13 January 2016 – Devens Regional High School, Shirley, Massachusetts

Sabrina held her head in her hands, trying to will her headache away.

‘One mistake … Again, one mistake cost us the game …’

“Sorry, Sabrina,” Molly muttered. “We let you down again.”

Sabrina lifted her head. “Team loss, Molly,” she replied with a tired smile. “The team lost, not me.”

“Still …”

“One-and-seven …” Fran sighed.

“We’re close, Fran. I can feel it, we’re close to a winning streak.” Sabrina mopped the sweat off her face with a towel.

“I’m not sure what’s been worse,” Sarah muttered, “getting our ass kicked by North Middlesex the first game, or losing the rest by single goals.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina sighed in agreement. “I hate to say it, but even the win over Groton-Dunstable last week was too close. We almost lost that game. If they hadn’t been offside … It’s gonna be hard, but we’ve gotta keep plugging away.”

The other girls nodded.

‘God, Coach loves his conditioning drills after a loss …’ Sabrina thought during her drive home from school the next afternoon. ‘I’m going to bed early tonight, that’s for sure!’

She stopped next to the mailbox at the end of her driveway. She groaned getting out of the car and wobbled over to it. Sabrina stood in the snow staring at the open mailbox. A big, fat, white envelope, half folded over on itself, lay stuffed inside. Sabrina wiggled it free – it bore the return address of the Admissions Department at the United States Air Force Academy.

‘A BFE! Holy shit, I got a BFE! A big frikking envelope!’

Back in the car, Sabrina’s hands shook as she opened the envelope. Taking a deep breath, she slid the contents out onto the passenger’s seat. Her eyes stared at the words ‘Dear Appointee’ on the cover letter.

The car kept the neighbors from hearing her screams of joy. The happy tears started after that. She backed the car onto Hilltop Road after her vision cleared. She pointed it toward Clinton. She soon parked in front of the dojo where her parents would teach that evening.

Sabrina may or may not have broken the speed limit getting there.

Wiping her face once more Sabrina stepped out of the car. She forced herself to walk – not run – to the front door.

“Hey, Princess,” her dad said from the edge of the mat. He did a double take. “Are you okay? Have you been crying?”

She smiled and held up the letter from USAFA.

“You’re in?” he asked with a big smile. Sabrina nodded and launched herself at her father. He hugged her and whirled her around. “I’m so proud of you!” he croaked.

“Jeffrey?”

“Our youngest has good news to share with us, Keiko-chan.” He handed the letter to his wife.

Keiko’s hug was less physical but no less emotional. She whispered words of praise and congratulations to Sabrina.

“I’m gonna see if Pete wants a visitor,” she told her parents. “You guys have work to do.”

“Call your grandparents too, Princess. Don’t forget to call Grandma Jane, either.”

“I’ll make sure I call them. Alex, too.”

She hugged her parents and walked out to her car.

“Hey, Pete,” she said into her phone.

“You miss me already? Didn’t you see enough of me today?”

“You know I can’t get enough of you. You and your mom want to go out for dinner? I want to share some news with you two.”

“‘Off we go, into the wild, blue yonder! Soaring high, into the sun!’” the ragged chorus sang as Sabrina approached them in front of the school.

“Please tell me you guys won’t ever sing again. Artists of the Year you ain’t …” Her friends pelted her with snowballs.

“Ungrateful wench,” Pete chastised. He brushed snow off her shoulder before kissing her. “Congratulations. You’re the first of us to hear about college. Well, of those of us who are going to college.”

“You guys will hear soon, I’m sure.”

“I’m not too worried about getting into the CJ program at Fitchburg State,” Shawn shrugged. “I’m confident I will. Mom and Dad aren’t too sure about my wanting to be a cop, but I am. I think that came across during my interview.”

Sabrina gently punched his shoulder. “Five-year program, right?”

“Yeah. College classes, police academy time, and my master’s. I have to maintain a minimum GPA to automatically get into the police academy, too.”

Sabrina stopped short when she saw her locker. It was festooned with blue and silver streamers, pictures of fighter jets and NASA rockets, glitter-covered stars, and a big ‘AIM HIGH!’ sign.

“You guys …” Sabrina sniffed.

“As I told you, Sabrina,” Ruby said, “you’re going places.”

Sabrina stepped onto the ice at Groton-Dunstable High School the following Friday. Another tough loss to Acton-Boxborough two days earlier had dropped their record to one-and-eight. She hoped the breathing exercises the team practiced before leaving the locker room would help today.

She tried to push the swirling thoughts out of her head and concentrate. She practiced some stick-handling drills before lining up to shoot on her goalie. As she curled away from the net, she looked into the stands. A group wearing the blue-white-and-black of the Fitchburg Shockers stood as one.

“LET’S GO, WARRIORS!” Their yell drowned out the other noise in the rink. Sabrina pointed to acknowledge them.

“Guys, come here,” she called to her starting line before the face-off. “Look, we’ve been close all season. This close!” she said, holding her thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart. “Put it all together today! Show Coach and our families that the early mornings and late practices haven’t all been for nothing! Show our friends we’re thankful for their support.” She looked each player in the eye. “We can do this! Let’s set the tempo! Right from the start!”

The Warriors attacked as soon as the puck dropped. They pushed hard through their first shift. The next line picked it up and pushed harder.

“That’s the energy we need!” Coach yelled at his players on the bench. “Varying shift lengths, guys! We’re gonna keep ’em guessing today! Stay hydrated!”

Groton-Dunstable looked like they were standing still next to the Warriors. The Devens forwards crashed the net and kept G-D on their heels. Warriors defensemen kept the puck pinned in G-D’s end. Crisp passing spun the G-D players’ heads around. Molly Ryan snapped a quick pass to Timmy Cernan, who slapped it in for the Warriors’ first goal.

“YES!” Sabrina shouted from the bench. She bumped gloves with the rest of the team, and with the line on the ice as they skated by.

“Keep the pressure on!” Coach yelled. “Don’t let up!”

Devens led two-nothing at the first intermission.

“This is the effort I’ve been waiting all year to see!” Coach told the team in the locker room. “This is what I knew you were capable of! Two more periods! Keep it up!”

The home crowd tried to encourage the G-D Crusaders but a quick goal from Devens rocked them. The G-D goalie was game, stopping shot after shot, but the Devens onslaught kept producing goals.

The Crusaders tried to intimidate Devens with hard-hitting, physical attacks but that plan ended when Sabrina leveled their largest defender with a clean check. The partisan crowd clamored for a penalty, but none came.

“I thought you were known for being unhittable, Sabrina?” Charlie Brace, the third line’s sophomore left wing asked after the next line change.

“Still am, Charlie. I’m the one who did the hitting!”

“Four-nothing. Never thought I’d see us in this position!”

“Don’t lose focus, Charlie. The Bruins scored three third period goals a few years ago, remember? Then they won in OT. Two minutes left in the second period here, then there’s the whole third … It can happen …”

“Buzzkill …”

“Ha! The buzzkill would be losing this game five-four.”

“Change up!”

Sabrina vaulted the boards.

Half an hour later the Devens players reveled in the unfamiliar feeling of victory. The noise approached painful levels. Coach Bramhall’s shrill whistle cut through the dressing room din.

“All right! Enjoy the feeling, guys. You earned it! Monday we’re right back at it. We’ve got North Middlesex next Wednesday, in their building. As hard as you worked for the victory today it’ll take even more effort to beat the top team in our league.”

“Nothing like a reality check …” Pete whispered to Sabrina on the way to their bus.

“Coach is right, Pete. We know what defeat feels like. It’ll take more wins before we’re accustomed to how winning feels.”

“Sabrina, got a sec?” Sabrina turned at the sound of the deep voice. She craned her neck up to the face almost a foot above hers.

“Hey, Robert.” Robert Thomas was a senior like Sabrina, a starting defensive end on the DRHS football team.

“Hey. Have you heard about Caroline and Chad’s party?”

Sabrina blinked. She hadn’t paid attention to anything related to the Perfect Couple in months. The fact that Robert asked her about them was surprising, too.

“The Plastic People and I don’t move in the same circles, Robert, or see eye-to-eye for that matter. And to be honest, you haven’t said word one to me since freshman year so I’m a little surprised you’re doing so now …”

“I’ve heard they’re planning to invite you to their party. You’re going to the Air Force Academy, right?”

“Yeah?”

“So, in a couple of years, you’ll probably be watching me play the Falcons when Army comes to play.” Home football games were required activities for all cadets at USAFA.

Sabrina needed a second to catch up. “Wait, you’re going to the Point?”

“Yeah, they’ve been recruiting me for football and my appointment came through last week. I’ll be part of West Point’s Class of 2020 if I survive Beast Barracks this summer.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. That brings me back to your question of why I’m talking to you. You know they can rescind our appointments if we screw up before we report, right? Being arrested, poor academic effort, that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, again, but – so?”

“So, the Slaves to Appearance are gonna try to trip you up before graduation.”

Sabrina’s face hardened. “Do they know what happens when people attack me?”

“They should, but just because they’re intelligent doesn’t mean they’re smart.” Robert looked away for a moment.

“Sabrina, I grew up down the street from Mr. Oglethorpe. That’s why I avoided you back then. The incident with you in Eighth Grade destroyed him. His reputation evaporated and he moved away. Mom explained how bad he was to women, but I didn’t get it. By the time it sunk in we’d already formed our opinions of each other.

“Two years ago, when those guys broke into your house and you handled it, I listened to people like Cassie far too much. After the Halloween attack you were so wrapped up in the fallout, and us in our respective seasons, that I didn’t take the chance to apologize when I could have. I should have.

“I don’t know what Cassie, Caroline, and that crowd are planning exactly, but watch your back. I know your friends watch out for you too, so if they hear about what those asshats want to do …”

“Scorched Earth, Robert. My friends will go nuclear, which could backfire on them as well.”

“Right. The subtle approach might be better in this case.”

“I’m gonna destroy them!”

“Calm down, Wheels,” Shawn cautioned Erica. “We need to figure this out and come up with the best way to handle it.”

“Sabrina,” Sarah cut in, “Cassie’s main argument against you is that you’re violent. Anyone who plays with you now or did in Fitchburg knows that’s not true, but all we heard about the attacks is that some people broke into your house. We heard you took care of them but again, that’s it. Is there more to the story? Something you could use to make Cassie and her bunch shut up?”

“She’s right, Sabrina,” Ruby said. “We’ve played this so close to the vest that anyone not involved only knows half the story. Less than half, actually.”

“That’s where we start,” Shawn proclaimed. “We start with the kids you play hockey with and give ’em the straight scoop. Then we go on the attack, but in a round-about way.”

“Meaning what, Shawn?” Sabrina asked.

“After we push the full story out there, we work on discrediting Cassie, Caroline, and anyone else who talks smack about you. They weren’t there and they don’t know shit!”

“Okay, but I still don’t get how we’re gonna do that …”

Shawn’s smile reminded Sabrina of her mother’s feral smile.

“So that’s what we’re going to do if they keep this up, Mr. Lanier; and why,” Sabrina explained to her principal later that day.

The principal sat quietly and considered Sabrina and Shawn’s proposal.

“You understand that you could bring down a firestorm of complaints with this. There are going to be some parents who will be upset. They will object that you’ve exposed their precious children to unpleasant truths about the world outside these walls.”

Sabrina stared at her school’s chief administrator. “Mr. Lanier, I watched those people murder a police officer. Shawn’s father is an officer in Littleton as you know. My father has worked alongside the men and women in blue for over twenty years, people he trusts to have the backs of him and his crews, while they try to save the lives of others.” Her eyes burned with even greater intensity.

“Those vermin wanted to drag me into their cesspool, to sell me into a life of slavery and pain. The ‘unpleasant truths’ you speak of already exist inside and outside these pristine walls. Those men forced me to expose those truths. They attacked my home, twice! I refuse to allow anyone to slander me, especially if they deny reality and close their minds to it! ‘Nemo me impune lacessit.’”

“I see you’ve inherited your father’s penchant for using quotes, Sabrina.” Phil Lanier sighed. “Very well, I’ll allow the flyers should they become necessary. Please keep any images and language you use on the conservative side, or I may change my mind.”

“That’s why they broke into your house? And then they tried it again?”

“You can’t cure stupid, Robert. And why does the reason behind the break-ins matter? If another country tries to invade, are we going to care why they’re invading?”

“No, you’re right – we’d just worry about kicking their asses back to wherever they came from.”

“Right. So, will you help us?”

“Yes. And I’ll talk to my teammates, too. I’m sure some of them will help out.”

Sabrina updated her friends at lunch.

“Okay, so that’s the football and hockey teams accounted for.”

“We shouldn’t assume all of them will agree with us, Naomi, but we can probably count on most of them,” Erica pointed out. Naomi shrugged and nodded in agreement.

“What do you think those privileged idiots will do when the tide turns against them?”

“I don’t know, Desiree,” Sabrina replied, “but bullies like Cassie tend to crumble under pressure and blow away.”

After lunch, Sabrina saw that Robert and his friends had put up flyers in the school’s hallways. ‘I guess they deemed them necessary …’ Up ahead she saw Chet angrily tearing them down as he found them.

“HEY, CHET!” she yelled. He stopped and turned. She stepped up to him and pulled the flyers from his hand. “Truth hurts, huh? Trying censorship now?”

“You’re proving our argument for us!” he sputtered.

“Then why not leave them up, hotshot?” Molly snapped. “Is it because only some of the facts fit the story you’ve spun?”

Chet turned red and stomped away. Two students watching the drama replaced the downed flyers once he disappeared.

“Thanks, guys,” Sabrina said while bumping fists with them.

“You bet. The football team will have the whole school covered by the end of the day, and we’ve made lots of flyers to replace any that disappear. They can’t tear them all down.”

“Like I told Robert, just keep them clean, okay? We don’t want Mr. Lanier to make us take them down.”

“Well, I suppose losing to North Middlesex by only two goals this afternoon is an improvement,” Pete sighed.

“Better than losing by six any day …” Sabrina muttered. They lay on Pete’s bed curled up together. “Still, I can tell we’re getting better. That win over Groton-Dunstable last week gave us a real shot in the arm. We’re not gonna win the league this year. Heck, we might not even make the playoffs.”

“Two-and-nine and you’re still thinking playoffs? We won’t make the playoffs even if we win the rest of our games!”

“We stayed with those guys the whole game, Pete. The only reason we lost was a couple of lucky redirects. Without those, the game would have gone into overtime.”

“And as one saying goes ‘If my grandmother had wheels, she’d be a wagon!’”

“Look, we just keep playing with that kind of intensity and we’ll break out.”

“I know,” Pete sighed in agreement. “We’re helping build a good foundation for the next few years. Too bad we won’t be around to see the team prosper.”

“Anyway, our homework’s done. Why are we talking about hockey instead of other … subjects?” She pulled him in for a kiss.

The team improved through the season. The Warriors out-skated Concord-Carlisle that Friday. They won going away, six-one. Most of the team sat in Robert Thomas’ barn later that night, laughing. Most of her friends and the other sports teams were at the party as well. In deference to Robert’s USMA appointment – and Sabrina’s to USAFA – there was no alcohol.

Sabrina looked around and smiled. This is what she hoped her high school memories would contain, not the shunning she endured earlier. Her friends mixed with the others here and were having a good time.

“Who knew Erica was so good at darts?” Pete asked. “She’s beaten everyone she’s played so far.”

“Unreal, huh? The people she beat don’t look like they care, either.”

“It was cool of Robert to invite us tonight.”

“I’m glad we’ve finally made some friends outside of our circle, too.”

“Have you gotten tired of us?” Pete asked with a smile. “Or are you just getting around to telling us?”

“Well, there are only so many times I can hear Shawn’s jokes …” She jerked away when Pete tickled her.

“Do you think we’ve heard the last of Cassie and her group?”

“Doubt it. Making the playoffs is more realistic.” Pete put his arm around her again. “Less than four months to go.”

“I can’t believe it. It’ll go quick, too.”

Sabrina rested her stick across her knees as she stared down the rink. She shifted her gaze to the puck waiting for her at center ice. She exploded out of her crouch at the whistle.

There was no slow weave across the ice as she’d seen with some penalty shots. Sabrina charged at the opposing goalie. Staring at him she faked a forehand wrister. He bit on the fake and raised his glove and slid to that side. She braked and drifted backward. He sprawled and tried to poke-check the puck away from her.

‘Gotcha, sucker!’

Sabrina chipped a forehand shot over the prone goalie into the wide-open net. The Warriors players fell over themselves laughing and cheering. Coach Bramhall signaled a line change. He put his hand on Sabrina’s shoulder after she sat down.

“Pavel Datsyuk, huh?” Corey Bramhall asked, referencing the great Soviet player who joined the NHL during one of his country’s periods of ‘openness.’

“I’ve always wanted to try one of his moves, Coach!”

“As a former goalie, I think I’m offended!” he said, nudging her helmet before walking away shaking his head.

“Holy shit, that was sweet!” Vic Thurmond laughed. “I think the goalie had to head back to the locker room to put his equipment back on! You undressed him!”

“Hey, we’ve only got four games left in our season counting this one. I might never get a chance to try that move again! I had to learn it after I watched that shootout!”

“I think everybody is gonna be practicing that move now that we’ve seen you do it!”

“Anything to help us win. We’re not gonna make the playoffs, but we can at least get back to .500!”

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can teach you, Sabrina,” Miriam Danforth commented.

“It’s all right, Miriam …” Sabrina answered as she pointed the Cessna back toward Hanscom Field.

“I could see if there’s a jet instructor pilot around if you’d like?”

“Tempting. If the Air Force doesn’t send me to jet pilot training, I might look into it, but I’ll hold off for now. I’ll just build hours over the next few months.”

“You’ve picked up some unique qualifications at seventeen: a private pilot’s license, instrument and multi-engine ratings, complex aircraft rating. No tail-dragger endorsement, though. We still have time to add that to the list before June.”

“I think Dad wants me to be able to drive a car with a manual transmission before I leave. That might fill up the next few months.”

“That and your karate.”

“Yeah. I’m bummed the academy doesn’t offer a karate club or women’s hockey. I might sign up for aikido. Learning another martial arts discipline might be useful.”

“Air Force doesn’t have women’s hockey?”

“Nope, not at any level.” Sabrina shook her head. “After the stink I made over not being able to play at my school, I pick a college that doesn’t offer it at all.”

“Can you force them to add it? Like you did to your high school?”

“Would you believe the service academies are exempt from Title IX?”

“Really?”

“No joke. I want to see what things are like out there before I start making that kind of noise, anyway. Plus, I doubt I’ll be the only female cadet there who misses the game.”

“I still don’t get why Framingham North is even on our schedule,” Pete griped. “It’s not like we’re in the same league.”

“Non-conference games, Pete. Like when the Patriots play teams outside the AFC East.”

“I guess. I hear Framingham’s kind of physical.”

“Like Amesbury?”

“Worse.”

“Great. At least we’re playing them at home.”

The Warriors were on a four-game winning streak, their record now nine-and-nine. They had a chance for a winning season if they beat Framingham North High School.

“I added some new music to our warm-up playlist,” Shawn mentioned before the game.

“Like what?” Vic asked.

“You’ll see.”

The first thing the team saw was the crowd packing the rink.

“I’ve never seen the place this full!” exclaimed freshman Jeremy Brenneman.

“Me either, Jeremy,” Sabrina replied. “Of course, there hasn’t been a team while I’ve been here, so that might be why.” Brenneman rolled his eyes at her.

Shawn’s improved playlist belted out Queen’s ‘We Will Rock You’ during warm-ups, whipping the home crowd into a lather.

Framingham North set the tone as soon as the puck dropped. Three Warriors hit the ice after the puck did. The referee saw none of it.

“So, that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” Shawn muttered after their goalie made a great stop.

“Fire with fire,” Vic muttered back.

“Clean hits,” Sabrina reminded her line. “Hit ’em hard, but if it’s gonna be borderline, back off.”

“Hey!” the referee yelled. “Line up for the face-off before I charge you for a time-out!”

“Figures we’d get a bunch of unknowns refereeing the game today …” Sabrina mumbled to herself. Their team hadn’t seen this officiating team before.

The officials called a tight game. A close observer would notice more calls going against Devens than Framingham. They certainly weren’t calling Framingham for the repeated cross-checks to the Devens center’s back and head as he took a position in front of the Spartan’s goal.

“Dingo, rotate out to left wing during our next shift,” Sabrina told her teammate late in the first period. “Let me take center for a bit.”

“Sabrina, that guy’s gonna take your head off! The ref’s not calling any of those hits!”

“Trust me.”

As Phil Scott predicted, Sabrina kept getting hit in the back of the head without a penalty being called. After the sixth or seventh time, she drove her stick into the opposing player’s crotch while making it look like her elbow made contact with his stomach. This was no love-tap to get his attention. She tried to break his cup. The other player dropped.

<FWEEE!> “Sixty-three, Green! Two minutes for elbowing!”

Sabrina was lucky. If the referee had whistled her for spearing, he could have assessed a game misconduct penalty. The other Spartans tried to rough Sabrina up, but the Warriors jumped to her defense. The linesman waded into the scrum to break it up.

“Tell your buddy to keep his stick on the ice!” Sabrina yelled to Framingham’s captain while the linesman pushed her to the penalty box. “It’ll be less painful for him!”

“Any more out of you, Sixty-three, and it’ll be another two minutes for unsportsmanlike!” the referee cautioned her. Boos rained down from the partisan crowd.

“The color of their jerseys is called ‘white,’ you know? Your buddy might try using that on some of the penalties he’s calling.”

“Not another word, Sixty-three! Get to the box!”

As the penalty box official closed the door behind Sabrina, the boos changed to chants of “BULL! SHIT! BULL! SHIT!” Sabrina smiled, reclined against the side of the penalty box, put her feet up on the bench, and her hands behind her head.

“Comfortable?” the official chuckled.

“No, actually, I am distressed by the lack of amenities in here. No throw pillows? And where’s the TV? Do you guys at least have free wi-fi?” The official shook his head.

Sabrina skated back to her bench after the successful penalty kill and sat with her line mates.

“You think you might want to tell me if you’re planning something like that, Sabrina?” her coach whispered into her ear after bumping the back of her helmet.

“Sorry, Coach. Dad always taught me it was better to ask forgiveness than permission …”

“We’ve discussed my opinion of your father, right?” Sabrina knew Coach was kidding – sort of. Coach grumbled about her father’s school beating Coach’s for the state championship all the time, but the two men respected each other. “And how about we find a way to get the point across to Framingham that doesn’t involve penalty minutes on our part?”

“That does sound like a better plan, Coach.” Again, he cuffed her on the back of the head.

Devens filed into their dressing room five minutes later for the intermission. The score stood tied at zero despite the heavy action.

“All right! Despite our better efforts, we’re still tied with these goons. I don’t want anyone else taking matters into their own hands, am I clear? Our captain is lucky she only got two for elbowing and not a game misconduct. If the ref had seen her actual hit, she’d have been gone. We need everyone in this locker room available to us if we’re going to win.

“Play smart! I’m not going to stand here and tell you not to take chances but take smart chances! Aggressive forechecks! Move without the puck! Finish your checks! Make these guys work for it!”

The hard hits from both teams continued when play restarted in the second period. The officials started calling Framingham for more offenses. The Spartans had become a little too free with their elbows for the referee not to notice. The Warriors capitalized on their first power play, jumping ahead one-nothing, but Framingham soon tied the score.

“That one wasn’t Stu’s fault,” Pete commented from the bench as he watched Framingham celebrate their goal. Devens’ sophomore netminder had been nothing short of brilliant all game. “We need to do a better job clogging up the passing lanes and clearing the puck.”

“Do you guys even need me at this point?” Coach Bramhall asked from behind the bench.

“Coach, you know we need adult supervision at all times,” Vic Thurmond replied.

“I know you do, Thurmond … Line change!” Sabrina’s line vaulted the boards.

Framingham continued to punish Devens whenever the home team tried to get close to the net. They also contested every puck elsewhere on the ice. Sabrina could see her team’s superior speed was starting to chip away at their opponent, however. A nifty bang-bang passing play gave the Warriors a two-one lead just before the second intermission.

“I think they’re starting to run out of steam,” Sabrina said to Shawn Hurt as they walked back to the dressing room.

“We gotta keep up the pressure, then. I’d like for my last hockey game to end in a win for the good guys.”

“Our conditioning’s good enough. We should be able to run them ragged by the end of the game.”

Coach Bramhall gave another quick speech before letting his team rest.

“Hey! Where are my seniors?” he asked outside the locker room on the way back to the ice. The seniors raised their hands. “This is it, lady and gentlemen. This is your last chance to show me why you’re the on-ice leaders of this team. Don’t hold back, got it?” The seniors nodded. “All right, let’s get out there and do it!”

Once more the hits started when the puck dropped. The Warriors didn’t shy away from contact and soon took control of the puck. The first line burned three minutes off the clock with quick, crisp passes in Framingham’s zone. Devens was patient, looking for an opening they could exploit. The cracks soon formed as Framingham tired from the constant movement.

The Spartan’s goalie turned away the resulting shot, allowing his team to take possession again, but that only let Devens start checking again. A solid hit from Shawn Hurt caused a Framingham player to lose the puck in the neutral zone. Sabrina swooped in and charged for the opposing goal while the rest of her line changed up. Sabrina faced two Spartan defenders and couldn’t get a clean shot on net.

Sabrina circled behind the goal and passed off to a teammate before she skated hard to the bench. Coach thumped her on her shoulder pads a couple of times to say ‘nice work’ as she drank deeply from a water bottle. She could see Framingham tire even more as the Warriors continued their game of keep-away.

The consequence of this was an increase in physicality from the Spartans. They became more willing to hit Warriors players when they didn’t have the puck. The officials seemed content to let play continue.

Three more minutes went by, and Sabrina’s line retook the ice. They killed another minute before a Spartans defenseman laid a crushing check on Shawn in the corner, forcing a turnover. The defenseman gathered the loose puck and fired it up-ice to one of his wingers. Stu Mortensson tried his best to thwart the breakaway but to no avail. Framingham tied the score at two.

Lost in the action was Shawn Hurt skating to the bench in obvious pain.

“Shoulder,” he groaned to the trainer, who confirmed it was dislocated. The trainer helped Shawn back to the locker room.

“Ryan!” Coach bellowed. “You’re on the first line!” Molly gulped and climbed over the boards to finish out Shawn’s shift. Coach waved her over. “Molly, quick feet, quick hands – keep moving yourself and the puck against these goons. You’ve been doing that all game but dig deep for these last ten minutes. I want you and Sabrina to drive these guys nuts with your quickness.”

Molly nodded. Sabrina rubbed the top of Molly’s helmet in a hair-ruffling gesture.

“We’ve likely only got another minute out here before Coach has us switch up,” Sabrina said to her as they skated to center ice for the face-off. “You can do this, Molly.”

The Warriors killed the remaining time on the clock and regulation time ended with the score still tied. Overtime ended the same way and the teams readied themselves for the shootout. Coach picked his first five shooters and sent them out to center ice. They slapped Stu on his pads with their sticks as encouragement before he skated to his net.

Both goalies were brilliant, stopping three of the first four shots from each team. Stu stoned the fifth Spartans shooter, leaving the door open for Sabrina to win the game if she scored. Again, the rink narrowed to the puck waiting for her at center ice.

Sabrina’s mind sped through her choices of possible shots while she waited for the whistle. She decided to go for broke with a classic move. She prayed her arms would be long enough to pull it off. She charged the net at the sound of the whistle. Twenty feet in front of Framingham’s goalie she pulled the puck to her forehand. Her opponent slid to that side to keep himself between the puck and the goal behind him.

Sabrina snapped the puck to her backhand when the goalie extended his stick toward her. Falling away from the net to her forehand, with her arm outstretched she used the toe of her stick to send the hard rubber disk sliding toward the goal at the opposite side of the net. The goalie’s head snapped around in horror. He watched the puck slide ever so slowly over the goal line and into the net.

The Warriors exploded off the bench and mobbed their captain. Pressed against the boards Sabrina could barely breathe, but she didn’t care. From one-and-seven to ten-and-nine! The home crowd was delirious. Coach Bramhall found his captain once the mob released her.

“Pavel Datsyuk and Peter Forsberg?” he asked her. “You’re an affront to goalies everywhere!”

“I attribute it to poor parenting, Coach.”

“Ha! Wait till I tell your father that! One more thing for me to blame him for. Come on, it’s handshake time.”

“The Prom Committee pulled off a coup this year!” Ruby commented while looking at a flyer outside her homeroom.

“I’ll say,” replied Naomi. “The conference center on the base where units hold their functions? That place is nice.”

“I’m not sure about these requirements, though,” added Desiree. “‘Attendees must agree to provide their name, date of birth, Social Security number, height, weight, hair, and eye color …?’ Not sure I like all that … And this: ‘Foreign nationals wishing to attend must submit copies of their passport no later than one month prior to the event.’”

“Dad tells me those are standard requirements for anyone visiting military installations these days,” Sabrina chimed in. “Unusual for the Provost to ask for it from people under eighteen, though. Maybe it has to do with the sheer number of unknown people that might attend? I’ll bet the chaperones will need to submit this info, too.” She shrugged. “Hey, how many non-Army folks get to say their Prom was held on an Army base?”

The extended group of friends all agreed to attend, at least those who were juniors or seniors. The boys waited patiently for their girlfriends to tell them what color their dresses would be so they could reserve the right color tux/bow tie/cummerbund. That’s to say they forgot all about it until the girls told them to get it in gear and reserve their tuxes. April flew by and suddenly it was time for Prom.

The line of cars waiting to enter Fort Devens for the event that night stretched back from the Verbeck Gate like a glowing snake. The base Provost Marshal had extra MPs on duty to handle traffic at the gate. Sabrina also noted the number of military police patrol cars along the route to the Pershing Conference Center. Pete noticed the same thing.

“Looks like they’re waiting for someone from our school to screw up …” he muttered.

“More like they want to keep us away from the housing areas,” Sabrina replied. “Most of the officers live down that way,” she motioned off to the right, “and there’s a big block of barracks down that way.” She pointed to their left.

“That’s right, you’ve been on-base before. I’ve always wanted to look around this place.”

“Dad can sponsor you if you want him to show you around, whether or not he’s on-duty as the supervisor. You might get stuck chasing an ambulance call or two if he is, though.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” he said with a smile and a squeeze of her hand.

“I know what you wouldn’t mind seeing …” She sighed. “Typical male …”

“Well, yeah …” he replied as his smile changed to a leer.

The Student Activities Council outdid themselves in decorating the Pershing Center’s largest conference room. Instead of either going over-the-top or barely decorating at all, they found the right mix of the two: subtle.

“Hey, guys!” Erica called as she rolled up with Tommy walking next to her. “You two look great!”

“Thanks, Erica! So do you!” Everyone exchanged hugs and handshakes. “Where are we sitting?”

Their table was one in a cluster of six that the new and larger group of friends claimed. Students in other ‘popular’ cliques stared daggers at them, which they ignored. Some football players’ girlfriends were upset with the loss of status once the boys befriended Sabrina. Now they couldn’t care less. They understood they wouldn’t see ninety percent of their class ever again after graduation.

After dinner, the dance floor heated up. The DJ played music people could dance to, not just the music he wanted to hear. Sabrina and her friends bounced around, dancing, singing, and laughing.

“Emily, do you have your phone?” Sabrina heard someone ask. She turned to see Dom Plazeski, one of the lacrosse players talking to her friend. He had his phone pointed at one of their tables. Sabrina looked up to see some of the Plastic People wandering through the area trying to look casual.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Erica asked as she turned her head. She soon whipped her phone out from the purse next to her on the wheelchair’s seat and pointed it at another table. Thirty seconds later she called out “Let’s find the manager!”

Sabrina’s core friends and half the lacrosse team left the dance floor to follow the two. Sabrina walked up in time to hear Erica ask the manager to call the MPs. One heard her request and stepped over from her post by the front door.

“Is there a problem, Miss?” she asked Erica.

“Specialist Garza, I think people are planting something at our tables in hopes of getting us in trouble.”

Erica and Dom cued up videos on their phones and showed them to the soldier. Garza’s eyebrows rose.

“Could you play those again for me, please?” They did. Garza took a step back, turned away, and keyed the radio microphone clipped to her uniform. “Bravo Six Four, Bravo Six Four, Pershing One X-ray.”

“One X-ray?”

“Six Four, start a patrol and the sergeant my way, and is Six Four Actual in the office?”

“Papa One, Papa Six, start to the conference center. Papa One, Papa Six, to the conference center. One X-ray, affirmative, Six Four Actual is in the duty office.”

“Roger, stand by for a landline.” Garza picked up the phone from the desk and called her platoon’s duty office.

“Sir, Specialist Garza. I’ve got a situation brewing up here at the conference center, sir. I’ve asked for the sergeant and a patrol unit, but I need more back up … Well, sir, some students attending this event up here seem to be putting things in other people’s coats, purses, and in their drinks, sir … No, sir, but I have seen the video taken by two of the students that are being targeted … Seems clear enough to me, sir, but I’m sure you’ll need to see the video yourself to make the final determination … Yes, sir, that would be very helpful, sir … Roger, sir, standing by, thank you.” Garza turned back to the students.

“I need you folks to stay right here until my captain gets here with some extra troops.” She turned to the conference center manager next. “Sir, could you get on your radio net and ask your folks to station themselves by any exits, including the fire doors, as casually as they can?”

Three MPs in OCP camouflage uniforms stepped through the front door looking unhappy. Garza walked over and briefed the shortest of the three on the situation. That soldier marched over to Erica and Dom.

“Could I see those videos, please?” The sergeant’s eyes narrowed as she watched, her soft gray irises turning cold and flinty. “Dillon, start getting these people’s names. Garza, Reese, you’re with me.” Sergeant Jacobsen led the two soldiers a dozen paces away. She started throwing knife-hands as she gave the other two orders.

Sabrina turned at the sound of the front door opening again. An armed and squat, stocky Army captain wearing camouflage led a squad of MPs carrying rifles into the building. Jacobsen marched over and saluted.

“Report.”

“Garza’s assessment is accurate, sir. You can’t see what the other students are planting in the video, but it’s clear that’s what they’re doing.”

“Exits?”

“Currently covered by facility waitstaff. I sent Garza and Reese outside to cover the side of the building the fire exits open to.”

“Who’s got the videos?” Jacobsen waved Erica and Dom over to show the videos once again. The captain grunted. “Sergeant, we’re going inside and turning on the lights. Take control of the room without unnecessary violence, but secure those tables, then secure the individuals in those videos. I ordered four more patrols to head this way before I left the office. We have extra help outside if we need it. Everyone clear on the plan?” The other MPs nodded. “Weapons tight, people. Let’s go.”

Startled shrieks filled the room when the lights snapped on. Students froze in their momentary blindness. The MPs swarmed past the dance floor, posted two soldiers to guard the suspect tables from the videos, then surrounded the Plastic People. The music stopped as excited voices rose in protest. A shrill whistle cut through the space.

“That’s enough, people!” Captain Cho bellowed from the DJ’s riser. “I am investigating a report of illegal activity at this location, and you are being detained. Army CID agents are on their way. You will remain where you are and you will remain silent, is that understood?” The cowed crowd said nothing. Cho stepped down and approached the suspects.

“Sergeant, begin searching this group.”

The father of one of the students about to be searched, who was there as a chaperone, stepped toward the Army officer.

“You can’t search them! You need a warrant!”

Cho’s eyes locked onto the man. “No, I don’t. If anyone here is over eighteen, they acknowledged that their person, belongings, or vehicle are all subject to search at any time while on this post. They did so when they signed the form providing us with their information over a month ago. If they are under eighteen, then their parent or guardian acknowledged for them. Also, by voluntarily entering this installation all of you acknowledged the same thing. That is why the big signs by the gates say what they do. Ignorance is no defense.” Cho turned back to Sergeant Jacobsen. “Carry on, sergeant.”

Army CID agents walked in while the MPs searched the students in question. Agents interviewed Erica, Dom, and the three other students who made recordings. Other agents photographed the contraband the MPs discovered in four students’ pockets before snapping the handcuffs on them.

CID turned their focus to the tables where Sabrina’s friends had been sitting. One agent pulled a bag of marijuana from a tuxedo jacket’s inside pocket. Sabrina saw Robert Thomas’ face go white.

“Whose tux is this?” the agent asked the group of students. Eyes turned to Robert.

“It’s mine!” Those eyes turned away from Robert. Eric Hamil had his hand raised. “It’s mine, ma’am!”

Robert started to step forward. His girlfriend put her arm on his to stop him.

“Robert!” she hissed under her breath. “Your appointment!” He hesitated, but then gently removed her hand.

“‘A cadet will not lie, cheat, steal, or tolerate those who do,’” he whispered back while looking at Sabrina. Sabrina’s eyes misted over as her fellow appointee stepped forward.

“Ma’am …?” Robert asked, raising his hand. “Eric’s trying to protect me. That’s my jacket, not his.”

The agent waved him over. She drew the huge senior away from the group and began a quiet conversation with him. At one point Robert looked up at Sabrina, then back. The agent glanced over her shoulder. Sabrina swallowed before also stepping forward. The agent patted Robert on the shoulder and led him back to the group.

“Miss, where’s your purse?” the agent asked Sabrina. Sabrina led the agent to her seat. “I need to look inside.” Sabrina nodded again. She held her breath while the agent searched. Her breath came out as one big <whoosh> when the agent smiled and showed her there was no contraband inside. Sabrina wiped tears of relief away.

“Are you going to be all right, Miss Knox?”

“Sabrina!” She turned at the familiar voice. The seventeen-year-old felt seven again as she threw herself into her father’s arms.

“Daddy!” she sniffled as her father hugged her. “What are you doing here?”

“They asked P-Four to standby with Devens Rescue, and one of my guys called me when he found out why they were here. Are you okay?” Jeff looked up and his face asked the CID agent the same question.

“She’s fine. Miss Knox, while you should probably report this to your academy liaison, I doubt this will cause you any problems.”

“What about Robert?”

“His situation might be a bit stickier, but we have video of someone planting that bag in his jacket so, in the end, he should be fine, too. In any event, we’re done here. You and your date can leave at any time. I’m sorry this ruined your Prom.”

“Dad?”

“You and Pete go do whatever it is you had planned for afterward, Princess.” She hugged him, thanked the agent, and walked over to her date.

“That can’t have been easy …” the agent muttered to Jeff.

“Hell, no. Except for her being an inch taller and the blue eyes, she’s the spitting image of her mother at her age. Pete’s mother is out, so they have an empty house to return to.” He sighed. “I don’t want to know …”