The First Goal
Blades & Roses
The First Goal
The buzz of the Piltover Heights High hockey arena is electric. Students fill the bleachers, decked out in blue and gold—school colours proudly displayed on everything from face paint to oversized foam fingers. The air is crisp, tinged with the sharp chill from the ice and the faint smell of popcorn drifting from the concession stand.
Caitlyn shifts uncomfortably on the bench, fiddling with the hem of her perfectly pressed jacket. She hadn’t been entirely convinced when Jayce had invited her to the game, but his insistence—and her inability to say no to a friend—had won out. Now she’s regretting it, feeling decidedly out of place in the midst of a crowd she doesn’t usually mingle with.
Across the ice, the teams are warming up, skating back and forth in quick, practised motions. Violet is easy to spot in her jersey, the number 6 emblazoned on her back. Caitlyn’s gaze lingers on her for a moment longer than she intends, her stomach doing an unfamiliar flip when Vi glances up toward the crowd.
“You look like you’re about to solve a murder,” Jayce teases, nudging her lightly with his elbow.
“What?” Caitlyn snaps out of her thoughts, looking over at him.
“You’re so serious,” he says with a laugh. “Relax. It’s just a hockey game.”
Caitlyn rolls her eyes but doesn’t respond. She shifts again, crossing one leg over the other, trying to look as casual as she can manage. For a moment she catches Maddie’s gaze across the arena, she was part of the marching band. She sends her a soft smile, which elicits a wink in response. Caitlyn shakes her head and laughs at her friend. By the time she looks back, Jayce’s attention is already drifting elsewhere, his face lighting up as Mel approaches. She’s still in her cheerleading uniform, her hair perfectly styled despite having just finished performing.
“Hey, you!” Jayce grins, standing up to greet her with an arm around her waist.
Caitlyn leans back slightly, suddenly feeling like the most unwelcome third wheel in existence. She glances at the ice again, her eyes finding Vi, who’s skating up to her teammates. Powder and Ekko are a few rows down, Powder’s messy blue hair impossible to miss. They’re laughing about something, completely at ease in the chaotic energy of the crowd. Caitlyn has always loved romance like that, how effortlessly in love the younger couple looks.
“Piltover fans!” A younger freshmans voice booms over the speakers, drawing Caitlyn’s attention to the commentary box above the rink. The pair are usually seen around together, if not here in the technology lab. Mylo and Claggor are huddled around a microphone, both wearing matching school scarves. “Welcome to tonight’s match against Zaun High!”
“Let’s hope Zaun brought their tissues,” Claggor adds, his voice dripping with exaggerated confidence.
“Because they’re gonna need ‘em!” Mylo cackles.
Caitlyn shakes her head slightly, unable to help a small smile. The announcers’ antics seem to have captured the crowd’s attention, and the noise level rises as the players take their positions on the ice.
Vi is at the centre, her stance confident and ready. Caitlyn doesn’t know much about hockey, but she can tell by the way Vi moves that she’s in her element.
The game starts fast, the puck darting across the ice as players from both teams fight for control. Caitlyn finds herself leaning forward, her eyes glued to the action despite herself. Every time Vi gets the puck, Caitlyn’s heart speeds up, her breath catching as she watches her weave between opponents with ease.
“She’s good,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
Jayce hears her anyway, by some miracle over the sound of the crowd. “Braemore? Number 6? Yeah, she’s one of the best on the team. She’s brutal, though. Watch this—”
Before Caitlyn can respond, Vi barrels into an opposing player, knocking them off balance and stealing the puck. The crowd erupts into cheers, and Caitlyn feels an odd surge of pride, even though she barely knows her.
As the game progresses, Caitlyn becomes increasingly absorbed in the match. She winces every time Vi takes a hit and feels an unexpected wave of tension when she’s slammed hard into the boards by a Zaun player. But one particular moment makes her stomach drop.
A tall, broad Zaun player rushes Vi, shoving her with enough force that she loses her footing and crashes onto the ice. For a split second, everything seems to freeze. Caitlyn’s fingers dig into the edge of the bench, her breath caught in her throat as Vi stays down longer than she should.
“Come on, get up,” Caitlyn whispers under her breath, her heart hammering.
Jayce glances at her, eyebrows raised. “You okay there? You’re looking a little pale.”
“Fine,” Caitlyn snaps, unable to tear her eyes away from the ice.
Vi finally moves, planting her hands on the ice and pushing herself up with a grimace. She shakes it off, muttering something to herself as she adjusts her helmet and skates back into position.
Caitlyn exhales shakily, her grip on the bench loosening. She tells herself it’s just a game, just a player she barely knows—but the tight knot in her chest doesn’t go away.
“You’re really into this, huh?” Jayce teases, leaning over to nudge her again.
“I’m just watching,” Caitlyn says quickly, trying to sound indifferent.
“Uh-huh.” He smirks. “Sure you are.”
Caitlyn pointedly ignores him, her focus returning to the ice. Vi is back on her feet, skating with renewed determination, and Caitlyn can’t help but feel a sense of relief.
When the final whistle blows, Piltover is declared the winner. The crowd erupts in celebration, the sound deafening as students jump to their feet, cheering and waving their banners. Caitlyn feels a strange mixture of relief and exhilaration, her heart still racing as she watches Vi skate off the ice with her team.
“Well,” Jayce says, turning to her with a grin, “that was fun right? Bet you’re glad I invited you now, Kiramman? Mel and I are gonna head out—grab some food. Are you good to get home?”
Caitlyn blinks, momentarily thrown off. “Oh, uh, yeah. Of course.”
“Cool.” Jayce doesn’t seem to notice her hesitation, already pulling Mel close as they make their way toward the exit.
Caitlyn stays seated for a moment, her eyes drifting back to the rink where Vi is talking with a few teammates. She debates leaving—blending into the dispersing crowd and pretending this was just another uneventful evening. But something keeps her rooted in place, her hands tightening around the strap of her bag. Caitlyn was never really one for huge crowds.
As Vi steps off the ice, her gaze flicks up to the stands, and for a brief second, their eyes meet. Caitlyn’s pulse quickens. She gives a small, tentative wave, feeling a little foolish.
Vi hesitates, then nods in acknowledgment before turning away, down the tunnel to the locker rooms.
The stands are nearly empty now, the noise of the cheering crowd reduced to distant echoes as students trickle out of the arena in clusters. Caitlyn stays seated on the bleachers, her satchel resting on her lap. She opens it, pulling out her journal and a pen, before sliding her headphones on. The soft hum of music drowns out the world, creating a bubble of calm amidst the chaos.
She flips to a blank page, twirling the pen between her fingers before beginning to write. Her handwriting flows across the paper in delicate strokes, thoughts spilling out in a quiet stream.
Game nights are loud. I’ve never understood the appeal of the chaos—the shouting, the bright lights, the dizzying movement. But somehow, tonight, it felt… different. Maybe it was the energy of it all or the way the players moved across the ice, completely in control of every calculated risk. Or maybe it was something else entirely.
She pauses, her pen hovering over the page as she rereads the last sentence. She can’t deny that her focus had been pulled entirely in one direction for most of the game. But that’s a thought she’s not ready to linger on.
The sound of skates slicing across the ice pulls her attention, even over her music. Caitlyn looks up, startled to see Vi back on the rink. Her jacket and helmet are gone, replaced by a worn sweatshirt and a determined expression. She moves with precision, sending puck after puck into the net with a force that echoes around the empty arena. Each shot seems harder than the last, her frustration palpable even from Caitlyn’s spot in the stands.
Caitlyn hesitates, closing her journal and tucking it away. She pulls out her earphones and watches Vi for a moment, unsure if she should leave or stay. She didn’t want to intrude on what seems to be a very personal moment. But the force of another shot clanging against the goal makes her decision for her. She rises and climbs down the bleachers, her steps cautious but deliberate, until she’s close enough to call out.
“Rough game?”
Vi freezes mid-motion, the next puck resting on the blade of her stick. Her head snaps up, her brows knitting together as her eyes lock onto Caitlyn.
“What the hell—” Vi exhales sharply, visibly startled. “Didn’t realise anyone was still here.”
Caitlyn leans against the barrier, offering a small smile. “The crowd was a bit much. I thought I’d wait for it to clear.” She tilts her head, her curiosity piqued. “What about you? Why are you still out here?”
Vi shrugs, looking back at the net. “Just… blowing off steam.” She flicks the puck toward the goal, watching it sail neatly into the corner of the net.
Caitlyn watches her for a moment, her gaze softening. “I thought we won the match?” But when it doesn’t elicit a response, she tries again. You’re good at this.”
“Yeah, well, good doesn’t win championships,” Vi mutters, skating back to collect more pucks.
Caitlyn hesitates, then asks, “Does it always have to be about winning?”
Vi stops, her shoulders stiffening. She glances back at Caitlyn, her expression unreadable. “Kind of the point of the game, isn’t it?”
Caitlyn doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she folds her arms, her eyes scanning the ice. “I’ve never been able to ice skate,” she admits after a pause, her tone light but self-deprecating. “I don’t have the coordination for it.”
Vi raises an eyebrow, her frustration momentarily forgotten. “Seriously?”
Caitlyn nods. “I’d probably spend more time on the ice than actually moving across it.”
Vi huffs a quiet laugh, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. “That’s tragic, Cupcake.”
Caitlyn blinks. “Cupcake?”
Vi smirks, the nickname rolling off her tongue with ease. “It just fits.” She skates toward the edge of the rink, stopping in front of Caitlyn. “You trust me?”
The question catches Caitlyn off guard. “I—what?”
Vi doesn’t wait for an answer. She darts across the ice to where her gym bag is slumped against the wall. After rummaging through it for a moment, she returns with a pair of skates slung over her shoulder.
“Here,” Vi says, holding them out.
Caitlyn looks at them, her scepticism evident. “You want me to—”
“Skate,” Vi finishes for her, stepping off the ice. “I’ll show you. Come on.”
“They probably won’t even fit me I…”
“They’re old ones. Smaller than mine. I’ve got spare padding if you need.”
“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Caitlyn protests, but Vi is already crouching in front of her, unlacing the skates.
“You said you’ve never been able to do it, right? First time for everything.” Vi glances up at her, a challenge glinting in her eyes.
Caitlyn sighs, reluctantly sitting on the edge of the barrier and slipping off her shoes. Vi helps her into the skates, tightening the laces with practiced efficiency. Caitlyn watches her, noticing how gentle her movements are despite the rough edges she projects.
“There,” Vi says, standing and offering her hand. “Ready?”
“Not remotely,” Caitlyn mutters, but she takes Vi’s hand anyway, letting her pull her to her feet.
Vi holds both of Caitlyn’s hands firmly as she guides her onto the ice. Caitlyn’s legs wobble immediately, and she grips Vi’s hands tightly, her balance precarious.
“Relax,” Vi says, her tone surprisingly soft. “I’ve got you.”
Easier said than done , Caitlyn thinks, but she forces herself to take a deep breath. Vi starts moving slowly, pulling Caitlyn along with her.
“See? Not so bad,” Vi says, a small grin tugging at her lips.
Caitlyn glances down at her feet, her brows knitting together in concentration. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to break something.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Vi’s confidence is steadying, and Caitlyn finds herself trusting her, despite her initial reservations.
They glide—or rather, Vi glides while Caitlyn stumbles—around the rink, the empty arena eerily quiet except for the sound of their skates on the ice.
Vi holds onto Caitlyn’s hands, guiding her carefully while she focuses intently on staying upright. Her brow furrows in concentration, her legs wobbling every few steps, but Vi’s steady grip keeps her grounded.
“You’re doing better than I expected, Kiramman” Vi teases, her grin crooked but encouraging.
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Caitlyn mutters, glaring at her feet as though they’re the enemy.
“It is. Kind of,” Vi replies. “You’ve only almost fallen… what? Four times?”
Caitlyn averts her eyes just for a second to glare at her, but there’s no real malice in it. “Five,” she corrects dryly.
Vi laughs, the sound echoing warmly in the empty arena. “See? Progress.” She adjusts her grip on Caitlyn’s hands. “Alright, let’s make this less terrifying. Distract yourself. Tell me something. Anything.”
Caitlyn glances at her, hesitant. “Like what?”
“Anything. What’s your favourite book? Or movie?”
Caitlyn blinks, her balance wobbling slightly as she considers the question. “Erm… Pride and Prejudice , I suppose. For books. And movies? Maybe Marley & Me .”
Vi smirks. “Of course you’d be the type to love classical romance and dying animals.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Caitlyn asks, mock indignation colouring her tone.
“Nothing bad,” Vi says, steering them gently around a corner of the rink. “Just… makes sense for you. You seem like the kind of person who’d sit in a café, sipping tea, and writing in some fancy leather journal about your thoughts on life.”
Caitlyn flushes slightly. She had been journaling before Vi showed up, but she doesn’t admit it. “And what about you? Favourite movie?”
Vi shrugs. “Anything with explosions, honestly.”
Caitlyn huffs a quiet laugh. “Of course it is.”
They fall into an easy rhythm, Caitlyn slowly finding her balance as they circle the rink. Vi’s hands start to loosen their grip, giving Caitlyn more freedom to move on her own.
“Alright,” Vi says after a while, slowing to a stop. “You’re ready.”
“For what?” Caitlyn asks, instantly suspicious.
“To skate on your own.”
“What? No, absolutely not,” Caitlyn protests, panic flashing across her face.
“You’ve got this,” Vi insists, stepping back and letting go of Caitlyn’s hands.
Caitlyn freezes in place, her arms flailing slightly as she tries to maintain her balance. “Violet, don’t you dare—”
But Vi is already skating away, grinning like a cat that’s just caught a mouse. She circles Caitlyn, her movements effortless and fluid, while Caitlyn stands frozen in the centre of the rink.
“You’re evil,” Caitlyn mutters through gritted teeth.
“Come on, Cupcake. You’ve got it!” Vi calls, her voice teasing but encouraging.
Caitlyn takes a hesitant step forward, then another, wobbling precariously. Vi continues circling her like a shark, her grin growing wider.
But Caitlyn’s balance falters. Her arms pinwheel as she tries to steady herself, but gravity wins. Just as she’s about to hit the ice, Vi darts forward, grabbing her by the arms.
The momentum pulls them both down, Vi hitting the ice first with a muffled thud , and Caitlyn landing on top of her.
“Shit,” Vi groans, her breath knocked out of her as her back hits the ice.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Caitlyn scrambles to get off her, her cheeks burning. “Are you alright?”
Vi laughs breathlessly, her hands resting on Caitlyn’s arms to steady her. “I’m used to being knocked down. You’re all good.” She pauses, looking Caitlyn over as though checking for injuries. “Couldn’t deal with it if you turned up tomorrow with a busted wrist because of me, though. The rumours would ruin my reputation.”
Caitlyn sits back on her knees, increasing the distance between them, still flustered. “I told you this was a bad idea.”
Vi grins, sitting up. “And yet, you’re not the one who hit the ice first.”
Caitlyn shakes her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips.
“Alright,” Vi says, getting to her feet and offering Caitlyn a hand. “Let’s get you off this death trap before you do any actual damage.”
Vi helps Caitlyn to the edge of the rink, steadying her until they’re safely back on solid ground. She takes off her own skates, tossing them into her bag. They walk out of the gym together, their footsteps echoing in the quiet halls.
--
As they step outside, Caitlyn spots Maddie, who waves in her direction, gesturing for her to join them.
“You need a lift?” She calls.
Caitlyn hesitates, glancing at Vi. “No, I think I’ll walk,” she says finally.
Maddie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press. “Alright. See you tomorrow!”
Caitlyn waves back, then falls into step beside Vi.
“You don’t have your car?” Caitlyn asks after a moment.
“Nah, game days are a pain for parking. Vander drops us off,” Vi explains.
They walk in companionable silence for a while, the cool night air wrapping around them. Eventually, Caitlyn breaks the quiet. “Vander, you said earlier. Is he your…?”
“Dad?” Vi finishes for her. She shrugs. “Not biologically. But he’s been more of a dad than anyone else ever was. He took us in after… well, after things went to shit.”
“So,” Caitlyn starts again, breaking the silence. She doesn’t want to pry but there’s something exciting about getting to know Violet. “He adopted you?”
Vi glances at her, hesitating before nodding. “Yeah. Took a while to make it official, but he’s been looking after us since we were kids. He didn’t have to, you know. But he did anyway.”
Caitlyn tilts her head, curiosity blooming. “How old were you when he…?”
Vi shrugs, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets again, readjusting the gym bag over her shoulder. “Powder was, like, six. I was eight. Felt older, though.”
Caitlyn frowns, the weight of that number sitting heavily between them. “That’s… young. To go through something like that, I mean.”
“Yeah, well,” Vi sighs, her tone casual but with an edge of something unspoken. “Life’s not exactly fair, is it?” Cait opens her mouth to respond, but Vi glances at her, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “You don’t have to apologise or anything. It’s not like you made it happen.”
“No, I know,” Caitlyn said quickly, her cheeks colouring slightly. “I just… I appreciate you telling me.” She paused, her voice softening. “I know it’s not easy.”
Vi shrugged again, though the gesture seemed more to deflect than dismiss. “Vander made it easier. He’s the closest thing to a real dad I’ve ever had. And he’s damn good at it.”
Caitlyn smiled faintly. “He sounds wonderful.”
“He is.” Vi’s voice carried a quiet certainty that made Caitlyn glance at her again, seeing the subtle fondness in her expression. They walked in silence for a few moments, the sound of their footsteps on the pavement filling the quiet. Caitlyn hesitated, her fingers brushing the strap of her bag.
“What about you? Your parents?”
Caitlyn hesitates. “My mum’s always busy with work. I don’t see her much. She’s important in what she does, I know that. But sometimes… I wish she was just there more.”
“I can’t relate,”
“My dad, though,” Caitlyn continues, her voice softening. “He’s wonderful. Kind, gentle. He’s always been there, but… he’s unsure of himself, I think. Like he doesn’t quite know what to do with me.”
Vi glances at her, her expression thoughtful. “Sounds like he’s trying, though. That counts for something”
“Yeah,” Caitlyn agrees quietly.
Eventually, Caitlyn blinks, realising the familiar shape of her house coming into view. She stops, glancing at Vi with mild surprise. “You… walked me home?”
Vi looks up, as if noticing it for the first time herself. “Guess I did.”
Caitlyn smiles, a soft laugh escaping her. “Thank you. For tonight. For… everything, really.”
Vi shrugged, though there was a small smile playing on her lips. “Wasn’t so bad. Nice to feel different for a bit, huh?”
Caitlyn nodded, her gaze lingering on Vi. “Yeah. It was.”
Vi took a step back, “See you around maybe Cupcake?”
Caitlyn smiled again, a warmth blooming in her chest. “Maybe, and stop calling me that.”
Vi turns with a smirk on her face and walks away, her figure disappearing into the night. Caitlyn stands on her doorstep for a moment, the faint echo of their conversation still lingering in the air. When she finally steps inside, she can’t help but feel like something has shifted.
Caitlyn steps through the front door, the familiar quietness of the house settling over her. The evening air had cooled as she walked, and the weight of the day seemed to follow her inside. She kicks off her shoes by the door, absently rubbing at her neck. The house is still and peaceful, and she exhales a quiet breath, ready for the evening to fade into something calmer.
From the kitchen, her mother’s voice floats into the hallway, pulling Caitlyn’s attention.
“You’re home late,” Cassandra calls, her tone neutral but tinged with a trace of anger. She appears in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She studies Caitlyn for a moment, before asking, “Where did you go? I texted you about dinner.”
Caitlyn’s hand freezes on the doorframe as she listens. Her heart skips for a moment. She hadn’t even thought to check her phone. Her fingers quickly pull it from her pocket, only to find several missed messages from her mother, asking where she was and why she hadn’t responded.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear it go off,” Caitlyn mutters as she slips her phone into her pocket. “I was just walking, with a friend," Caitlyn replies her voice quiet, as she doesn’t meet her mother’s gaze. She feels the weight of the conversation settling, something unspoken hanging in the air, not now.
Cassandra looks Caitlyn up and down, as if weighing her words, before speaking again, her tone harder this time.
“Out with a friend? You know I expect you to be home at a reasonable hour.” Cassandra crosses her arms, her gaze never leaving Caitlyn, she quirks an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with the answer.. “And how is Maddie these days? We haven’t seen her around in a while."
Caitlyn feels a shift in her chest, a pang that comes with the familiar mention of Maddie. She lets the silence stretch for a moment before replying. “Maddie’s fine,” she says, the words coming out automatically. She knows her mother rarely approves of her social life, especially when it’s not with the people she deems appropriate.
“Oh, I see.” Cassandra doesn’t pry further, though there’s something in her expression that says she’s not entirely convinced. “And how are your studies going?” she asks, her voice still stern.
Caitlyn nods, still feeling the heavy pressure of her mother’s gaze. Caitlyn stiffens at the question. She knows the drill. Her mother always made sure she stayed on top of her academics, but it always felt like there was no room for anything else. No room for mistakes. No room for anything that didn’t fit perfectly into her mold of perfection.
“They’re fine, Mom,” Caitlyn says, though she feels the weight of the lie on her tongue.
She follows her into the dining room, where Tobias is already sitting, poking at his plate. The three of them settle into the meal in quiet, muted silence. Tobias tries to break the tension with a lighthearted question, asking how Caitlyn got home.
“I walked with a friend,” Caitlyn repeats, not offering any further detail. She feels the conversation slip away from her as her mother’s eyes linger on her for just a second longer than necessary. She doesn’t delve anymore, pushing food around her plate, trying to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes. She can feel her mother’s scrutiny pressing down on her, and the dinner feels more like an interrogation than a meal.
The silence stretches out between them, broken only by the clink of silverware, and it seems to last forever. But dinner passes, and Caitlyn excuses herself, heading straight to her room. She plops down in front of her computer and opens Facebook. Her mind races for a moment, before she types in Violet’s name, adding her as a friend. She hesitates, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
After a few moments, she hits the “Add Friend” button. Her heart skips slightly as she watches the request go through, but then, uncertainty creeps in. What if she doesn’t respond? What if Violet’s busy or doesn’t want to be friends with her?
Still, Caitlyn tells herself it’s fine. She shifts in her seat, waiting to see if the request gets accepted. Time ticks on, and Caitlyn absentmindedly scrolls through her feed, but she’s more focused on the little notification bubble in the corner of her screen.
Eventually, she sighs, getting up to take a shower. The hot water does little to ease the nerves in her chest, but at least it’s a distraction, a way to let her mind wander. When she finishes, she steps out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel. She grabs her phone from the dresser, checking for any updates. No new notifications. She leaves it on her bed and heads back to her desk, feeling a twinge of disappointment settle low in her stomach, though she doesn’t quite understand why.
Caitlyn sits at her desk, turning off her computer as the night deepens. She stares at the screen for a moment longer, the absence of a response gnaws at her, but she doesn’t dwell on it too long. She doesn't want to be someone who waits around for a reply.
With a small sigh, Caitlyn climbs into bed, the words still swirling in her head. She writes in her journal, letting the feelings of the day spill out onto the page. She writes about the freedom she felt today, the feeling of something new beginning, even if she isn’t sure what it is yet.
Eventually, she shuts the journal, turning off the light and settling into bed. Her mind lingers on the unspoken words, the unanswered message. But tomorrow is another day, she tells herself, and maybe then things will feel clearer.