Carved in Ice

Another Gold Medal

Winter Hart

My head was pounding as the medic, Troy, was stitching up my cheek. My visor dug in deep when I broke my fall with my head against the boards. But we won, so the hit was worth it.

“How are you feeling, Miss Hart?” Troy asked as he placed a bandage over the now stitched skin.

“My head is pounding, and I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I mumbled. I was lying back on the bed in the medical center at the arena. I had a forearm over my eyes to block out the bright lights. I’ve had a concussion before, but this felt worse.

“It’s the concussion. It will get worse before getting better. I wouldn’t fly for a few days to give it some time to heal before getting on a plane.” I uncovered one eye and grumbled.

“So, I have to stay here?” He nodded.

“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s for your safety. Now, let me help you with your gear so I can evaluate the damage done to your body.”

He helped me sit up, and I swung my legs over the edge of the table. I felt dizzy, and the urge to empty my stomach was strong as he helped me out of my jersey. He grumbled when he removed my chest armor. I knew I was covered in bruises. That hit wasn’t the only one I received in the entire game.

“Damn, this sport is nasty, sometimes,” he said as he helped me lay back down.

“Yeah,” I breathed out, covering my eyes again as he checked my ribs and abdomen.

“How’s my star player?” The team manager walked in. I was lying back with a sports bra on, and I still had my hockey pants and shin guards on. I didn’t have time to change after the medal ceremony.

“She has a concussion and a cut under her left eye. She won’t be able to fly for a few days.” Troy informed him.

“Good. At least now your father will stop calling me after I give him some news.” I smiled, knowing how protective my father can be. I’m sure he would have started a fight if he had been there.

“So, no after-party?”

“Sir, she isn’t allowed to drink for at least two weeks. Also, she needs to rest. I’ll check on her throughout the night to ensure she wakes up.” Troy told him.

“But she can still do a few interviews?” I uncovered an eye in time to see Troy roll his eyes at my coach.

“No. Miss Hart needs rest. Get another player to handle the interviews. She shouldn’t have stayed on the bench after that hit.” Troy was firm.

“Troy, I don’t think you understand. She got two goals and two assists. This is her third gold medal in a row. She needs to be out there.” He protested.

“And who will tell her father if something happens to her? She can’t stand the lights here, so she will not be doing any interviews. Issue a statement about her condition and ask another player.” Troy retorted.

“Good job, girl,” the head coach squeezed my shoulder before leaving. Troy was very serious about his job. Being employed by my father couldn’t be easy, and he was super protective of me.

“Thank you,” I grumbled. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight. I love playing hockey, but not so much interviews. I love my fans and will sign anything, but I hate answering questions about myself.

“I mean it, Miss Hart. You need to rest.” I hissed when he pushed down on my left side.

“I think you bruised your ribs. I'll never know how your body can take a beating like this.” He sighed.

I’ve had bruised ribs many times before, and there was nothing to do but rest.

I winced when my best friend and right-winger, Sydney James, entered the room. The door hit the wall, causing my head to pound.

“Hey babe, how are you feeling?” Her voice was loud.

“Shush, her concussion is pretty bad,” Troy warned her.

“I’m sorry, babe,” she whispered. Leaning down, she kissed my forehead. “I brought your tracksuit so you can change, and we can take you back to the hotel to rest."

“Good. Miss Hart, I’ll be staying with you. I need to make sure you wake up every few hours.” Troy said.

“And I’ll help her in the shower.” Sydney volunteered.

“A bath,” I muttered. My body hurts.

“Also, your dad has been blowing up your phone.”

“Answer it next time. Explain I’m fine and resting.” I told her. I don’t want to deal with anyone right now.

Troy helped me sit up again and helped me get out of my hockey gear. I was ready to throw up when I was in my team tracksuit. My head spun, and everything hurt.

“Easy there, Miss Hart. Lean on me.” Troy said as I stumbled.

“There’s a car waiting out back to take us to the hotel,” Sydney said as they led me out of the medical clinic and to the back exit of the arena.

I don’t remember getting in the car or driving to the hotel. Everything was a blur as I kept my eyes shut tight and tried not to focus on the car's movement.

By the time I was in my room, I couldn’t move my limbs. This was worse than any other time before.

“I know you want to sleep, but you need to shower. You stink,” Sydney sniffed me.

“She’s over-smelling. It’s not that bad,” Troy defended, and I chuckled before wincing.

“I think you should nap first, and when I wake you, you can shower,” Troy said as he sat me down on the edge of the bed.

I groaned when a phone rang. I didn’t want to speak to anyone. I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep away the pounding in my head.

“Babe, it’s your dad,” she announced before answering the phone. She put it on speaker.

“Oh, thank god. Little one, are you okay?” He exclaimed, and I winced at the loudness.

“Sir, please keep your voice down.” Troy scolded him.

“Hi, Dad,” I mumbled. I didn’t hear anything after that, with my eyes heavy. I laid my head on a pillow before everything went black.