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that.
    This time, when the linesman dropped the puck, I was able to get my stick on it before Tidwell. I swept the puck back to my left defenseman, winning the draw cleanly.
    Tidwell skated beside me and jabbed me in the side with his elbow in revenge.
    I ignored it and made a semicircle, then broke for open ice in the center. I took the pass back from my defenseman. With Tidwell coming in hard, I dumped it off to my left winger.
    Tidwell bumped me again.
    My winger dumped the puck in and I chased it.
    I knew what I was supposed to do. Get into the corner and fight their defenseman for the puck.
    Normally I’d slow my skating just enough to give the defenseman time to get the puck and move it to the other side. If he didn’t have the puck by the time I arrived, there was no point in mixing it up along the boards with him, right?
    This time I busted for the corner. Tidwell was right behind me. It put him out of position, but he must have wanted to get me good.
    Again, normally this would be a good time to swing back out and cruise for open ice, looking to intercept a pass. But Coach Thomas was watching.
    I found a little extra speed.
    The glass rattled as I smashed into their defenseman. The crowd roared. The defenseman fell to his knees. The puck squirted loose at my feet. I kicked it to my stick.
    Tidwell had committed to coming into the corner, and my right winger was wide open.
    The safe play, the one that would protect me, would be to get out of Tidwell’s way and let the puck go.
    But playing safe was going to get me cut from this team.
    I concentrated on the puck. Waited until the last second, then flipped it over Tidwell’s stick and along the ice to my right winger.
    That left me open, my back to the boards, my chest facing Tidwell.
    As he came in, he lifted an elbow. His body slammed into mine, lifting me off the ice. His elbow smashed my head, and my helmet banged against the glass.
    I began to fall, and Tidwell hit me with another elbow.
    Dimly, I understood that the crowd’s noise had risen to another level. On my knees, I saw why. The puck was in the net.
    We’d scored.
    But that didn’t matter. Not compared to the pain that had exploded along my jaw as if I’d swallowed a porcupine filled with dynamite.
    I tried to say something. But couldn’t.
    Warmth filled my mouth. I spat. Saw blood. My tongue hit something sharp.
    I spat again. Saw a piece of a tooth.
    Seconds later the guys on my team were standing around me. I couldn’t get up.
    It seemed like forever until the trainer arrived. I kept spitting blood, kept wondering if more pieces of teeth would follow the blood.
    When the trainer got there, he helped me to my feet.
    â€œGreat play, Ray,” he said. “We tied the game, and Tidwell’s got a major penalty.”
    â€œGreat,” I mumbled back. My head felt like a busted watermelon. “Really great.”
    I wasn’t there for the rest of the game, but I heard later the Tigers scored two more goals during the power play, and the score stayed 3–1 to the final buzzer.
    Somehow that didn’t make me feel much better.

chapter nine
    The good news was that I hadn’t broken my jaw. The bad news was that one of my bottom front teeth had snapped. Dental surgery was scheduled for the next morning, when Dr. Dempster had some staff who could assist him.
    In the meantime, Dr. Dempster had given me some powerful painkillers. I wished, though, that the painkillers also worked as sleeping pills.
    It was 2:00 AM, and all I could do was stare at the ceiling and try not to think.
    Ever done that? The more you tell yourself not to think about something, the more you think about it.
    I told myself not to think about Amanda. That made me see her long black hair against the light blue sweater and her beautiful smile. Made me wonder if she would ever go on a date with me instead of helping me with math. Of course, to find out, I’d have to ask her. But I