The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over Eric’s room. He yawned and stretched, feeling an unusual tightness in his muscles. As he swung his legs out of bed, he noticed that his feet seemed to hang over the edge a bit more than usual.
"Did I grow overnight?" he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes. He dismissed the thought and headed to the bathroom to get ready for school.
At the breakfast table, his mom looked up from her coffee and raised an eyebrow. "Are you getting taller, Eric?"
Eric shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast. "Maybe. Feels like it."
"Well, make sure you eat enough. You need all the energy you can get for tonight's game," she said, a hint of pride in her voice.
As Eric walked to school, he noticed his jeans felt a bit shorter, and his shoes seemed tighter. His friends, gathered by the lockers, greeted him with the usual banter.
"Hey, Stretch!" called Jason, grinning. "You look like you shot up a couple of inches."
Eric laughed. "I don’t know, man. Maybe."
They spent the morning navigating through classes, with teachers droning on about algebra and history. During lunch, Eric and Jason found their usual spot in the cafeteria.
"You ready for tonight?" Jason asked, taking a big bite of his sandwich.
"Yeah, I think so," Eric replied. "Just trying to stay focused."
"You're going to kill it," Jason said confidently. "Hey, you’re looking taller today. Seriously, what’s your secret?"
"No secret," Eric said, laughing. "Maybe it’s all those veggies my mom’s been making me eat."
After school, Eric headed home to drop off his books and grab a quick snack before the game. As he sat down for dinner, his mom made spaghetti, a pre-game tradition in their house.
"Eat up," she said, piling more pasta onto his plate. "You need all the carbs you can get."
"Thanks, Mom," Eric said, digging in. He was hungry, and the food tasted amazing.
After dinner, he packed his gear and double-checked everything. When he reached for his skates, he hesitated. They looked smaller. Trying them on, he realized they were much tighter than usual.
"Great," he muttered, forcing his feet into them. It was uncomfortable, but he didn’t have time to worry about it.
At the rink, the atmosphere was electric. The stands were filling up with cheering fans, and the smell of popcorn and excitement was in the air. Eric walked into the locker room, greeted by the buzz of his teammates.
"Big night, guys," Coach Davis said, clapping his hands to get their attention. "We’ve worked hard for this. Play smart, play hard, and remember—have fun out there."
As they suited up, Jason nudged Eric. "How are the skates?"
"Tight," Eric admitted. "Feels like my feet grew overnight."
"Must be all those wishes on shooting stars," Jason joked.
Eric smiled, though his mind was racing. He couldn’t let anything distract him from the game. He pulled on his jersey and headed to the tunnel with his team.
The rink lights were blinding as they stepped onto the ice for warm-ups. Eric's legs felt powerful, his stride longer than usual. He caught Jason's eye, and his friend gave him a thumbs-up.
As they lined up for the national anthem, Eric scanned the crowd, spotting his mom in the stands, cheering him on. He took a deep breath, focusing on the ice beneath his skates, the weight of his stick in his hands.
The referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the game. Eric skated to his position, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The noise of the crowd faded into the background, and all he could see was the puck, his teammates, and the opposing players.
This was it. The moment he’d been preparing for. As the puck dropped, Eric's world narrowed to the game in front of him, every movement a step towards his dream.
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