Rebel Power Play (15 page)

The silence was becoming awkward. He had to say something. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jake. He had a drink in his hand, and was staring right at him.
That decided it. Stop acting like such a wimp, Joyce! he said to himself.

“So you were saying it’s rude for a girl not to dance,” he said, feeling his face grow hot.

“What do you mean?”

This was torture. Just say it!

“Well, didn’t you say that?” he said weakly.

“I said I thought it would be rude to say no to Jake considering he asked nicely and I’ve known him since primary school …”

She smiled. He gathered his courage.

“So … um … you wanna …?”

The door opened and Pudge’s head popped in.

“There you are,” he said. “My dad’s gonna be here in a minute. He told us to wait by the front doors.” He looked over at Julia. “Oh, hi, Julia. Didn’t see you. How’s it going?”

“It’s good, Pudge.”

“Let’s go, Charlie,” Pudge said.

Julia looked over at Charlie.

What a spot to be in. He was dying to hang out with Julia, but he couldn’t tell Pudge he didn’t want to leave now.

“Sorry, Julia. I have to go. Pudge’s dad is giving us a lift home.”

“But the dance has just gotten started,” she said.

“I know, but my head’s starting to hurt … The music is getting to me, I guess.”

Julia pouted. “Okay. If you’re not feeling well, you should … I suppose it makes sense that you go. You don’t want to make it worse.”

“See ya,” he said.

“See ya,” she replied. “And you too, Pudge.”

He watched her skip down the stairs, and then he followed Pudge to the front of the school. How was that for bad timing? Maybe it was for the best. She was probably only pretending to be nice, anyway. She’d dance with Jake again — he knew it.

“So what were you talking to Julia about?” Pudge asked.

“Nothing — school stuff, the essay for Hilton.”

Pudge looked out the window towards the street. “There he is,” he said. “Come on.”

“Are there other dances this year — school dances, I mean?” Charlie asked, as they ran to the truck.

“I don’t think so,” Pudge said. “The grade twelves have a prom dance at the end of the year.”

Charlie clambered in. He was grateful for the warmth. The storm was really picking up. He sat back, tired and listless. What a mess things were. No hockey; he was the laughingstock of the school, and an embarrassment to his teammates; and he’d blown his only chance to dance with Julia.

“So, how was the dance, boys?” Pudge’s father asked.

“Good,” Charlie said politely.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

Charlie packed the snow between his mitts and fired it at the trunk of a large tree. Yet another storm had swept across Terrence Falls, dumping a foot of snow. Kids were going crazy playing in the huge snowdrifts. He tossed a few more snowballs at the tree to keep warm, looking over at the school every few throws and wishing the bell would ring. Lunch period was taking forever. In the distance he could hear some guys shouting. Pudge had told him about a snow soccer game. He’d taken a look, and left immediately when he saw Jake was there.

That’s how it had been this last couple of weeks since he’d come back to school. He couldn’t bring himself to face Jake — or anyone for that matter. He’d become the biggest joke in school. Everyone looked at him differently. They all knew about the fight, how Jake had humiliated him. As for Julia, she hadn’t said a word to him since the dance.

Hockey had always been the one thing in his life he could count on, but not lately. The fun had gone out of the game. The Rebels lost the last three games of the regular season, and he’d played terribly in the last two, barely getting a shot on net. After the final game, Charlie
had asked Hilton to take the captaincy away from him. What good was a captain who let his teammates down? Hilton had refused. He said the team had voted him captain, and they would win or lose with him as captain.

As expected, the Snow Birds and the Wildcats finished one-two respectively and had earned first-round byes in the playoffs. The Rebels’ first playoff game was tonight against the Hornets, and the winner would play the mighty Snow Birds. Mike Dunn had been bragging the past few days that the Hornets were going to destroy them. Scott and some of the others had traded some trash talk. He’d kept out of it.

Charlie was thinking about the playoffs when he felt something smack into his back. He turned. Pudge held a snowball and was winding up for another throw. Charlie dodged it, scooped up a snowball, and rifled it into Pudge’s stomach. Pudge laughed and jogged over.

“Where have you been?” Pudge asked. “I thought you were going to play soccer. It was pretty funny. Scott tripped over the ball and slid face first into a snowdrift — although being Scott, it was probably on purpose.” Pudge brushed some snow off his sleeve. “Is this snow crazy or what?”

“I was going to come over, but remembered I had some homework … science and math. I went to the library.” He felt bad lying to Pudge, but he could hardly tell him he was afraid to play soccer against Jake.

Pudge frowned
.
“You’ve been at the library three times this week, and you went last week too.”

“My mom read me the riot act about school work. I’ve been trying to raise my marks.”

He looked at the school again, as if he could will the
bell to ring.

Pudge folded his arms. “A little snow soccer isn’t going to kill you.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“You say that all the time — and you always have an excuse. What about Saturday? We all came to school for football — Scott, Nick, Me, Zachary, Matt — and you didn’t show. We only had five guys, which made it kind of tough to make two teams.”

“I told you I had to finish that geography presentation.”

“We all did. But you said you’d be there.”

That was true, but at the last minute he’d changed his mind. How could he explain it? Nothing was the same after the fight, not with school, not with the team — not even with Pudge.

“You’ve even missed two practices in a row,” Pudge continued.

“I’ve been busy at school, and at my mom’s café.”

Pudge took a deep breath. “Charlie, some of the guys have been talking. They kind of voted me … like the spokesman.” He paused before continuing. “What’s going on with you? It’s like you don’t want to do anything anymore … like hang out … or even play hockey.”

“That’s whacked, dude.”

“Then explain why you’ve disappeared,” Pudge said heatedly. “Where’s the guy who’s all over the ice, going end to end and scoring. You’re going through the motions, and everyone’s wondering why. Last game you barely touched the puck. You were second in scoring in the league and since you’ve come back I don’t think
you’ve had a point.”

“In case you didn’t notice, I had a concussion. It’s not so easy to just come back and score a ton of goals. I’m the first to admit I’m in a scoring slump. That’s obvious. It’s not like I don’t want to score.” He scooped up some snow and squished it into a ball.

“It’s not just that,” Pudge said. “You’re not playing … like before.” He looked off towards the road. “Straight out, there’s no effort, Charlie. You’re soft on the puck. No one used to be able to take the puck off you — now everyone does. When you get some open ice, you pass. It’s like … you lost all your confidence or something.”

“I’m trying!” Charlie shouted. He slapped his thigh with his fist.“I knew guys were dissing me. I knew it. You all think I don’t hear. You think I’m so stupid that I don’t get it.” He felt completely betrayed. Everyone had turned on him. “I practically got killed playing for you guys. I put the stupid Rebels together and … and … now you want me off the team!” He wanted to run home then and there and never come back.

“I never said that,” Pudge said. “Guys want to know what’s wrong. It’s like you’re mad at us, and we didn’t do anything. No one understands what happened. You barely talk anymore. You don’t even want to be friends with us …”

“Tell the Rebels I’ll quit, which is what everyone wants.”

“It is not!” Pudge thundered. “No one wants you to quit. We want Charlie Joyce to be Charlie Joyce — the guy we voted captain.” He pointed a glove at Charlie. “We have a playoff game tonight and you wanna quit! Act like the captain, and not some guy who feels sorry for
himself — and is afraid to play snow soccer.”

“That’s dumb.”

“I don’t think so. What’s dumb is quitting on the team and your friends because of one game — one fight. Why do you care so much? It’s over. You’re the only one who doesn’t get it. I don’t know who’s acting like the bigger jerk, you or Jake.”

With that, turned and left. Charlie watched without moving, still holding the snowball. He didn’t have a friend left in school. Everything he’d tried to do with the Rebels had been a waste.

It was better back when he didn’t know anyone at school. He’d never felt so lonely since he’d arrived at Terrence Falls. He’d never fit in here — never.

* * *

Hours later, Charlie sat in the dressing room tying his skates, a knot in his stomach getting worse as game time approached. He’d changed his mind half a dozen times. He’d finally decided not to play — he could simply blame the concussion — but then his mom yelled that she was ready to go to the game, and his sister and grandparents were waiting in the van. That left him no choice, and so he came, dreading every minute.

A slap on the shin pads interrupted his thoughts.

“Is the Joyce-monster ready to roll?” Scott said.

He felt scared more than ready. He nodded weakly.

“This is your game, dude.” Scott whacked him on the pads again. “No one’s got your wheels. Get to the puck and go.”

The praise embarrassed him. “Big game, for sure.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Their defence pinches,” Zachary said to Charlie
from across the room. “I’ll be chippin’ the puck off the boards to you all game. You’ll get a ton of breakaways.”

“We gotta get our power play going,” Pudge said. “It was awesome early in the season. Get the puck to Charlie and let him attack the zone. Me and Zachary will charge the net.”

There was a brief silence.

“First goal will be huge,” Matt interjected. He bounced his stick a few times on the floor. “You ready for this one, Char?”

“I guess,” he said.

He caught Matt exchanging a glance with Zachary. He grabbed his helmet and sat up. Only then did he notice that all his teammates were all looking at him. Had he forgotten something? He quickly checked his equipment. What was going on?

“So, captain … what do you think … about the Hornets?” Pudge asked.

All of a sudden it dawned on him that his teammates were trying to restore his confidence and get him stoked for the game. He looked at the serious faces around him. Even Scott was quiet. Most games the guys were laughing and joking — now, you could hear a pin drop. There was no question the boys wanted this game. Charlie tossed his helmet a few times. He realized that Pudge had been right. His teammates hadn’t quit on him — he’d quit on his teammates. He’d let Jake totally intimidate him; he’d let him destroy his confidence. The concussion had been a convenient excuse for being a wuss. Charlie thought about what his dad had always said to him after he’d had a bad game. “I don’t worry about you winning or losing; I just want to see you trying to
help your team win.” The memory of his father made him feel ashamed. It was as if he’d let his dad down.

Pudge had just called him captain — time to prove he deserved the C.

“I don’t think anything about the Hornets,” he began. “This game isn’t about the Hornets. It’s about the Rebels. We’ve got enough talent to beat anyone when we play our game. We proved that in the regular season. Maybe we haven’t played too great lately — and that goes double for me. But that was then. The Hornets aren’t in our league — no chance.”

No one spoke. They all kept looking at him. He had to keep going until Hilton came in.

“I could think of a lot of reasons to get stoked for this game. It’s the playoffs. It’s sudden-death. We got up at five in the morning to practise in the middle of winter. We didn’t even have a coach until Christmas.”

His teammates were all nodding. He was on the right track. He flipped his helmet around and sat up straight.

“But that’s not why I want to win this game.”

His gaze settled on Pudge.

“So what’s the reason?” Pudge asked.

“I want to shut Mike Dunn up for good, and his dad too.”

That did it. Everyone began to talk at once.

“We’ve got to win every battle along the walls,” said Christopher, taking Charlie by surprise. He rarely spoke in the dressing room.

“Hard on every puck — every loose puck is ours.” Now Robert was getting into it.

We’ll take these pretenders out by the end of the first,” Scott added.

“Clear the front of the net for Martin and we got ourselves a shutout,” Nick said.

“These dudes got nothin’. It’s our game all the way,” Zachary said.

“We can outskate the Hornets backwards and forwards,” Jonathon added. “Fire on all cylinders, boys.”

Charlie’s heart was pounding.

The door opened and Hilton came in. He looked around and then smiled at Charlie.

“You started this team — only you can keep it going. I assume whatever needed to be said has been said.”

Charlie jumped to his feet. “Remember why we want to win this game, and there’s no way we can lose.”

He led his teammates onto the ice.

The Hornets’ right winger flipped the puck to the right corner. Charlie raced after it, with Mike Dunn a step behind.

“Out of my way, Joyce!” Mike yelled.

Charlie had to act fast. The puck lay against the boards. He extended his stick and drew the puck between his skates. Leaping to his right he did a three-sixty spin to avoid the collision.

Boom!

Mike crashed into the boards and fell to the ice. Charlie had no time to enjoy the sight as another Hornets forechecker bore down on him. Across the zone, Scott raised his stick and whistled. He was wide open. Charlie was about to pass when he heard a girl’s voice ring out from the crowd.

“Go for it, Charlie!”

That sounded like Julia. Whoever it was, he decided to follow the advice. Feinting to his left and then pivoting on his right foot, he pirouetted around the surprised forechecker. The roar of the crowd fired him up as he raced up ice. He felt his confidence soar as he picked up speed in the neutral zone.

Zachary cut across the blue line from the right wing. Since his return from the concussion, Charlie had been passing in this situation, treating the puck like a hot potato. This time, he was determined to go for it himself. He faked the pass and let Zachary cut underneath, angling to the right. Five feet from the defenceman, he pretended to lose the puck in his skates. The defenceman fell for it and charged. Charlie instantly kicked the puck to his stick, dipped his left shoulder to the inside, and then popped to the outside.

Zachary and Pudge poured into the Hornets’ zone. Three-on-one. The defenceman swung his stick frantically back and forth. Charlie carried the puck to the top of the circle. Zachary had slowed, his stick over his head, ready for the one-timer, while Pudge pushed on towards the net.

Charlie bent his right knee and turned sideways, dragging the puck behind him as if to pass to Zachary. The defenceman dropped to one knee and swung his stick in a wide arc to block the pass. But Charlie had meanwhile pulled the puck across to his backhand and was able to slip past him.

Charlie closed in on the goalie. Pudge had parked himself on the edge of the crease. Eight feet out, he swung his stick as if to backhand it to Pudge. The goalie threw his right pad down in anticipation. But the puck was still on Charlie’s stick. The goalie had the presence of mind to reach his left leg out, almost doing the splits. Charlie swung the puck to this forehand and cut hard across the top of the crease. In one motion, he jammed the puck between the goalie’s legs before crashing headlong into Pudge.

Charlie sprung back to his feet. He was so stoked he wanted to race back to centre for the faceoff. Pudge held out his glove and Charlie gave it a hard punch.

“If I’d known you had it covered I would’ve saved my energy and watched,” Pudge said, grinning widely.

“Your goal, bud,” Charlie said. He cuffed the back of Pudge’s helmet. “Goalie had to cover you and that left the five-hole open.”

“You’re right,” Pudge laughed. “That was all me.”

Zachary draped his arms across their shoulders. “First-goal fever. I want three more before the period ends.”

Nick and Scott arrived next, and they pounded his helmet so many times he said, “Easy, boys. I’ve had enough concussions for one season.”

They drifted back to their end. The Rebels supporters were on their feet, cheering wildly. He spotted Danielle swinging her cowbell and holding a bag of popcorn in her other hand. His mom and grandparents clapped along with the other parents. Further down in the stands some kids from school were going crazy. Julia, Alexandra and Rebecca were in the middle clapping as they chanted, “
Re-bels! Re-bels! Re-bels!
”

Matt’s line remained seated on the bench, and Charlie hurried to the faceoff circle before his coach decided to change the lines. Mike was already set up.

“Drop the puck, ref,” Mike snarled. “They score one goal, and you’d think they’d won the championship.”

The referee blew his whistle and held the puck over centre. When he let it drop, Mike swung his stick wildly, but Charlie blocked it, and then drew the puck to Scott. Mike bulled past and charged at Scott, who waited
calmly until Mike had committed and then slid the puck between Mike’s skates to Charlie. Charlie immediately whirled around and headed towards the Hornets’ goal. Zachary cut across the blue line and this time Charlie passed to him. Zachary danced around the right winger and curled into the Hornets’ end along the wall. Charlie followed behind.

“Zachary, drop it,” he called.

Zachary left the puck for him and set up in the corner. Pudge charged the net, as usual. Charlie was tempted to blast one from the top of the circle, but opted to slide the puck to Zachary down low. The right defenceman moved to pressure the puck, which left the area to the goalie’s right wide open. Zachary lifted the puck to that spot — and Charlie extended full out to corral it. The defenceman covering Pudge threw himself to the ice to block his shot. Charlie took a step to reach around the prone player and managed to fling it to the front of the net to Pudge. He faked a shot, which made the goalie drop to a butterfly, and then passed it hard back to Charlie, who tilted his stick and redirected the puck just inside the right post.

During the entire play, Charlie hadn’t heard a sound. But the second the puck went in the roar of the crowd washed over him, almost catching him off guard. Zachary held him in a bear hug and lifted him off the ice a few times. Pudge pounded his helmet and soon Scott and Nick were doing the same.

Charlie was too overwhelmed to say a word. He hadn’t scored in what seemed like ages. All the pressure he’d put on himself was gone. That last goal had been all instinct. He didn’t even have to think. His body had just
reacted to the situation.

This time he headed to the bench, figuring Hilton would change it up. Matt, Jonathon and Dylan were bashing their sticks on the boards. Hilton nodded to centre. Charlie felt a surge of energy. Two goals on one shift — and a chance for a third!

Charlie lined up for the draw. The Hornets coach had his arm around Mike’s neck, and he was talking, his right hand jabbing into the air forcefully. Then Mike skated over to centre. Just as Hilton was doing for him, the Hornets coach was giving Mike a chance to redeem himself. Charlie was determined to prove that was a mistake.

Mike changed his stance this time, widening his legs and holding his stick in a reverse grip. Charlie decided to try something unexpected. He also reversed his grip. But instead of pulling it back, he pushed the puck forward. Mike’s wide stance made it impossible for him to slow Charlie up, and Charlie easily evaded his desperate hip check and surged forward with the puck.

He’d also surprised his linemates. They were still at the red line as he moved in on the defence. Since it was a one-on-two, he raised his stick to slap it in deep. The left defenceman turned to get a jump on the forecheck. That changed Charlie’s mind. He kept the puck and skated right behind the defenceman, shoving the puck into his skates. The defenceman kept turning his head to find the puck, but Charlie kept it in his skates so he couldn’t get at it. Finally, the defenceman spun to skate backwards. He was too slow, however. Charlie pulled the puck from his skates and slipped past his right shoulder.

The other defenceman stormed over to cut Charlie
off. Charlie slid his right hand halfway down the shaft of his stick and used his left arm to fend off his opponent. The two players pushed against each other, Charlie struggling to cut to the net and the defenceman trying just as hard to stop him.

At the hash marks, Charlie realized he was running out of space. The goalie was way out to cut down the angle. A backhand was useless. He had to get to the slot. He slid the puck behind the defenceman’s back and slipped back inside. The Hornets player gasped as Charlie gathered the puck alone in front. The goalie butterflied, but Charlie wasn’t paying him much attention. He felt he could shoot through a brick wall. He reared back, hesitated slightly to put the goalie off, and let it fly. The puck nicked the right post and ricocheted in.

He thrust his arms over his head and pumped his arms. The captain was supposed to come through in big games. Well, he had — three goals in one shift!

After that, the rout was on. Before the first period ended, Matt scored another marker. By the end of the second it was 7–0. The Rebels supporters were chanting non-stop. Five minutes into the third, Dylan powered in from the wing and beat the goalie with a wicked shot on the short side. After that, the Rebels were content to kill the clock and the score ended 8–0.

Bhrrr
.

The game was over! Martin threw his arms in the air. Scott and Nick jumped at him, and they went down in a heap, their delirious teammates following. Charlie didn’t know quite how to feel. He’d never been so relieved to win a game.

“You did it,” Pudge said, arm around his shoulders. “Four goals and one assist.”

“We did it,” Charlie said.

“Bring on the Snow Birds,” Nick yelled.

“There’s a surprise,” Scott said, pointing to the far boards. “Mike’s leaving before we shake hands. I thought he’d want to congratulate his old teammates.”

“I’m sure he’ll drop by the dressing room,” Nick said.

“Very cool, dudes,” Zachary said.

“The Snow Birds will wish they never took up the game,” Matt added, pounding everyone’s helmet for good measure.

“Come on, guys. Mike’s gone, but the rest of them are waiting,” Charlie said.

He led the Rebels to centre to shake hands. Mike’s teammates proved to be good sports, wishing them luck in the semis. As he was skating off, he heard someone call his name.

“Hey, Charlie, Pudge. Awesome game.”

It was their sponsor, Brent. They skated over.

“Thanks for coming out,” Charlie said. “We appreciate the support.”

“Are you kidding?” he said. “Can’t remember enjoying a game more. You all played great — made The Hockey Shop proud.”

“I thought you were changing the name,” Charlie said.

“Nah,” he said. “In the end I couldn’t do it. Too much history.”

“Why change the perfect name?” Charlie said.

“Like the Rebels,” Brent said. “It says it all.”

Charlie couldn’t have agreed more.