust finished it.
Lucas threw both fists into the air before Ryder reached him first.
Instead of celebrating himself, Ryder wrapped an arm around Lucas's shoulders, laughing as the rest of the line crashed into them.
"You were invisible," Ryder shouted over the noise.
Lucas grinned from ear to ear.
"They forgot about me."
"No..."
Ryder shook his head with a smile.
"They couldn't."
The announcement echoed through the arena.
"Goal for Western Helms Academy!"
"Scored by number seventeen, Lucas Van!"
"Assisted by Ryder Hayes and Jake Morrison!"
The crowd cheered again.
Across the ice, Crescent gathered near their crease.
No heads dropped or frustration or blame.
Noah skated quietly toward his goaltender.
He tapped the crossbar with his stick.
Then looked at each teammate.
"We're fine."
His voice never rose.
"We knew it wouldn't be perfect."
A defenseman sighed.
"That's on me."
"No."
Noah shook his head.
"That's hockey."
He pointed toward center ice.
"Next shift."
The players nodded.
Just like that...
They moved on.
I couldn't help staring.
Most captains celebrated goals.
Some captains yelled after conceding them.
Noah did neither.
He simply kept his team together.
Beside me, Sofia noticed my expression.
"What?"
I lowered my pen.
"I understand now."
"Understand what?"
"Why Coach Bennett respects them so much."
The puck dropped again.
If Western Helms expected Crescent to panic...
They were disappointed.
...

The Wolves responded immediately.
Their forecheck became sharper and their passes quicker.
Within two minutes, Ethan made two difficult glove saves, each one drawing louder applause than the last.
Coach Berkeley folded his arms.
"They've increased the pressure."
Coach Bennett nodded.
"They're testing our composure."
On the ice, Ryder clapped his stick against the boards.
"Talk!"
His teammates answered instantly.
"Left!"
"Boards!"
"Behind you!"
Communication echoed across the ice.
The Titans weren't just skating anymore.
They were thinking together.
The semifinal had become exactly what everyone expected.
Not a battle of talent. A battle of discipline.
As the final minutes of the first period ticked away, I glanced at the scoreboard.
Western Helms 1
Crescent Academy 0
One goal separated them.
Just one.
But somehow...
It felt far smaller than the hockey they were playing.
Deep down, I knew this game wasn't finished.
Not even close.
And judging by the determined look in Noah Whitmore's eyes as he lined up for the next faceoff...
He knew it too.