| Brielle rubbed her temples for the second time in two days, glancing up at the scoreboard just as she did the night prior. This was her first game as an unofficial head coach, Glenn was basically standing at the back of the bench and watching her do her thing, and her team was losing. But only by one goal. If they got the game-tying goal, they had a chance at winning in overtime. Even if they didn�t win, a tie could help their efforts to get to the playoffs. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, with about three minutes left in the third period, Kris Beech stole the puck from a Flames forward with a simple poke check and got himself a breakaway. He was skating hard up the ice, the puck at the end of his stick, headed almost blindly toward the goal. He was being chased by one lone defensemen for the Flames, and Brielle�s eyes began to light up as the crowd sitting in the stands began rising to their feet and cheering for Kris to put the puck in the back of the net. Brielle�s mouth dropped as she watched the scene unfold in front of her eyes. It was like watching a car wreck; as much as she didn�t want to watch it, she had to keep her eyes glued to it. The defensemen that was tailing Kris somehow got within inches of him right as he took a shot. The puck found it�s way into the net, giving the Penguins the goal they so desperately needed. But the defensemen wasn�t happy with this, skated over to Beech and quickly butt-ended him in the stomach with his stick. Kris fell to the ice in pain, gasping for air and grabbing at his stomach. Brielle knew full well that it was frowned upon when coaches went to the ice if a player was down, but she didn�t care. Kris was beginning to cough, and flecks of blood were escaping his mouth with it. She was the first to reach him, followed quickly by Patrick, the Athletic Trainer. �Beechie, breath for me,� she said, dropping to her knees on the ice in front of him. She was lucky she had decided to wear khaki pants to that game instead of her usual skirt. �I am,� he gasped back. �But it�s not easy.� He began coughing again, and there was definitely blood coming from his mouth and landing on the bottom of her shirt. Within moments, he was taken off the ice, and immediately put into an ambulance and driven to the hospital. With the rush surrounding Kris, Brielle almost completely forgot that the team was going into overtime and was still trying to win the hockey game. The two teams ended up tied, the perspective goalies making it hard to score goals in the ten minute overtime period. Immediately after the game, Brielle was on the phone with a doctor at the hospital, who was saying that Kris needed to stay overnight for observation; when the defensemen butt-ended him, the end result was what they thought was a bruised lung. She said that she would be at the hospital soon, and the instant she hung up the phone, Toby was knocking at her door saying that Patrick needed to see her about Mac�s shoulder and that the newspapers needed quotes from her on her new Head Coach status, since Glenn had gone directly to the press conference after the game and announced his resignation. Brielle headed straight to the therapy room to find Patrick and Mac looking over the X-rays that were taken in between the second and third periods; Patrick pointed out that Mac had a cyst in his shoulder that needed to be removed as soon as possible, which meant that Kris wasn�t the only forward from the Penguins that was going to be spending some time in a hospital bed. After she dealt with Mac�s shoulder problems, she headed to the conference room to discuss the Head Coach status, gave a short statement and apologized because she had to leave early to check up on Kris. When she got to the hospital, he was lying in bed, staring out the window with his arm behind his head. �Hey Beechie,� she said softly, walking into the room and shutting the door behind her. He turned his head and smiled. �Hey Coach,� he replied with a grin. Brielle raised her brows. �Stop that with the Coach stuff or I�ll bench you,� she said, smiling. �Do you see a locker room?� She didn�t give Kris a chance to even smile, before she said, �No, so knock it off. I would�ve brought you flowers, but I�m not sure you would�ve appreciated them as much as your sister would. How you feeling?� He shrugged slightly. �Could be better. Could be worse.� �How could you be worse?� she asked. �You were coughing up blood, and my favorite blue shirt is now sufficiently stained,� she said, holding out the bottom of her shirt, which was now speckled with red dots. Kris frowned. �I could be in a coma. And I�m sorry about your shirt, I�ll replace it.� �Don�t worry about it,� she said, shaking her head, �I have about three more of this same shirt,� she said with a small laugh. �I�m more concerned with my best utility forward.� Kris forrowed his brows in confusion. �Kotsy�s fine, he got a goal, you shouldn�t be concerned with him.� �Stop underestimating yourself, you big idiot,� she said, rolling her eyes. �Don�t be stupid.� �I�m not being stupid, I�m taking note of the fact that I don�t have an A on my jersey,� Kris said with a small pout. �Not that I want one or anything, it�s just a dumb letter�� he trailed off, throwing in his sweet and innocent �awe shucks� smile for effect. Brielle raised her eyebrows. �There�s gonna be a lot of changes now that Glenn is leaving. Don�t you worry about who has letters on their jerseys; I can guarantee that you�re getting one.� She paused while Kris smiled. �And these letters are gonna be permanent. No rotating. I�m the new coach around here, and there�s gonna be a lot of changes.� |
 |
|
|
|