"Ethan, tie your skates tighter.
You know what happens when you get lazy with the laces,Coach Grant barked from across the locker room.
Ethan sat on the bench, sweat already damp on his forehead though the game had not even started.
He gave a short laugh.
"Coach, if I tie them any tighter, I'll cut off my circulation.
"Better that than slipping on the ice in front of the whole town," Coach shot back, his arms crossed, but his eyes softened.
From the corner, teammate Carter leaned over.
"Relax, Kane. You skate like a storm out there.
This town could be blindfolded and they'd still know you were on the ice.
"Yeah, sure," Ethan said, pulling at his gloves.
His fingers flexed against the leather, nerves prickling in his chest.
"You know what tonight means.
Carter grinned.
"Scouts in the stands, the spotlight on our golden boy.
No pressure.
Ethan rolled his eyes, "Thanks for the reminder.
The room buzzed with energy, helmets clinking, the smell of sweat and tape filling the air.
Teammates slapped shoulders, some joking, others whispering prayers under their breath.
"You're overthinking again," Carter added, lowering his voice.
"Play your game, Ethan.
That's all you need.
Ethan looked at him, then at the logo on his jersey.
"My game,yeah.
The door swung open, and the sound of fans roared in,
The announcer's voice echoed faintly through the walls.
The coach clapped his hands once.
"Alright boys, time to show Silver Ridge why they fill those seats., Let's go.
The team rose as one, Sticks slapped against the ground in unison, helmets tucked under arms, and a wave of determination surged through the group.
Ethan pushed himself to his feet, his stomach tight with nerves, but also something deeper, something that felt like destiny waiting just beyond the rink doors.
As they walked down the tunnel, Carter leaned in.
"Have you ever thought about how much weight this town puts on you?
"All the time," Ethan replied honestly.
"But I try not to think too hard about it.
"That's impossible for you," Carter teased.
The lights hit them before the cold air did.
The rink gleamed under spotlights, the ice freshly cut and perfect.
Fans packed the stands, banners waving, faces painted in the town colors.
The sound was deafening, a steady chant of names, a sea of hope pressing down on the players.
Ethan skated out, the first stride sharp, the blade slicing through ice with precision.
His body relaxed the moment he felt the glide, the shift of weight, the control.
Here, he was not haunted.
Here, he was exactly who everyone believed him to be.
"Look at that stride," Carter said as they lined up for the warm-up.
"Smooth as ever.
"You think scouts notice that?" Ethan asked.
"They notice everything," Carter replied.
"Just don't give them a reason to doubt you.
The whistle blew.
The game was about to begin.
The opposing team skated in with dark jerseys, faces set with determination.
Ethan locked eyes with their captain for a brief moment. Challenge, Threat and Promise.
The coach leaned in from the bench.
"Kane, first shift, you're leading.
Ethan nodded, heart pounding.
"Got it.
The puck dropped, and the world narrowed.
Skates cut into the ice, bodies collided, and Ethan was moving, chasing, weaving.
The puck touched his stick, and the crowd erupted.
He passed to Carter, darted between defenders, and then received it back with perfect timing.
"Shoot it!" Carter shouted.
Ethan drew back and fired.
The puck slammed against the goalie's pad, ricocheted, and slipped into the net.
Goal.
The arena exploded.
Fans screamed his name, banners shook, and the announcer's voice thundered through the speakers.
"Kane with the first goal of the night! Silver Ridge leads!
Ethan's teammates surrounded him, sticks tapping his helmet, shouts of pride echoing.
His chest burned with adrenaline, but his eyes lifted just beyond the glass.
For a brief second, he thought he saw a girl.
A girl, in the stands, hair loose, eyes steady.
He blinked, and she was gone, or maybe she had never been there.
"Focus, Ethan," Carter hissed, dragging him back to the bench.
"We need you in this game.
"Yeah," Ethan muttered, shaking his head. "I'm here.
The game raged on, fast and brutal.
Opponents slammed him against the boards, his muscles ached, his lungs burned.
Yet every time the puck came near, he was alive. He scored again in the second period, the crowd rising to its feet.
But between shifts, his thoughts wandered.
He remembered the sound of engines, the roar of the open road, the world he had left behind.
He shoved it down, burying it under the roar of the crowd.
The coach caught his eye.
"You're carrying this team tonight, Kane.
Keep it going.
"Yes, Coach," Ethan said, though inside he wondered if he could ever stop carrying everything.
By the final period, Silver Ridge was leading.
The chants grew louder, echoing like thunder.
Ethan fought for every inch of ice, sweat dripping, muscles screaming.
When the final buzzer blared, the scoreboard lit with victory.
The crowd surged, fans pressed against the glass, and teammates tackled Ethan in celebration.
Carter laughed, shaking him by the shoulders.
"That's it, Kane! You're unstoppable!
The team skated off together, jerseys soaked, breath heavy, hearts pounding.
In the locker room, the air was electric with victory.
The coach entered, clapping slowly, pride shining on his face.
"That is what Silver Ridge hockey looks like.
That is what scouts want to see.
And Kane, that was a performance worth remembering.
Ethan forced a smile.
"Thank you, Coach.
Teammates cheered, some spraying water bottles in the air, others chanting his name.
But Ethan sat quietly, his eyes on the floor, the sound of engines faint in his memory.
Carter dropped beside him. "Why do you look like someone stole your win?
Ethan rubbed his hands over his face.
"Just tired.
"You've been tired since the day I met you," Carter said, nudging him with his elbow.
"But tonight, you gave this town what they needed.
Scouts, fans, your family… they're all going to be talking about you.
Ethan nodded slowly.
"Yeah, maybe.
Carter studied him.
"Are you ever going to tell me what really weighs on you?
Ethan's gaze drifted to the wall, where a faded team photo hung.
"Not tonight.
Carter sighed.
"One day, Kane, you'll have to.
The locker room emptied gradually, voices fading down the hall.
Ethan sat a moment longer, the victory still buzzing in his veins, yet something hollow tugged at his chest.
He stood, grabbed his bag, and walked toward the exit.
The night air was sharp, filled with the scent of pine and frost. Fans waited outside, cheering, calling his name, asking for autographs.
He smiled, signed jerseys, posed for photos, though his eyes searched the crowd.
And there, by the edge of the parking lot, he saw her again.
Riley Storm.
Her gaze met his, steady, unreadable.
For a moment, it felt like the roar of the crowd fell silent.
She turned, disappeared into the shadows, leaving him standing with a question in his chest.
"Ethan," Carter called from behind, waving him toward the bus.
"Come on, golden boy. Don't make me drag you.
Ethan tore his eyes away from the darkness. "Yeah, I'm coming."
But the image of Riley lingered, refusing to fade.
And deep inside, Ethan knew the real game was only just beginning.