The whistle blows as Calgary’s goalie catches the puck, and I turn to get a drink of water, locking eyes with Pippa behind the glass. She smiles and gives me a small wave, and I nod at her, spraying water through my mask, thinking about how good she looks in that jersey. My jersey. My chest pulls tight at the sight of her, here, supporting me, wearing my name proudly. This girl is everything to me.
