The Storms, outnumbered on the ice, fought off the Marauders as best they could. But the other team pounded off shots until one squeaked past Ana. The Marauders were up 2–1.
Kyla slid out of the penalty box, and Coach Adams motioned for a line change. “What were you doing out there, Woodson?” Coach said as Kyla hopped into the players’ bench. “You know we don’t play dirty.”
“Number 22 has it out for me!” Kyla argued.
“That’s no excuse,” Coach told her. “If you can’t keep your head in the game, you can sit on the bench.”
Kyla sighed. When would she learn not to open her big mouth? “No, I want to help win this game!” she said.
“That’s more like it,” Coach said.
Kyla turned her attention to the game. Bethany shot the puck off to Tamika. Tamika passed to Mackenzie. Mac faked right, then left, and then launched a backhanded shot straight into the net.
Kyla clapped along with her teammates. She didn’t care that it was Mackenzie who’d made the goal. The Ice Storms had just tied the game.
If we win, Kyla thought, maybe everyone will forget about my lousy playing.
* * *
Only twenty-five seconds remained in the third period. Kyla hopped off the boards for the next line change. She was determined to redeem herself.
When the Marauders gained control of the puck, Kyla raced across the center line. A Marauders player was charging down the ice toward the goal. The girl flicked the puck to a teammate on the right.
Kyla flew in front of the puck, intercepting the pass and stopping the Marauders drive. She shot to Ali, who aimed for a goal. She missed. Mandi recovered the puck and shot again — another miss.
The buzzer blared. The game had ended, 2–2.
“Nice save, Fire!” Mackenzie said as the team lined up to slap hands with the Marauders. “If you hadn’t intercepted that pass, we could’ve lost!”
“We should’ve won,” Kyla muttered, but Mackenzie had already turned away.
Inside the locker room, everyone was quiet. Sometimes a tie was worse than a loss. There were no clear winners or losers.
The locker room door swung open, and Coach Rafferty walked in. All the girls stopped what they were doing and turned toward the coach.
“I just wanted to congratulate you ladies on the game,” she said. “It wasn’t a win, but you never gave up.” She looked over at Mackenzie and Tamika. “I saw some excellent teamwork and puck-handling tonight.”
Kyla watched Mac’s face light up with a big grin. Then Coach continued, locking eyes with Kyla. “There’s also a lot of passion on this team. You need passion to be a great player, but you have to control it. Always remember to keep your cool.”
Kyla felt her throat tighten. She could barely swallow as her cheeks turned red.
Coach Rafferty scanned the room again. “I’ll see you all again this Friday for one final game before I make my decision on varsity recruits. Good luck.” With that, the coach left the room.
Ana turned to Kyla. “So, sounds like Mac is in the running for a spot on varsity, huh?” she whispered.
“There’s no question about it,” Kyla said, her face still hot with embarrassment. “It’s a definite.”
“Don’t worry,” Ana said. “There’s still one more game to prove yourself.”
“What’s the point? I’ll never be as good as Mac,” Kyla said, her voice rising. “She never misses a goal. She never screws up. She never gets a penalty.”
Ana shook her head. “Kyla . . .” she began.
But Kyla continued, unable to stop. “Mac doesn’t have to deal with someone like Tom. She doesn’t have to bounce between Mom’s house and Dad’s house. Mac’s life is perfect. Mac is perfect!”
Too late, Kyla realized all her teammates were staring at her. Ana was staring too, but her eyes looked past Kyla’s shoulder.
Kyla slowly turned around. Mackenzie stood behind her, her face red and her jaw clenched. “What is this about, Kyla?” she snapped.
Although a small part of Kyla knew she should apologize, her rage was still swirling. “Well, it’s true, isn’t? You are a perfect hockey player.”
Mackenzie sighed. “You know, all those years we played against each other, I couldn’t wait to be on the same team as you. I knew we’d make a great forward line.”
Kyla opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“But apparently you think we’re still rivals,” Mackenzie said, crossing her arms.
“I don’t, I —” Kyla started. She searched for the right words to say. “I just really wanted to make varsity. And I screwed it up.”
Mackenzie raised an eyebrow. “It was one bad game. So what? You still have a good chance of making varsity. You’re an awesome player.”
“You’re just saying that,” Kyla mumbled. She knew Mac always encouraged everyone, even the weak players.
But Mackenzie shook her head. “Seriously,” she insisted. “I’d give anything to have your speed on the ice. I’ve been jealous of your skating skills since forever.”
Kyla gave a small laugh. “Wow, that’s a long time.” She couldn’t believe Mac had been jealous of her too.
“And I’m not perfect, by the way,” Mackenzie went on. “You should’ve seen the checking penalty I got in seventh grade. It cost my team the game!”
“Really?” Kyla asked.
Mackenzie shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“I know the feeling,” Kyla admitted. She glanced around and realized the locker room had emptied. Ana stood by the door, waiting.
Kyla picked up her bag, not knowing what to say next. “Well, um, thanks, Mac. And sorry I freaked out at you. See you tomorrow?”
Mac beamed at her. “Just bring the Fire back at our next game, and we’ll call it even. See ya!”
Kyla let out a long breath. Maybe now she could forget about trying to beat Mackenzie and focus on doing her best and helping the team. She joined Ana by the locker room door.
“Wow, how did that go?” Ana asked as they started walking.
“Better than I expected,” Kyla admitted. “I guess it is dumb to think of a teammate as a rival. There’s been so much going on lately — I just lost it. I think we’re good now, though.”
As the girls neared the front door of the arena, Kyla heard Tom calling her name. He jogged up, and Kyla froze. All the relief she’d felt after talking to Mackenzie faded.
“Hey, you got a raw deal on that penalty. I don’t know what that ref was thinking, not calling anything on Number 22, but I was thinking you could —” Tom began.
Kyla spotted her dad waiting for her. “Sorry, gotta go!” she said, not letting Tom finish. She waved goodbye to Ana and sprinted toward her dad.
“Hey, Fire! Good game,” Dad said, giving her a tight hug. “So, uh . . . why did you have to sit in the penalty box?”
Kyla laughed. Even after all her years of hockey, her dad was still fuzzy on the rules. She explained the penalties to him as she followed him to his car. As she climbed in, Kyla asked, “Hey, Dad? Do you want to listen to the new playlist I made?”
“Sure, kiddo!” Dad answered. “Hook it up!”
Kyla grinned and started blasting the music. Mac was right — tonight was just one bad game, she told herself. Tomorrow will be a better day.