Chapter 21: Conference Final

Lakemont beat the semifinal on Friday, three to two, and Lars scored the last goal.

Saturday was the final, against St. Anselm, for the conference title.

Before the warm-up, a small woman in a winter coat found Ty in the tunnel and put a thermos in his hands.

"It's hot chocolate," Lars's mother said. "It's bad luck to play on an empty stomach."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't ma'am me." She patted his arm twice, firmly. "He told me you're the fast one."

"I'm the fast one."

"Good. Somebody has to be."

She walked off toward the stands, and Ty stood there holding a thermos and trying not to cry in front of a goalie.

"She likes you," Cullen said, sliding past in his pads. "That's a nine."

"Out of what?"

"Out of ten, you absolute child. My mom's a seven. She's in section C with a sign."

The sign said PRATT in glitter paint.

The rink was full, five thousand people in white and blue, and louder than Ty had ever heard it.

He had expected whispers after the photo. What he got was a chant, from the student section, in rhythm with their feet.

Ty. Ty. Ty.

It was ridiculous and he loved it.

The first period went scoreless. St. Anselm played tight and mean, and their defensemen leaned on every Lakemont winger who touched the puck.

In the second, St. Anselm scored on a rebound, and Lakemont answered with a power-play goal from Lars.

Then St. Anselm scored again.

At the end of two periods it was two to one, and the locker room was quiet.

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