I don't call home very often in Finland. I say I'm really busy. I am really busy. We play a game almost every day.

I like my jersey. It's red and white, my last name stitched above the number 21. I breathe it in, breathe in the scent of ice on the rink, the lights flashing over the arena, the screaming fans, the cameras that line the boards. I've never played in front of this many people before. I love it. 

I love the way my fingers tingle when I grab my stick, the slicing of the ice underneath my blades. I don't think about anything else. I've never played better. Canada is winning almost every game. I score hat tricks. 

At night in the hotel room, I see my name flooding in on my phone, hockey articles and sport reports. On the TV, they talk about me. I don't like to watch, though. I turn my phone off. I sleep. My roommate is a nice guy named Brandon from Nova Scotia, a defender, but we don't really talk more than we have to. 

Finland is coated in a layer of glistening snow. On the few free days we have, the team goes sightseeing around the city. We always wear our Canada jackets, red and lined with fleece. I don't like that part as much, though. I like it when we're playing. 

The coach is a nice enough guy. He screams a lot on the bench, but every coach does that. My ankle hurts when I play, but I don't care. I don't care. 

I get two texts from Sam. The first one I got the third day of the tournament.

I love the gift so much, thank you

The second one was a couple hours after that.

I'm sorry about what happened, I wasn't really thinking, maybe we could talk?

I don't reply to either. I don't have time to talk. I play hockey and play hockey and play hockey until my mind is numb. I tie up laces and put on my helmet. When someone scores, we celebrate on the ice, the crowd roaring and pounding against the wall. In the locker room, when reporters are asking questions, I smile and nod and pull my Canada baseball hat over my head. 

Some nights, I have a nightmares that I can't remember. I turn on the TV and watch old movies that are playing, the volume down way low so it won't wake up Brandon. I like Finland. A week goes by, and then two.

We're the top team in the playoffs. I know that millions of people are watching, but it doesn't seem real. I don't like to think about it, anyway. I don't like to think about anything at all. I just play hockey. 

Before the gold medal game, Mom calls me and tells me good luck, that I'll do amazing, that everyone at home is cheering for me. I wonder if Sam is over at the house. He probably is. In the locker room, the coach gives a pep talk. He's wearing a red tie. I run my fingers over my stick as they start to tingle.

The game starts. I score three goals in the first two periods. The arena is so loud it hurts my brain, but I kind of tune it out. I chew on my mouthguard and pass the puck and shoot the puck and check players and do everything I'm supposed to do until the buzzer goes off and the game is over and we won. And everyone is screaming in my ear and we're all huddled up together and the lights are flashing, but I'm not as excited as I thought I would be because the tournament is over now.

We get medals. We sing the national anthem. But I feel like I'm not even there, that I'm watching myself from a blurry screen far away. There are after-game interviews and photographs, and that night in the hotel, the team has a big party. Everything smells like sweat and ice, and I like the feel of the gold medal around my neck, the smooth ribbon and the cold, textured metal. 

The day we fly back to Canada, the sky is cold and pale grey, and the airport is airy and busy. I sit on an uncomfortable chair with my back to the window, watching people rush by with suitcases and children. Intercom speakers crackle. I'm wearing my Canada jacket. A few people come up to me and say that they watched me play, that I'm really good. I say thank you.

My phone vibrates, and it's from Veronica.

sam is in the hospital

And that's when the tournament is really over. 

A/N WE'RE GOIN ON A FEELS TRIP PEOPLE!! also, this chapter was written in a really different style than usual but that was very purposeful