Chapter 119: Chapter 119

The referee's hand hovered over the puck.

For one suspended heartbeat, the arena seemed to inhale as one.

Then—

The puck struck the ice.

Ryder and North Ridge's captain collided immediately, both sticks clashing with a sharp crack before the puck was kicked loose toward the boards.

Blake reached it first.

A crimson jersey slammed into him before he could turn.The impact rattled the glass which made the crowd gasped.

Blake absorbed the hit, dug the puck free with his skates and somehow managed to shovel it behind the net before losing his balance.

"Good play!" Coach Bennett shouted.

Western Helms recovered possession.

The puck circled from defense to offense in three crisp passes.

For a brief moment, it looked as though they had escaped the pressure, then North Ridge closed every lane again.

"They're everywhere," I whispered.

Mrs. Brooks didn't take her eyes off the ice.

"No."

She smiled faintly.

"They're exactly where they're supposed to be."

I watched more carefully and saw she was right.

North Ridge weren't faster.

They simply anticipated the next play better than everyone else. It was almost unsettling.

Every time Ryder looked up, someone in crimson was already waiting. Every passing option disappeared a split second before he could use it.

"They're reading him," I murmured.

"They're reading the game."

Mrs. Brooks corrected gently.

"And that's much harder to beat."

Below us, Ryder circled behind his own net, buying his teammates a few extra seconds.

He glanced toward the bench.

Coach Bennett made one quick gesture with two fingers. A signal.

Ryder nodded immediately and the breakout changed. Instead of forcing the puck through the middle, Western Helms used the boards.

One pass to another. The pressure eased.

Blake burst through the neutral zone with fresh speed which made the crowd sensed the opportunity and rose to its feet.

"Go!"

"Go!"

"Go!"

He crossed the blue line before dropping the puck to one of the defensemen joining the rush.

The shot came from the point.Traffic crowded the crease.The puck bounced once...

Twice...

Nobody could see it.

Ryder lunged and so did two North Ridge defenders.

Sticks tangled together as all three fought desperately for the rebound.

The official's whistle shrieked.The goalie had covered it.

A collective groan rolled through the arena.

"So close..." I breathed.

Ryder skated slowly toward the face-off circle, bending slightly with both hands resting on his stick.

His breathing looked heavier now and his chest rose and fell rapidly.

I noticed him flex his recovering hand once inside his glove.

Just once.

If I hadn't been watching him so closely...

I might have missed it.

A familiar knot tightened in my stomach.

"He's feeling it," I whispered.

Mrs. Brooks followed my gaze.

"He'll never admit it during the game."

"I know."

"But Coach probably already does."

That was the thing about Dad, he noticed everything.

Across the ice, Coach Bennett stood with his arms folded, watching Ryder instead of the puck.

Then he quietly spoke to one of the assistant coaches.

A fresh line climbed over the boards.

Ryder looked toward the bench, clearly expecting to stay on.

Coach pointed.

"Change."

For the briefest second, disappointment crossed Ryder's face.

Then it disappeared.

He tapped his stick once against the ice and skated straight to the bench without argument.

I smiled to myself.

Months ago...

He would've fought that decision.

But today...He trusted it.

Coach leaned toward him as he sat down.

"You good?"

Ryder nodded.

"I'm good."

Coach held his gaze another second.

"You don't have to win every shift."

"I know."

"You just have to leave enough in the tank to win the game."

Ryder smiled.

"I know."

Coach patted his shoulder once before turning back to the ice.

There was something almost comforting about watching them now.

Not because everything was perfect.But because they'd finally learned how to trust one another.

The fresh line immediately brought new energy.

Western Helms pressed higher.

The freshmen, inspired by the earlier goal, chased every loose puck as though the championship depended on it.

One of them forced a turnover deep inside North Ridge's zone.The crowd erupted again.

The puck slid toward the slot.

A quick wrist shot—

Blocked.

Another attempt—

Blocked again.

Western Helms refused to panic even though their captain wasn't on the ice.

"They've bought into his leadership," Mrs. Brooks said quietly, almost reading my thoughts.

"It doesn't disappear when he's resting."

I nodded while She smiled.

The clock ticked under three minutes remaining in the period.

The pace somehow increased instead of slowing.

Bodies collided.The glass shook repeatedly.

Every blocked shot drew louder cheers than the last and successful clearance felt like a small victory.

Then...

Western Helms captain returned.

The atmosphere changed almost instantly.

Not because anyone announced him. Because every player reacted.

Western Helms tightened while North Ridge spread wider.

Even Coach Bennett stepped closer to the boards.

The puck found him again near centre ice.This time Ryder met him immediately.

Neither player touched the puck for almost three seconds.

They simply battled. Shoulder against shoulder. Stick against stick. Neither was willing to give an inch.

The arena stood.

The sound of skates carving into the ice echoed beneath the roar of thousands of spectators.

Finally...

Ryder won.

With one powerful lift of his stick, he knocked the puck free before protecting it with his body.

The crowd exploded.

"Let's go!"

He accelerated through the neutral zone.One defender stepped up.

Ryder chipped the puck past him, another defender closed, he slipped between them.

For a heartbeat, the path to goal opened.

I found myself standing without realising it.

"Ryder..."

He reached the top of the circle.The goalie came out aggressively.

The arena held its breath.

Shoot.

Everything inside me screamed the same word.

Shoot.

Instead...

Ryder looked sideways.

His eyes found Blake flying down the opposite wing.

Without hesitation, he threaded a perfect pass across the crease.

Blake stretched...

His stick barely reached the puck.

The blade redirected it toward the open corner.

The goaltender threw himself across the crease.

The puck rolled...

Slower.

Slower.

Then...

Clang!

It struck the inside of the post.

The entire arena froze.

The puck trickled along the goal line...

Before spinning harmlessly away.

Blake dropped to one knee, grabbing the top of his helmet in disbelief.

Ryder skated past, laughing breathlessly despite the missed chance.

"So close!"

Blake shook his head.

"I thought it was in."

"So did I."

They bumped gloves as play continued.

No blame or frustration.

Just belief that another chance would come.

I looked down at my notebook and smiled before writing one final line beneath everything else.

"The score says 2–1."

"The game feels like it could belong to either team."

As the first-period clock slipped under its final minute, I realized something that sent a shiver through me.

This wasn't going to be a comfortable victory.

Western Helms wasn't just fighting North Ridge anymore.

They were fighting every doubt that had followed them since last season.

And somehow...

That battle looked even harder than the one happening on the ice.