"Wait for me!" I screamed and chased after my friends.

They always thought it was funny to run away and leave me behind. I never thought it was very funny, only mean. I would run as fast as I could to catch up with the group who delighted in making me freak out. As soon as I was about to give up, they would stop and wait for me to catch up.

"You guys are mean," I puffed, trying to catch my breath.

"Aw, come on. You know we're just messing with you, Anna," one of them laughed.

"Yeah, but why is it always me?" I demanded.

"Cause you're the youngest. And you're the only girl in a boy's world," another boy teased.

"Whatever. Next time someone younger comes along, you'll stick pick on me," I glared at them.

"Take it easy," Chris, the oldest of my friends and captain of our team, directed," you're just a newbie. Once another guy comes along, they'll let you be."

"You know, it's not my fault none of the girls around here like to play hockey," I said.

"I know," Chris replied.

"They all think it's 'too rough'," I rolled my eyes," it's the best though."

"Well, you do make a pretty good goalie," Charlie complimented.

"And to think, the only reason you guys put me in net was because no one else wanted to. I bet you're glad you did it now that you know I'm really good," I smiled.

"Don't let your head get too big," Chris laughed.

"I'll try not to," I giggled as the guys dropped me off on my front porch.

I slipped into the house, hoping my mom wasn't in the kitchen. If she was she'd see all my hockey gear. She didn't like me playing rough with all the guys. She just didn't understand it. My dad was a hockey player, ever since I was little I remember going to games to watch Daddy play. Watching my father gave me the same passion he had for hockey, too bad I was born a girl. My mom thought a girl only belonged on the ice to figure skate. So every time I went out, I told her I was going to the mall with the girls or something. Then I would sneak out to the lake and play hockey with the guys.

Fortunately, I made it to my bedroom, long before Mom realized I was home. I hid my hockey gear in my closet, bought with the allowances I had saved and the extra money Dad slipped me. Dad was okay with me playing hockey. Since he only had three daughters, he knew it was special for me to be into hockey. There was just no reasoning with my mother about some things, so he told me I could play if I was careful and if Mom ever caught me, I'd have to do all the explaining. It was a risk I was willing to take.

"Anna! Dinner," Mom called out.

"Be there in a minute," I returned.

I quickly fixed my hair so it didn't look messed up. I was supposed to be at the library studying. I wouldn't be able to explain how my hair got mussed studying for a history test. With a last look at myself to make sure I looked like I had been at the library, I ran downstairs to join my family for dinner.

"So, how did your studying go?" Mom inquired.

"Fine," I smiled," I think I'm ready for the test now."

Dad gave me a wink. He knew I hadn't been studying. He was a coach of one of the local high school teams. Hockey was huge in Minnesota, so even after he quit playing, he still was involved in hockey. He had a true passion for the game, as did most Minnesotans. Minnesota was called the "State of Hockey" for a reason. Most boys played hockey from the time they could skate until they graduated from college, some even made it to the big leagues. I knew I never would because I was a girl, but I still loved hockey.

"I think I'm going to take Sarah to the lake to go ice-skating tomorrow after school," Linda, my older sister said.

“Uh oh,” I muttered.

"What?" Linda asked.

"Which lake?” I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

“Rainy Lake. The one where the boys always play hockey,” Linda explained.

I dropped my fork, “Why Rainy Lake?”

“It’s the closest lake to the house, silly,” Linda gave me a look like I was crazy.

The land of 10,000 lakes and Linda has to go to mine! I thought.

“Oh,” I tried not to sound upset. What am I gonna do? I worried.

“Did you want to come?” Linda asked.

“No, I had...um, plans,” I stuttered.

“Suit your self,” Linda finished.

“May I be excused?” I asked.

“Certainly dear,” Mom said.