He Shoots, She scores

Chapter Forty-One: Gracie | The Fight

            From the stands, I watch as Weston, my boyfriend (god, I never tire of saying that) skates up to center. Another Tulsa player skates right up to him, shoulder to shoulder, and at first, it looks like they're just exchanging commentary. Saying encouraging words to one another. Something like that. How very wrong I was.

Out of nowhere, Weston begins unleashing wrath on this guy. Everybody erupts in gasps and 'ooohs!' but Weston doesn't stop. Not even when the guy's helmet is flying off. His punch repeatedly collides with his face, hitting him in the eye, the jaw, the chin. At one point, they lose balance and topple over. It's not a one-way street for long though. The other player gets one good punch in too, which sends Weston's head snapping sideways. I gasp and stand up. Others are jumping in now, attempting but failing to pry him off. It takes two referees and one player to succeed.

Weston is yanking his helmet off while the referee is screaming profusely at him. The referee points towards the exit, but Weston begins arguing back. This doesn't last long before he gives up and skates off the ice. He spits out blood into the garbage can on his way out. The other players are standing around, shocked and dazed at what the heck just happened. Fights during the game are normal, but fights before the game has even started? And from two people on the same team? I think this is a first.

"What the fuck?!" Nessa shouts in my ear. "Did you just see that?" she asks, as if I wasn't right next to her this whole time. "What was that about?"

The announcer's voice booms from above: "Well, based on recent unprecedented events, we will be taking a brief intermission. Please be patient with us in the meantime!" The chatter surrounding us is alive as we're all wondering what the frick just happened.

"How am I supposed to know?" My voice comes out wobbly and unrecognizable. But then I watch with a held breath as the other players and the Coach come rushing to the victim. They tug him up, and blood is dripping down his nose. A paramedic bolts over with an oversized bag, nearly slipping on the ice. I gasp. Oh my god. It's John. Weston hit John. And suddenly, I know exactly what that fight was about.

Anxieties are crawling throughout my skin. John is a gross pervert who can't take 'no' for an answer, and he deserved what he got. I'm just more nervous about what'll happen to Weston. He's standing in the hallway now, being yelled at by both his Coach and some authoritative looking guy in a nice suit. Some kind of manager or scout I'll bet. Based on the earful he's getting, there's no way Weston will be playing tonight.

After an agonizing amount of time, the announcer says: "Sorry for the wait, folks. Based on the decision from our ethics and sports committee, we have decided that Tulsa player Avery Weston will be suspended from today's game."