Cole’s POV

The final horn sounded like a gunshot echoing through my skull, but the game was already over in my head.

NORTHRIDGE WINS: 2-1.

My team flooded the ice around our goalie, screaming, slamming their sticks against the boards, and celebrating a massive victory over Westford. I didn't join the pile. I couldn't. Pain was roaring up my left arm in violent, sickening waves, radiating from my wrist all the way into my shoulder socket. Beneath the thick leather guard and the layers of white pressure tape, the doctor’s six rapid stitches were pulling tight against raw, open flesh, and fresh red blood was already seeping through the cotton....