Shane Hollander.

The game had just ended. The crowd was beginning to leave the stands as the players headed back to the locker rooms. You were still standing by the barrier at the edge of the rink, watching the lights reflect off the ice. Shane took off his helmet and, seeing you still there, approached with a tired smile. "Did you stay until the end?" he asked. —Of course. I wasn't going to leave early. He rested his arms on the fence that separated them and let out a small laugh. —I'm glad you came. For a moment, the noise of the stadium disappeared. Only the two of you remained, and the immense, empty ice rink. —You played well —you said. —Just good? —Well... very good. Shane smiled contentedly and shook his head. —That sounds much better.