'Come on, you can do it.'

Everyone was screaming, shouting, cheering on the team to the best of their abilities.

'Seven minutes left. Down by two.'

"Hey! Over here!"

"I'm open!"

"Turner up ice, up ice!"

"Schmidtty, AY!"

Her eyes shifted back and forth quickly taking in the puck movement. Quick flicks of wrists sent the puck whizzing through sticks and skates. A hard shot and a whistle for a save. A line change.

'Six and a half. It's only two, they can do this!'

Sweat and water mixed, dripping down their jerseys. A puck drop and the fast paced actions starts all over again. Jerseys billowing, players panting, eyes set on the small black object that determines the game.

"Got one! Got one!" The player grabs the puck last minute by the boards to shake off the player chasing him. He turns up ice and away the puck goes to another who is much closer to the goal. A move. A trip. A hand. A penalty. A blessing. An opportunity.

"Tweeny-two, tripping, tweeny-two."

The jargon makes the game all the more exciting to her as she stands front row cheering her team on. Her friends. The face-off down in their end. The puck drops and the game begins again.

She stares as her team sets up their power play. The puck flying stick to stick, looking for that one opportunity. It misses the targeted stick. An unlucky break and it's now two-on-one coming back into their zone. The back up goalie isn't good enough and the net swishes.

'Five and a half. No, no, no!'

Her hands find purchase in her hair as she looks as stressed as the rest of the team. Three goals is not impossible, but will be a challenge. The other school's taunts of 'this one's over' is not helping their cause. Of course her school responds just as fiercely, trying to rouse spirit back into the team.

It's the first game of sections.

It could be the senior's last.

Face-off at center ice and her team gains control. A simple move gains the player access and a beautiful shot is made. The goalie is able to protect his net. Her hands pound the glass as the student section try to give their team momentum. They need it. Suddenly a rush is made by the other team that leaves a bad feeling in her stomach. She cringes as the sound of a pipe is heard and cheering soon after.

'Four with four goals to make up.'

She stares helplessly at the ice as the five players skate off, obviously frustrated. One even slams his stick into the boards. This was not the way it was planned. The student sections still shouts loudly. It has been a disappointing year and they're not ready to give up. With both football and girls and boys soccer one game away from state, this student body is not ready to give up the fight until the last second. The bantering, however, is getting worse. 'Scoreboard, scoreboard!' 'Siv! Siv!' 'Maybe next year!' 'If you're loosing and you know it clap your hands!' all add to the frowns displayed on her teams face.

They were supposed to get by this round. For their teammate who was just diagnosed with cancer. It was going to be for him. They were going to the hospital afterwords to celebrate, not in the somber mood that is now predicted.

The game continued. The puck flew and so did the bodies as the last minutes drew near. More hits rattled the boards and more cheers went up as a body was successfully hit. Puck on stick, the boy skated up ice. He was soon held onto unbeknownst to the ref. As he went down his stick swung to take the kid down with him. She groaned as an arm went up.

"Two! Tripping! Two for trippin'!"

She stared helplessly at the box ten feet away from her. The boys eyes met hers for a split second before he looked away. She could see the frustration as he threw his body back against the boards, sliding down to take a seat.

She turned her attention back to the ice where his best friend found purchase on the puck and shot it down to the other end before taking off for it himself. She glanced at the box to see him standing near the glass, itching to be back on the ice with him. They both have plans for college, even scouts from the NHL have come to see them already. His friend loses the battle and has to retreat, allowing the other team to take as much time as they please to set up.

'Two minutes, forty-eight left on the kill.'

The penalty is over and he rushes back out on the ice to be part of the play, anything to close the gap. It's impossible. They have him and his best friend down on lock. The other student section gets louder as the clock narrows down to the last thirty seconds. A shot from the point allows her team the goal. She jumps for joy pounding on the glass before she sees the senior defender's face.

The defender's smile is heartbreaking. It's the smile of a person who is so close to crying that all he can do is smile to keep the tears at bay. She glances at the clock to see ten-point-one seconds left. She turns back to see the defender bent over at his waist. It breaks her heart.

The puck drops and is shot right near her student section. She watches warily as he chases the other player. She knows what's coming. A second before the buzzer he checks the kid into the boards hard, rattling it all the way around the rink and sending the student section into a frenzy. She knows, however, that this game is done.

She watches as the defender, Jonas, crumples to the ground in front of the net. She feels the tears stinging but promises she won't let them fall. As the line forms to shake hands he is picked up by his teammates and coaches. Her section cheers them on as they slowly shake hands, trying to take in the loss.

She watches as Grant is hugged by the every person on the other team, growing up skating with them and known by every single one of them. She watches as he, Zach, stands still by the coaches, congratulating each player and giving them each a personal message. She knows he's no poor sport, but she knows that this is not the outcome he planned.

As her team starts leaving the ice, chants of Roseville break out. She watches as each senior gazes at the sight that most of them will never see again. She stares as they start chanting Zach and Grants name, as each acknowledge the section with a raise of a hand. She makes eye contact with Zach before he looks away, and takes the step off the ice and also his last game of high school.

The other team does a salute in the middle before clearing the ice which then clears the whole arena of people, leaving parents and a few students who wait for the crowd to clear before heading out. She sits on the bleacher staring out on the ice, unable to move. The few stragglers soon leave until she's the only one sitting there, staring out into the ice.

"Hey."

She looks up to see Zach standing there, as the rest of the team acknowledges her with a head nod before heading out themselves.

"Hell of a game, hat trick boy," she quietly replies. She's rewarded by a small smirk but she can still see the sadness in his eyes. He sets his bag down before sitting down beside her, surprising her.

"It was," he whispers gazing out onto the ice. She can tell that he's reliving the last few moments as his eyes glaze over. She's again surprised when he grabs her hand and puts it on his lap.

"Dodged some checks. I don't understand how you do it." She settles her head on his shoulder as they both stare off.

It's hit them hard that their both seniors, and off to practically a new life in a few months.

She knows what's about to happen as his grip tightens on her hand. Roughly, he grabs her and hides his face in her neck. She knows he hates showing weakness. She still feels the hot tears fall onto her neck where the sweatshirt was askew. She hugs him back just as fiercely and tries not to cry, but it's without hope.

"That was my last game," he whispers. She tightens her arms as she murmurs 'I know' back to him. They both realize it was an ending that came abruptly upon them.

Reluctantly he pulls back and scrubs his eyes. They're puffy and red, an obvious sign of crying. She gives him a weak smile to which he returns.

"I have to go. The boys are probably waiting for me on bus. We have to go see Dean." It makes her tear up again at the thought of the poor senior who was just diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. He was right up there with Zach and Grant. He had plans of juniors for a year before college, but it looks like that will be put on hold.

"Tell him I miss him, will ya?" she asks softly. He nods. He then picks up his hockey bag and stick and reaches out for her hand. She places hers in his and they walk out of the rink.

Out of a chapter of their lives.