All right you guys! Finally, an entire chapter written from Adam's POV! So if you love you some Adam–and presumably most of you do, else you wouldn't be reading this story–grab a cup of coffee and enjoy!

/

"Strength grows in the moments when you think you can't go on but you keep going anyway." - Unknown

"OW!" Dwayne cried out as he was checked hard into the wall by Portman. "Watch it, alright?!"

"Just doin' my job, bro. I wouldn't have to do mine if you'd do yours."

Dwayne lunged forward and gave Portman a shove, something the gregarious Texan wouldn't typically do to anyone, let alone Portman. Only an idiot would shove Portman.

"HEY!" Orion blew his whistle. "Break it up! Now, let's try that again. Robertson, what did I tell you about passing to the left? It's not your strong suit. How many more times am I going to have to remind you? Alright, positions! Again!"

The coach's voice echoed off the walls of the rink as the scrimmage started over, Dwayne rolling his eyes as he headed back to his right wingman position and Portman, muttering under his breath, readied for defense.

Adam, Team A, coasted back over to face off against Jesse, Team B, in the center. Usually the banter between both boys kept the competition lighthearted. But today, everyone was tired and getting testy with one another. Coach Orion had been driving them hard over the past two weeks, and even Adam felt ready to break. His body was on fire, every joint protesting loudly against each move he made on the ice. What's worse, his shoulder felt like it could pop back out of place at any time.

He and Jesse stood at the ready, not looking up at one another as Coach dropped the puck. Adam couldn't move as quickly today as he usually did, and Jesse swooped the puck away from him before his brain could assimilate which direction he was going to pass it in. Jesse passed the puck to Guy, who caught it and drove it down toward the goal Julie was tending. Julie went down into a T-Push as he curved in front of her and snap-shot the puck into the goal.

But there was a moment of confusion. The puck didn't seem to have made it into the net, and Julie looked all around her.

"Did it go in or not?" Goldberg shouted from the other end of the rink.

It was unlike Julie not to be on her A-game, but she clearly wasn't today as she continued to search in the folds of her gloves and her practice jersey, finally locating the puck just behind her thick skate blade.

Orion blew his whistle again, this time so loud and long that it was all anyone could do to not clap their hands over their ears in spite of their helmets.

"Care to tell me how that happened, Gaffney?"

Julie stammered. "I..well whe-"

"I tell you how it happened: you guys are getting sloppy. I've seen some shitty playing out here today out of all of you, and that's not going to hold for the playoffs. Do you hear me? I'll have you in here every morning at four o'clock if I have to."

Adam gritted his teeth in frustration. This guy had no idea what it was taking for him to drag himself in here every day on about four hours of sleep, hurting like someone had broken every bone in his body. Sloppy?

Are you serious?!

He glanced over and met Charlie's eye as his friend shook his head and tossed up an arm, similarly angry. What more did this guy want?

Adam had come to respect Orion over the years. He was a tough coach, yet he challenged them to be the best-better than any preceding Eden Hall JV and, later, Varsity team. But the way he had been pushing the team this season was enough to make all of them almost grateful this would be their last season. And Adam didn't think that was fair. Their last season should be a good experience-not one so frustrating he wanted to break his stick across his knee and throw it. It should be one of their best yet, to be sure, but not at the expense of everybody's physical and mental wellbeing. Even Adam could concede that, and he knew he was easily the biggest hockey enthusiast on the Ducks.

The rink was dead silent as everyone filed off the ice and into the locker room to shower and change. Adam pulled off his own helmet, running a hand through his soaking wet hair to keep it pushed back off his eyes. He had just reached the edge of the rink and was about to step off when Coach Orion slid to a stop just behind him.

"Banks. A word?"

Adam turned around as Russ, Kenny and Charlie lumbered past him, Kenny flashing him a sympathetic look.

"Uh, yeah." He waited until the other guys were past him before stepping back onto the ice. "What is it, Coach?"

Orion waited a moment until everyone was in the locker room before turning to Adam again. "How are you holding up?"

He blinked. "Fine. I'm holding up fine, why?"

"Yeah, well your speed on the ice and your blunted instincts say otherwise. Is it the pain? Not getting enough sleep?"

Adam felt a fire brewing in his belly that he knew was working its way up to his mouth. "I'm sleeping fine and I'm not in pain. No disrespect, but why the hell would you say that? I didn't miss one pass out there today."

He had never in his life cursed at an adult, and he had a feeling he may pay dearly for doing it now. But he was on edge after just having given it his all, through teeth-gritting pain, and this guy was standing here telling him his best wasn't good enough. What was it going to take?

Coach Orion was unfazed. "Adam, I'm used to an 'A-plus' game out of you. What you're giving me now is maybe a 'B'. And believe me, your 'B' is still better than the 'A' I get out of the rest of the team. But I'm counting on you to carry us next week. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Sure." Adam turned to go, not trusting himself to say anything else. But Orion's next words stopped him.

"I'm preparing you for the majors. That's what you're hoping for after NYU, isn't it? If so, you're going to have to figure out a way to bring the magic back to the ice, pain or no pain. Now, if you don't think you can do that, there's no shame. But it's my job as your coach to wring out every last drop of potential I see in you, and watch you live up to it."

Taking a deep breath and counting to ten, Adam turned around. "Has it ever occurred to you that you're out of line? I mean, you're out here yelling at everybody, accusing us of sloppy playing, then expect that adding more practice time is going to somehow make us less tired. And what, better listeners? We were all busting ass out there tonight. But after a while, we're gonna hit a wall. Julie and Guy didn't know what happened to the puck because they were exhausted. Think about it–has any one of us ever made a dipshit mistake like that when we're running on a full tank?"

Adam braced himself. Nobody unloaded like that on Coach Orion. The only one who ever even tried it was Charlie during their first year at Eden Hall, and it hadn't gone well for him. To be fair, the coach had become a lot more reasonable after Charlie's rebellious spell, but the respect he had garnered by then usually kept anyone else from talking back to him or challenging anything he did or said. But this time Orion was just wrong, and even though Adam happily flew under the radar with his opinions most of the time and just did whatever he was told on the rink, he wasn't going to stand by and let the coach tell him to his face he couldn't handle the NHL.

If he'd come looking for a fight, Adam was going to give him one.

Coach Orion raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to be challenged by the docile Adam Banks. "You telling me how to coach now, Banks? Because if you think you're indispensable, let me just remind you it's your own legacy and that of your team that you're screwing with if I have to bench my star player for insubordination. Is it worth it? Of course, on the bench you can get all the rest you want. So make your choice." Orion patted his arm before skating past him.

Adam stood stunned for a moment before he forced himself off the ice and back to the locker room quickly while he could still hold himself in check. Once inside, he shut the door heavily and marched over to his locker, jerking off his gloves and using great restraint to keep from throwing them across the room. No one else was talking; not even Jesse, who all week long had been rattling off a litany of reasons the team should just forfeit rather than put up with the rigors of practices with Coach Orion.

But apparently Adam's uncharacteristic anger was noticeable to some, as Connie approached him quietly.

"You okay, Adam?"

He nodded stiffly.

"I know, he's being a dick. You did your best out there. We all did."

But the NHL comment was what had rattled him the most. Never once had a coach, including Orion himself, ever accused Adam of not playing top shelf hockey. Sure, he may have challenges now that he hadn't had in years past. But he was handling them, and doing a damn good job of it. Any scout or major league coach would see that. Evidently not this jackass, because Gretzky himself could come out onto the ice and do something wrong.

"Why don't we all go out for pizza?" Connie tried again. "We just really need some time to laugh and get our minds off all this for a little while."

Adam took his shower bag out of his locker. "My mind's never off hockey. And I think everybody's too tired. Don't worry about it, Connie." He tried to give her a grateful, if small, smile before heading off to the shower.

There was one thing that helped Adam when his joints ached as badly as they were aching right now-heat. Ice was supposed to be better for inflammation, but heat was the only thing that actually made him feel better. So he turned the shower on to nearly scalding temperatures and stood under the steaming hot water, allowing it to beat down on him while he counted to twenty. That loosened him up enough to turn the knob back to a slightly less uncomfortable temperature so he could soap up.

He wanted to go by Lacey's to watch some mindless television with her for a while in that comfortable state of dozing on and off. It felt like forever since he'd talked to her and even longer since he'd seen her, though it had actually been only a few days. Leave it to him to begin a relationship right before senior year playoffs. Not that he'd take any of it back. In spite of his bad mood, it made him smile while he was washing his hair to think about the game last week when she'd shown up early and come down to stand at the plexiglass while he and the team were warming up. Unable to ever stay away from this girl when she was within eyesight, Adam had skated over after making sure Coach's attention was diverted and grinned when she held her hand up, showing off the class ring she was proudly sporting on her left pointer, the one she finally settled on after trying it on various fingers. It still made him blush to think how it had occurred to him for a few seconds to take off his glove and place his own hand on the the plexiglass as a gesture of affection for her, but not only had he not had time to do that, he would have never stopped catching hell from his teammates for doing something so sappy.

"Aw man, you guys are in that stage, aren't you?" Russ had needled him earlier in the week when he'd paused getting ready for practice to take out and read the sweet note Lacey had left for him in his duffel bag.

Adam was definitely too tired to go over to see her tonight, but his thoughts of her were part of what had kept him pumped up over the last couple of weeks to endure the torture of strenuous early morning and late evening practices, and to juggle schoolwork in between it all. April was going to be a hectic month, but hard work was something Adam could usually handle. It was peoples' doubt that was getting to him. As if he didn't secretly doubt himself at times…

Coach was the third person in the last few months to question his dream of the pros. First Dr. Henry at the ER, whose opinion he could disregard easily enough. His dad's old friend or not, that doctor didn't know him. Coach Bombay had been the hardest person to hear disappointing feedback from, and now Coach Orion? Adam played hockey. It's what he lived for, what he was really good at. And what he needed right now was for people to believe in him.

After his shower, he went back to his locker to grab his things, murmur goodbye to the teammates left, and head out into the frosty night air for his car. He had an Intro to Philosophy paper to write tonight before he could sleep, so when he got home, he headed into the kitchen first thing to brew some coffee. He was drinking coffee more and more lately thanks to Lacey's influence, plus the fact that his days were growing longer while his nights grew shorter.

But he stopped short upon seeing his mom in the breakfast nook, eating his Golden Grahams.

"Mom, can you not?" Adam normally wouldn't mind her having some of his cereal, but tonight he was irritable and out of sorts.

"Oh, and who buys your groceries?" She called back to him, flipping the page in what was probably a Danielle Steel novel.

"Touche," he sighed, rubbing his face tiredly as he went over to the coffee pot and opened the canister next to it. "Why are you still up?"

She took another bite of cereal before she answered, finally looking up from her book. "Well, I got excited about an idea I had."

"For another painting series?" He came over and sat down across from her while waiting for his coffee to brew.

"Nope. I'm going to hold an acrylics class," she smiled proudly. "And I'm going to do it here in the studio, where people can be inspired by all the art I have hanging around. I think May is a good time to start something like that, don't you? Spring will finally be here, and the bored housewives will come out of the woodwork."

Adam chuckled. "Maybe so, but Mom, you talk about teaching art classes about every six months and you never do it. Last time it was watercolors. And what was it before that, collages or something?"

"Decoupage on glass pieces. Get your art knowledge straight, Son." She gently kicked him with her bare foot under the table.

Not one whit artistic, Adam shook his head. But he was glad to see his mom's excitement following the depression she seemed to have descended into in the months after his attack. His mom was one hundred percent emotion, good or bad.

"I thought I'd see if Lacey would like to come. Would she like that? It would be free to her of course."

"Yeah?" Adam's mood lifted a little. "I'll ask her."

He felt Stella rub up against his ankles. The little cat followed his mom everywhere she went, so it wasn't surprising that she had been hanging out not far from them. If he hadn't been so tired he would have leaned down and picked her up.

"Anyway, you look a little blue." His mom closed her book and studied him. "Not just tired, but like something's actually wrong."

Adam cringed. He prided himself on being able to hide his true emotions from most people, but his mom always seemed to know things. "Just a rough practice," he answered, getting up to go check on his coffee before she could ask anything more. But of course she did.

"Was Coach Orion hard to deal with again tonight?"

"You could say that." He took out a mug.

"He always challenges you to do your best though, doesn't he?"

His mom's concern about hockey always irked him for some reason. "Yeah, well most of the time he does, but tonight I just wanted to choke him." He left out the part where he had talked back to the man.

"Maybe he's just stressed out because of the playoffs. Speaking of which, what teams in the conference will you be going up against?"

"The Wind from Michigan, Panthers from Allentown, Pennsylvania, Rangers out of Rhode Island, and...um, the Bears from somewhere in New Jersey." He became distracted by his sudden clumsiness with the coffee pot, pouring too much into the mug to leave room for cream.

"It's a good thing Eden Hall's hosting this year, isn't it? So you don't have the stress of going out of town," she mused.

"Yeah, guess so." Adam poured cream in anyway, taking a few sips to keep the full mug from spilling. "Alright, well I've got a paper to write."

"Babe, you can do this. Okay?," she attempted to encourage him.

The thing was, Adam didn't take anything his mom said to him about hockey seriously. After all, he had been a kid when she'd stopped coming to games. She had always seemed really affected when he or Travis got hurt out on the ice, and each time it happened she seemed more and more determined to distance herself from Adam's sport. And it aggravated him. Getting hurt was part of playing hockey. Couldn't she just deal with it and come see him play sometimes? After all, she wouldn't have a chance to after this year. If she wasn't coming to games now, she definitely wouldn't go to New York to watch them.

"Thanks," he answered simply, nearly tripping over Stella in his tiredness.

"And go throw your pads and stuff in the wash. I can smell them from here."

Adam paused, miffed. He never liked to be told he stank. He rolled his eyes and wordlessly headed out to the hall to set his coffee on the mahogany chest, not even bothering to put a coaster under his steaming mug as he took his duffel and headed to the laundry room. He'd better remember in a little while to come down and throw his pads in the dryer or he would be suffering the consequences in the morning.

Somehow Adam got his paper finished. It was around two in the morning, and he couldn't vouch for its accuracy or grammar, but it was done. He printed it and slid it into his Philosophy folder, going over to drop onto his bed.

That night he dreamt of the playoffs. But instead of the grandiose visions he usually saw in his head of perfect plays and the glory that resulted, he couldn't move his skates. He watched while everyone whirred past him on the ice. He called out to Coach Orion, but it was as though the man didn't hear him. The resulting horror that washed over Adam made him feel his favorite sport was turning on him. Determined to break through his immobility, he thrashed around as hard as he could.

He woke up when he hit the ground beside his bed, and, realizing his face was wet, reached up to discover tears. His shoulder was aching terribly from the fall, and for a moment he was afraid it had dislocated again. After getting up and going to the bathroom mirror to examine it, he established that it was still in place, just throbbing with pain. Part of it was no doubt due to the rigorous practice last night, and he suddenly realized he had only a couple of hours to make it to the next one. So he washed his face, trying to wake himself up enough to brush his teeth and throw clothes on, grabbing his pads from the dryer.

Was it becoming too much? And why couldn't he seem to handle it like he used to?

What was happening to him?

/

That morning, he could tell Connie had been crying.

"Connie," he instinctively moved beside her once he had suited up. "What's wron?" Guy was nowhere in sight.

"I'm just…" more tears sprang to her eyes, and Adam felt a little surprised. Connie was a tough girl. She kept high spirits and fierce determination no matter what, never choosing to linger over her obstacles. But her constitution was evidently breaking down.

"I'm on my period," she blurted out. "And this is just really, really hard. I snapped at Guy, and I don't know if I can go a whole practice without going to the bathroom. Then Orion will really blow his top."

Adam froze, feeling his cheeks redden. Yup, Connie was definitely in a bad place right now. "Oh," was all he could manage to say. "Do you need to talk to, um… Julie about all this…?"

"Julie's being a total bitch right now," she slammed her locker shut after pulling out her stick. "Everybody's acting like a little bitch. Including me. And I'm sick of it. Adam, how do you always keep going without acting the way everybody else does during playoffs? I'm trying to stay cool-headed, but I just can't anymore."

All of a sudden, she threw her arms around him in a hug, tears afresh leaking from her eyes. Not knowing what to do with this behavior out of Connie, Adam brought a hand up and patted her back. "It's okay. I mean, it's hard on all of us right now," he replied to her complaints, choosing not to address her kind comment about him. If only she knew. "I'm sure Guy understands, too. He's probably just as tired as everybody else is."

"I know," she finally pulled back, wiping her face with her arm. "Thanks for listening."

"Yeah, of course," he answered as she turned to head out onto the ice.

But for the first time in memory, Adam didn't want to follow her out there. He didn't want to be at practice this morning-not after having given Orion a piece of his mind last night. But instead of lingering over what he didn't want to do, Adam, as always, strengthened his resolve and, feeling determined to knock this practice in the knees, grabbed his stick and headed out to the rink.

When the drills were over and the scrimmaging started, Adam played hard and didn't hold back. Or, well, maybe he did hold back a little with Connie, given what she'd just revealed to him.

When he had first joined the Ducks as a twelve-year-old, he was in awe of the fact that a girl played hockey. But as he got to know Connie, he came to learn it was more offensive to her for him to tread lightly than for him to fully check her just like he would another guy. So during scrimmages, he did-but never liked it. He felt the same way about girls on opposing teams. He knew he was generally regarded as a gentleman within the conference he played in. Hockey players all ended up with a reputation of some kind, whether they liked it or not. He didn't mind that title, and gave the credit for most of his manners to his good upbringing and time spent with Grandpa Greg growing up, who taught him almost everything he knew about how to treat women.

But he didn't want to be regarded as soft. If you're "soft" in hockey, it means you're not playing with everything you've got. And Adam most certainly gave all he had to this sport. During the scrimmage, he didn't shy away from forechecking to gain possession of the puck, and he drove it hard toward Goldberg, his skates moving so fast he caused Russ to hit the ice after his defense teammate attempted a lunge. When he neared Goldberg, he swooped the puck into the net after first deking to fake the goalie out. He was going to remind Orion today of who he'd been talking to yesterday about not being an A-game player.

It was a quiet practice, but focused, and the air practically smelled of frustration and bad nerves. It seemed to be exactly what Orion was using to drive the Ducks forward-their anger. And he had everyone feeling it fifteen minutes into practice. While Adam was giving it his all, so was everyone else. The hustle to gain the puck was harder, the defense tougher. The goalies' reflexes were quick and tense as if they were spring-loaded. Everyone was fighting on a level that Adam felt wasn't possibly sustainable. If the playoffs were a week away, would there be anything left of them by then?

The answer came during the last half hour of practice, from an unexpected source, and in a really scary way.

Orion had just landed for the third time into the weak defense he felt he was seeing from Team A, Fulton and Connie, and it was time for the last face-off. Adam and Jesse stood with sticks positioned, Adam gaining control of the puck right away. He shot it toward Luis who sent it sailing to Kenny, keeping it close to the boards and away from Team B. It looked like they were nearly going to make the shot, Adam sailing across for reinforcement, when Robertson was passed the puck and quickly finagled it, in fancy Robertson fashion, into the net past Goldberg.

"Woo, alright!" Robertson hollard. "We made it', Y'all! Seven to five!"

Adam and the rest of Team A gathered in a standard victory embrace when suddenly their attention was pulled over to the ice several feet away where Guy was kneeling in front of Fulton, who had his back against the boards and his legs out in front of him. Coach Orion was quickly approaching also, and suddenly everyone was skating over to form a huddle around the defenseman, whose helmet was finally removed by Guy as he was gasping for air.

"Somebody call nine-one-one!" Portman shouted. "He's having a heart attack!"

"Portman, slow down." Coach Orion put his arm out to stop the agitated guy. "Fulton, what's happening?"

Fulton was gasping for air, and began ripping off his gloves. "I-I think I'm dying. I can't breathe…" He could barely speak in between breaths.

"Does your arm hurt?"

Fulton shook his head no. "But can't… breathe…"

He began gulping in air at a faster pace. Next he started pulling at his jersey, indicating he wanted it off.

"Take it easy, Buddy," Russ tried to stop him.

But Fulton pulled away and, despite saying he was unable to breathe, lay down on the ice and pulled his knees into his chest. For a moment, everyone just stared, unable to do or say anything as Coach Orion was hastily skating to the other side of the rink where he kept the bag holding his cellular phone.

However, something about this felt very familiar to Adam. He briefly made eye contact with Julie before saying, "I think he's having a panic attack."

"A panic attack?" Jesse looked over. "What does that even mean?"

Adam knelt down beside Fulton, taking off his own helmet. "Fulton?" He attempted to speak very calmly. "Try breathing in through your nose slowly, then out through your mouth."

"He says he can't breathe. How's that going to help him?!" Agitation bled into Averman's tone, but Charlie put his hand on his shoulder. "Let him listen to Adam. He seems to know what he's talking about."

Fulton's eyes, fearful, made contact with Adam's, and he began to take slow, if shaky, breaths in and letting them out his mouth at Adam's coaching. "Smell the flower, blow out the candle," Adam instructed. It was a phrase that probably sounded dumb to everybody else, but he knew it worked for showing Fulton what he meant about breathing.

Julie came to the forefront and held out her arms to back everybody else up. "Fulton needs space, Guys. If we crowd him, it'll make it worse."

Some of the team protested, but most obeyed Julie and backed off. Adam was mostly focused on Fulton, finding himself breathing along with his friend.

Fulton whimpered between breaths, causing Adam to feel so sorry for the guy.

"It's okay. You're gonna be okay. Just breathe through this. And stare up at the scoreboard," Adam pointed. "Focus on the details while you breathe."

He could hardly believe how obedient Fulton was to everything he was telling him to do. But he guessed if a person was desperate enough, they might listen to someone who talked to them with calm and authority. And Fulton definitely looked desperate.

Coach Orion skated over rapidly once he was finished making the emergency phone call. "How is he?"

Fulton was still curled up on his side, but his eyes were fixed on the scoreboard hanging on the far wall, and Adam noticed his breathing had slowed considerably.

"I think he's going to be okay, but it's good he's going to the hospital. Just in case," Adam replied, standing up again.

The coach regarded Adam quizzically. "What were you out here doing with him?"

Adam suddenly felt self-conscious as the entire team was a few yards away, scattered out to stare at Fulton, then at him. "I just...helped him calm his breathing down. It was no big deal. I know someone who has this sort of thing happen to them sometimes. It can come from fear of different things." He felt boldness sneak back into his tone. "Like, of messing up, because someone's putting a lot of pressure on you and making you feel trapped."

Coach Orion regarded him for a moment before looking back down at Fulton, kneeling down in front of him. "It's alright, Buddy. You're gonna be okay."

Since Coach was now with Fulton, Adam hoped the guy would just remember everything he'd said to do, and he skated back over to the team.

"How did you know it was a panic attack?" Averman inquired. "And what exactly is a panic attack?"

"Pretty much what it sounds like. It's just something that…" Adam paused, looking to Julie to take over.

And she did. "It happens sometimes if too much stress is present. And we've all been under alot of that lately."

Adam glanced back over at Coach Orion who was still kneeling over Fulton, trying to encourage him to stay still until the ambulance came.

The Halloween debacle and what it had done to Lacey was bad enough. But he'd really only been present in the aftermath of that. He was with her another night not too long ago, after a game, at IHOP-the only place in Hopkins still open that late, and a step up from Waffle House-when two skinheads at a table close to them got into a big argument. As their voices rose, so did they, and one of them began shoving the other, who shouted expletives until the manager rushed over and told them firmly that they both had to leave. Adam had been quietly amused by the whole affair, not realizing what it had done to Lacey until he looked back over and saw her nearly hyperventilating. He immediately got up and slid into the booth seat beside her, taking her hand in one of his and trying to soothe her by rubbing her back with the other. It took probably close to twenty minutes for her to emerge from the fog of irrational fear, but she did. And the very minute Adam got home that night, he found himself on the Internet searching for information on panic attacks and how to help a person through them. It took awhile, but eventually he found a Geocities page belonging to a girl who suffered from them and had a list of tips on how to gain control in the midst of one. He pored over her suggestions and swore he'd carry them with him next time he was with Lacey. Who knew he'd be using them now, and with Fulton? Fulton was always very demure, quiet, and more than anything, tough as nails. To see him in the state he was only a moment ago was unsettling, but re-emphasized to Adam how real and disturbing panic attacks were. This was the very last guy Adam knew who would invent a thing like this for theatrics.

Soon the ambulance came and assessed Fulton. The team watched from a distance, the only one allowed close to him being Coach Orion, as he was wheeled out on a stretcher, bound for Abbott Northwestern. Coach then used his phone to call someone, presumably Fulton's dad, before he finally skated back across the rink to join them.

"Fulton's going to be fine. The EMT's are taking him in to do some tests just to be sure there's no underlying issues. Practice is canceled for today."

"Both practices?" Averman marveled.

"Both. Get some rest."

Orion reached up to rub his face, showing just how tired he was himself. He had been driving them hard, and Adam knew it was because he wanted them to succeed. But surely he knew something like this was bound to happen due to the team's exhaustion and pressure.

During school, Adam fell asleep three times. In Philosophy class, Mr. Sizemore simply came over and nudged him. In British Lit II, Ms. Nettles chastised him in front of everyone for falling over and slapping his right cheek on his textbook; but in Trigonometry, Ms. Aldrich just let him sleep. He'd always been a good student, so she must have figured one day of sleeping through a lecture on tangent and cotangent wouldn't hurt. Guy shared two of the three classes with him, and he could tell the other guy was dead on his feet, too. But at least Guy was able to hold his head upright, whereas Adam couldn't.

He was cheered, however, by the knowledge that he was free after school to do anything he wanted. What he needed to do was go to bed. But what he wanted to do was go see Lacey.

After school, he gathered up his books and dumped them into his backpack, hurrying out to his car in order to drive home and call her. He didn't like just showing up unannounced. His parents had always said that it was bad form, and even though Lacey's family was much less formal than his and probably wouldn't care if he just came and knocked on the door, his first instinct was still to call.

He looked at his watch, counting how long it usually took her to get home. She thankfully wouldn't be working today. Finally around three thirty he picked up the phone in the kitchen and dialed her number.

"Hello?" Halen answered politely.

"Halen? Hi, it's Adam. Is Lacey around?" He knew she must be if the twins were.

"She is. Hold on one moment," Halen instructed, sounding twenty-five-at least until she yelled, "LACEY! ADAM'S ON THE PHONE!"

Adam cringed, pulling the phone away from his ear.

It took some time, but finally Lacey picked up. "Hey!"

Something about her voice just then brought about the thing Adam hated the most about himself-his tendency to shed tears.

He wasn't sure if it was because he hadn't talked to her in a few days, because what happened to Fulton reminded him of her, or because he was exhausted and had no reserves left to fight off overwhelming emotions. Either way, he wiped away the tears that had begun falling down his cheeks, wanting to curse.

"Hello? Are you there?"

Taking a deep breath and pushing on, Adam finally replied. "Yeah, sorry. Hey, you won't believe this. Something happened with Fulton-I'll tell you about it in a little while-and Coach canceled practice today. I wanted to see if I could come over."

Lacey paused. "Is Fulton okay?"

"I think so," Adam replied. "I'm hoping Portman will call and leave a message for me tonight about what the doctor said. He'll probably be the first to know."

"Did he hurt himself playing?"

Adam shook his head. "No, it was…just a thing. I can tell you when I see you. If you're sure your mom doesn't mind…"

"No! You know you don't ever have to ask to come over here, Craziness. And you should. Because you're sounding...I don't know. Nothing like yourself."

"Yeah, trust me, I don't feel like myself, either. I'm just really tired. Okay, be there in a half hour?"

"Sure."

After they hung up, Adam grabbed his keys, left his parents a note, and took off. After all he'd been through during the last week, Lacey's easy breezy family life would be a welcome distraction. Twins and all.

/

Three hours later, Adam had eaten a huge portion of Stuart's lasagna, drank a half liter of Coke, and didn't even care.

He lay on Lacey's comforter, his head sunk into a stack of her throw pillows as she turned on the TV in her room. But immediately, she muted it.

"Do you think we should call Fulton to see if he's home?"

"No," Adam replied, eyes closed.

"Should we call Portman?"

"No."

"Coach Orion?"

"No."

"Adam, I know you care about what's going on with Fulton. Obviously. I mean you helped him through what I absolutely know was a panic attack."

"Yeah I know, Lacey, but I just…" he sat up a little, readjusting the pillows behind his back. "I'm tired of thinking about all of it. I mean, not tired of thinking about Fulton per se, but thinking about Fulton reminds me of practice, which reminds me of playoff stress, which I'm not handling so hot this year. What I really want is to just lay here."

Lacey blinked. "So in other words," she sat cross-legged beside him, "You want a break from hockey. That's weird."

"Mm," he closed his eyes again. "Well everybody needs a break from everything at some point. Can we just watch something?"

"Sure. What do you want to watch?" Lacey unmuted the TV. "Stargate's on…"

"Stargate's fine."

She settled in, snuggling up to him just as Stuart passed by the room. "Ah! Go' the door open nice 'n wide, then."

That was Stuart and Darlene's rule about him going up to Lacey's room, nevermind that she was now eighteen. Had they forgotten? But the last thing Adam wanted was to look indecent to her family, despite that the two of them weren't doing anything anyone shouldn't see.

"Door's open, as you can see, Stuart," Lacey replied, rolling her eyes.

"Good. This hoose is only open t'well-be'aved lasses."

Lacey and Adam both cracked a smile, never able to resist Stuart's good humor.

After the man was gone, Adam rolled over and rested his head in Lacey's lap.

"Adam, do you need to just go home and go to sleep?" Lacey inquired, stroking through his hair. "I'm happy to see you, but I want you to get rest if that's what you need, and I think it is."

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her nails massaging his scalp.. "No, I just want to be here."

They sat quietly for a while, watching Stargate, until Lacey muted the TV one more time. "Did it take a lot out of you to see Fulton that way?"

Adam felt mildly irritated that Lacey kept bringing up Fulton, but he took a deep breath, letting it out in a gust. "I think maybe it did."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Not really, just... it's hard seeing people you care about fight something you don't know how to fix."

"Turn around here and look at me."

Adam turned onto his back and gazed up at Lacey, studying the hoods at the corners of her brown eyes, which he loved. He smiled. "Hmm?"

"You have no idea what a calming presence you are. If I'd been Fulton at that moment, there's nobody else on the team I'd have picked to sit with me like that."

"Yeah?" Adam knew Lacey was biased, but could what she said be true? She should definitely know, due to her own issues. He had always felt he had only one thing to give to the world-hockey. And maybe money. But neither of those things did anything to help the people he cared about who struggled with inner demons like Lacey, and, today, Fulton. He felt inept at dealing with just about anything off the ice, actually. Yet, after what he'd experienced being around his girlfriend and what he'd read about panic attacks online, he wondered if maybe his new knowledge might be useful to people after all.

"Yeah." She ran her finger tenderly over his eyebrow, and the scar that was left there from the graze of Max's hockey stick. "You're kind of like my medicine when you're around me and I'm panicking. Remember IHOP?"

He snorted. "I do. And I'd thought I did a piss poor job of helping you there."

"No, Adam. You kept me calm and grounded." She leaned down and kissed his nose.

Adam felt teased and placed his hand behind Lacey's head, gently pulling her back down and brushing his lips against hers to give her the message that he was ready to lose himself to more than just her words.

Lacey smiled when she drew back, eyes twinkling, and Adam scooted around so they were lying face-to-face. His heart began to summersault as he eagerly wrapped his arms around her, taking her lips in a long, fervent kiss that melted his stress away like boiling water on ice. But he kept an ear open the entire time for someone to walk by her room, preparing to pull back quickly if he had to. It was seamless the way kissing Lacey led directly to, at some point, the two of them falling asleep, foreheads touching.

Next thing Adam knew he was hearing Darlene's voice. He sat up groggily, trying to register what she was saying.

"Get up, both of you. It's six thirty in the morning. What were you thinking?!"

Adam's senses snapped into place then. "What?"

"It's six thirty, Adam. You stayed here all night, do you realize that? Good thing I came by here and saw you both fully clothed. 'Cause I'm telling you right now, eighteen or not, nothing like that is happening in my house. Not when I have two twelve-year-olds sleeping one door over."

"Mom," Lacey was rubbing her eyes, "we just fell asleep. We were really tired. Can you please give me a minute to actually wake up before you start yelling?"

"I'm not yelling, I'm telling."

Not having to be told anything by Darlene twice, Adam immediately slid to the edge of Lacey's bed and stood up. "I'm sorry, Ms. Primmer, I didn't know what I… that I…" but words felt like mush in his mouth.

"Here." She tossed his car keys to him, which he must have left downstairs. "Go home. Your parents are probably wondering where you are if they're anything like me. And think twice next time you yawn while you're over here. Take the hint and leave, you got that? I don't want the girls getting the wrong idea. Or your dad going up on my rent because he thinks my daughter's corrupting ya."

"Yes ma'am. I'm sorry again." He pressed his hands over his wrinkled clothes, embarrassed beyond belief. "I'm going right now."

Adam looked back at Lacey, but didn't know what to say as she looked back at him, too, still sleepy and unable to register a good expression. He finally settled on a quick nod and left the room. Thankfully he didn't hear any actual yelling as he hustled down the stairs. Darlene had hopefully gotten as mad as she was going to get.

He walked quickly out to his car and fumbled with the keys, jumping in finally after he'd hit unlock. He then began the drive back to Edina, still in shock for a few minutes. But then he began to chuckle.

He was surprised at himself for laughing at first, but when he thought back to how comical the situation was and how Lacey's mom had reacted, he couldn't help it.

It was an accident. Nothing bad had happened, no one was harmed. Why should he take it so seriously, like he did everything? Some mistakes were worth laughing about, and this was one of them. He cracked up even harder when he remembered the look on Darlene's face when it had first come into focus after he'd opened his eyes.

But Adam managed to pull himself together and wipe the smile from his face as he reached his house. Who knew what the climate here was going to be like? Sure enough, as soon as he walked through the front door, he heard his mom's worried voice coming from the kitchen.

"I think that's him right now. Thank you, Ms. Primmer. Goodbye."

Oh man, Adam thought, taking a deep breath in the foyer and heading in.

His mom was still dressed in her pink fluffy robe and matching slippers, her hair braided across her shoulder as it was every night. She evidently hadn't been awake long. She wore a fretful expression, frowning slightly as she regarded him.

"Adam, you scared me, Son. That was Ms. Primmer. I called her and asked if you were there at her house, because when I woke up and saw your car gone and knew how tired you've been, I was terrified you'd been in an accident."

"Mom, I'm sorry," he took a few steps into the kitchen once she saw that she wasn't angry-not that she often was. "We didn't mean to upset people. We honestly just fell asleep watching Stargate. That's all. And yeah, I was definitely tired. That's why we didn't wake up til now."

Yvette took a deep breath. "I thought something like that at first-that maybe you'd stayed over at her house." Adam detected a faint rosiness in her mother's cheeks that likely came from embarrassment over the topic. He felt himself flush too. It was obvious what his mom had been thinking. "It's just that you haven't ever stayed over at anyone's house before, and I just wasn't sure."

"I know. Like I say, we didn't even realize we were that tired. We just zonked out," Adam shrugged.

His mom nodded, then was quiet for a moment, not seeming to know what to do next. Finally, she clutched her hands in front of her, fidgeting with them restlessly. "It's actually good this came up, you know. I've been wanting to talk about it–you seeing a girl at your age."

"Mom," Adam interjected. "I have to get ready for school, and to be honest, I don't want to have this conversation."

"I know you don't, Honey, and I'd rather not have it either. But it's important. You do realize that one day you're probably going to want things to go in a certain direction with Lacey… or whomever…and of course that's only if you haven't already done something I don't know about." She held up her hand quickly. "And I don't want to know if you have. I just want to say for the record that you need to remember two things: be safe, and be respectful. You know how your dad and I, and Grandpa Greg, have always taught you to respect women? Well that applies to intimate situations as well. If a woman says no...or if she has certain boundaries, which she should...always heed them."

"Mom," Adam knew his face was fire truck red. "I know. Thanks for reminding me, but you really don't have to."

"Just let me get this out," Yvette held her hand up again. "Protection is key. Make sure you have condoms, or that birth control of some kind is discussed and being used."

"Yes, okay. I know," Adam replied testily. "I promise I'll always be careful, Mom. Do you trust me?"

His mom's face melted into a smile. "Babe, of course I trust you. You've always been responsible. When you were little I joked to your dad once that you were a wise old man trapped in a seven-year-old body," she chuckled. "And I will say, I like how Lacey seems to be bringing out another side of you. You know, I found pizza sauce on the bear rug a couple weeks ago and Lynn ratted you guys out. You took pizza in there to eat in front of the fire, even though your dad would have murdered you."

Adam paused. "...Yeah, we did."

"Well why don't you do it again?" His mom shuddered. "I hate that hideous rug he insists on keeping just because Grandpa Kent shot that poor bear."

He chuckled.

Adam's teammates had teased him often about being a Mama's Boy, and he knew they were probably right. He remembered being very little, maybe three or four, and climbing into her lap, touching her face and winding his hands in her long hair, thinking she was the most beautiful person he knew. He still thought that-of course, now, second to Lacey.

But this conversation had been sufficiently awkward and he was ready to end it. "Mom, thanks for everything. I'll be responsible, I'll eat pizza on the rug and ruin it, and now I'm gonna go get ready for school." He came over and kissed her cheek. "Sorry for worrying you."

She nodded, waving him off. "I need more coffee. Don't wake your dad, he's finally taking a day off."

"I won't." Adam jogged up the stairs and into the bathroom, starting the water for a shower and pausing to look at himself in the mirror, realizing that the dark circles that had begun to shadow his eyes had minimized greatly just since yesterday. Finally, despite the "scandal" of it all, he'd had the first good night's sleep he'd had in months.

And Adam knew then that he could do this. He'd had a practice and a half off, he'd had good sleep, and had spent time with Lacey and a good...ish...conversation with his mom.

Playoffs can bring it on.