Page 3

halle

I shivered in my seat. I was cold. I suppose that's the cost of willingly attending a hockey game. My recent interest with the Chicago Blackhawks was the cause of that. I hoped he was playing tonight. The cause of my fascination. After the young player had all but fallen into my lap, I'd had a growing interest in him. At first, because I was worried about his well being. And then, because I'd found out he was extremely attractive. After that, his impressive hockey skills had thoroughly hooked me. He was the whole package.

My friend and roommate Emily was usually the one to drag me to hockey games. She was an avid Toronto Maple Leafs fan, and had been since childhood. We'd grown up near Toronto, so it was all we'd known. I wasn't into hockey as much as she was. That fact greatly disappointed my family. Both my brothers had played hockey all through their school years, and some kind of game had always been on the TV. I'd refused to give into the hype, choosing to spend my time with friends and working on homework. Moving to North Carolina hadn't suppressed Emily's obsession. Over Thanksgiving break, we had flown home and attended the fatal Toronto versus Chicago game. That was where this had all started.

Now I was hopelessly cold, sitting in the PNC Arena, waiting for a glimpse of a boy I'd never meet. I knew his number, and I knew his name. I hoped that was enough to point him out to me on the ice and screen above.

As if spurring my hopes, the lights dimmed. Warmup time. I ignored the Hurricanes as they darted onto the ice. I had zero interest in the team that was closest to my school. When the Blackhawks took the ice, my interest was immediately peaked. It wasn't the easiest to pick him out under the darkness of the rink, or the speed at which the players were moving. I caught one sight of a lingering "one" but that was it. Maybe when it was lighter in the arena.

I jiggled my knee impatiently. The warmup time seemed to take forever. When it was finally time for the puck to drop, I was anxious. He wasn't on the ice right now. Of course. He was only a rookie. Rookies didn't start, right? I wouldn't know. Emily looked at me strangely as I craned my neck trying to see the bench.

"What's up with you? You're never this interested in a hockey game." I waved her off.

"I'm growing into my roots. Don't discourage me."

"Maybe. Or are you finally realizing how cute hockey players are? You're about six years too late for that." I rolled my eyes.

Emily was partially right. I hadn't been interested in dating in high school. She was. I hadn't found a reason to look at the hockey players. She'd dated her fair share of puck-lovin' boys.

Shifting on the bench caught my attention. A row of players was sitting on the boards, prepared to launch themselves onto the ice. I found him with ease. Unconsciously, I grabbed at Emily's arm. She complained, but I ignored her. I sucked in a breath as the current players on the ice swept towards the bench. He was off.

I was surprised to find I had no problems keeping my eye on him. He was always in the center of the action. He carried the puck up and down the ice, passing, being passed to, looking to score. I wanted to scream. Just shoot!

He was like liquid, moving fluidly up and down the ice. I squeezed my fists together as he received a pass from one of his teammates. He did a move around a Hurricanes player, making a fool of his opponent. Then it was just him and the goalie. The arena filled with tension as the star player approached the goalie with flying ease. He did a move I'd never seen before, faking out the goalie and drawing him all the way to the right. The move left a wide open net. The puck went flying into the corner, ricocheting off the post and into the net. The meager Blackhawks fans in attendance cheered. I was one.

"Who just scored? What number?" Emily was squinting up at the board.

"Tyler Dewalt. Number one." I answered too quickly. She looked at me sharply.

"Aha! I've found the object of your attention!" I scoffed, trying to play my slip-up off.

"Yeah, right. I just read the board. Unlike you." Emily shook her head, not letting the subject go.

"I gotta look this guy up. If he's good enough to convince you into a hockey game, I'm interested." She pulled her phone out, typing Tyler's name in. I blushed. Her eyebrows rose. "Oh shit. He's hot." Further looking uncovered what I had also found. "He was first in the draft. Cool. And he has fifty-seven points, counting that goal just now. What a guy. Just think, we're the same age as him and we're nowhere close to playing professional sports anywhere."

"I know." I sighed, my eyes never leaving the ice. "We were graduating high school and he was getting drafted into the NHL. I can't imagine how much of his life has been centered around hockey."

"He got a girlfriend?" I spluttered, not expecting the question.

"Uh, I don't think so. Not based on his, um, Instagram anyway." I blushed.

"No way! You totally did not go and follow him on Instagram!" The frantic tapping on her screen led to Tyler's Instagram account. Emily shrieked in laughter. "Jeez, Halle. You're one desperate girl. What do you think following him will do? Get him to notice you?"

I shrugged, feeling ridiculous. Emily was right, after all. It wasn't like a professional hockey player would give me a second glance. Especially if I was desperate enough to follow him on Instagram. I waited until Emily wasn't looking to go onto my account and unfollow him.

I watched the rest of the game in a sour silence. At least he scored again. The Blackhawks cinched the win at three to one. Emily and I left our seats, heading for our car outside. Fighting the crowd took forever, and finding the common gray Jetta was even more time consuming. It was well after eleven when we finally found it.

I sat in the car, rubbing my hands together in an attempt to warm my fingers. It was rainy, making the fifty degree weather feel colder than it was. My extremities were particularly affected. At least I had a beanie over my head to protect my hair.

Emily let out a loud curse from beside me. I jumped.

"Jesus, Em. What is it?"

"Car won't start."

"What?"

"I said it won't start." I was confused.

"Why?"

"Like hell if I know! Do I look like a mechanic?" Emily turned the key again, trying to push the engine into starting. When nothing happened, she slapped the dashboard. The sudden movement made me jump again.

"Ok, relax. Can you call somewhere? Or someone?"

"Yeah, let me pull my contact book of car repair shops out real quick." Oh Emily, so sarcastic. I groaned.

"Maybe we can go back inside and ask for someone who knows how to work on cars? Or the nearest shop?" I was expecting Emily to disagree. Surprisingly, she accepted my idea.

We left the car in the quickly deserting parking lot. The front doors to the arena were still letting out a decent stream of people. There had to be someone here who knew what they were doing, right?

Emily and I wandered around, looking for a staff member. When we finally found one, the lady seemed to know exactly what to do for us. She explained in a hurried tone as she lead us down a sketchy cement hallway. I was instantly nervous with the surroundings. Was this allowed? It seemed like a restricted area. Ones where fans wouldn't be welcome.

"The team bus is having troubles as well. We have a mechanic on the premises. I'm sure he'd be willing to help you out, no problem." I was so flustered, I didn't register the 'team bus' part. All I knew was that one moment we were in the safety of the cement hallway, and the next we were in front of the entire Blackhawks team. The woman didn't waver, marching us right past the lounging men. Stopping by a man in a blue mechanic's vest, she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, and she said some hushed words to him while motioning back at us. I was mortified. Emily and I all but clung to each other. The man finally turned to us, smiling tiredly.

"I can help you ladies out when I get this bus going, alright?" We nodded mutely. Emily scrambled for her phone.

"I'm gonna call Luke. He'll be wondering where I am." I nodded, watching Emily retreat to out of hearing distance. I found a wall to lean against, trying to ignore the fact that around thirty professionals hockey players were directly across from me. But I couldn't help a glance up. I meant for the look to last only a second. And it would have, if I hadn't connected gazes with him.

My mouth immediately dried out. My heart slammed against my chest. The intensity of his gaze was intimidating. His face was slack, like he was in shock. As if our eye contact had initiated something. He started to walk over to me. His teammates ceased talking, watching him with confusion. My palms were sweaty as he approached me.

"It's you." His voice was low, deeper than I'd expected. Crystal clear green eyes dug into my own. I gulped.

"Wh-what?"

"You're the girl I fell on at the Toronto game." My eyebrows shot up.

"I...I am? How did you know?" His jaw clenched.

"Because I remember your face. And I rewatched the clips a bunch. You were in most of them. Kinda." He appeared more awkward now, losing the intensity he'd approached me with. "I, uh. I'm Tyler." He stuck out a large hand. Tentatively, I reached out my own. I cursed the glove covering my hand, preventing the sweet contact of skin on skin.

"Halle." His grin was so surprising and so bright that I couldn't help but smile back. Before we could continue our short conversation, a loud voice broke from the rest of the team broke through.

"Oi, Walty. Get yer ass over here. Pretty girls don't like talking to stinky men." I let out a surprisingly loud laugh. Tyler blushed, turning from me. He shot a glare over his shoulder. When he spoke again, his words were rushed.

"Can I...uh. Can I have your number? Or something. Please." He was practically begging me. I almost laughed. Was I dreaming? Was the guy I'd been crushing over for the past three weeks actually asking me for my number? I'd be a fool to turn him down.

"Sure, why not?" He looked so relieved. He pulled his phone out, setting up the new contact page for me. I punched my number and name in, heart racing the whole time. When I was done, I handed his phone back. His smile was beaming. I tried to hide my own grin as he strutted back to his teammates. Boy, would Emily be pissed she had missed all that.

Somehow and some way, fate had just turned in my favor.

&&&

A buzzing noise pulled me from my deep sleep. Groggily, I looked at the time. I almost panicked, thinking I'd overslept my alarms. When I remembered I was still on holiday break, I relaxed. Classes didn't start again until the eighth. I had a few more days of blissful sleep before I had to start waking up at ridiculous times again. Like right now. The sun hadn't even risen yet. I would've flipped over and gone back to sleep if not for the notification on my phone.

I smiled, creating a new contact for him.

I accidentally left him on read. I fell asleep before I could reply. It wasn't until hours later that I woke back up, feeling guilty. Whoops. When I typed back a response, his reply was almost instant.

I grinned, hugging the phone to my chest. I was actually doing this. I was actually talking to Tyler Dewalt. Leading rookie and professional athlete. The notion made me giddy.

I left my phone on the bed, deciding to get dressed. My stomach gurgled hungrily. Emily would be asleep until at least twelve, so I let her be. From her bed, I could just make out the brown poof of curls sticking out from the comforter. I smiled slightly. What would she say when she found out who I was texting? After she'd returned from her phone call, I'd told her nothing about what had happened. She had no idea I'd talked to Tyler and given him my number. Or that we were texting back and forth instantaneously.

Opting for a faded NFL hoodie that belonged to one of my brothers, I disregarded the other clothes in my closet. Switching my fluffy pajama pants for leggings was a harder task. I was reluctant to leave the comfortable clothes behind. Finally, I shoved my fuzzy socks into a pair of worn Birkenstocks.

The rain from the night before had dissipated, much to my pleasure. I enjoyed the rain on occasion, but only in the warmer months. Living in North Carolina was spoiling my adeptness for cold. If winters in January had been rainy and sixty five in Toronto, the occupants would have rioted. I didn't miss the snow and cold. I was someone who preferred the warm summer months and our vacations to the coast over anywhere in Canada. The beaches in North and South Carolina were like nothing I'd ever seen before. I'd immediately fallen in love with the sandy shores, the delicate sea foam, and the wildlife that was most abundant in the mornings. That was why I'd chosen to study marine biology. I couldn't imagine myself doing anything else.

With my phone resting in my pocket, I headed for the food court. The building wasn't far from our dorm, thankfully. I took in the stillness of the campus this early in the morning. A lot of students were still at homes all over the country. Emily had returned early since her family was going on a trip, one she wouldn't be able to go on due to conflicting classes. I could've stayed in Toronto, but I felt guilty leaving my friend alone on campus. Not that she was completely alone. Her current boyfriend, Luke, went to North Carolina State University, only a short drive away in the heart of Raleigh. They'd be together later in the day. I was sure of it.

I found myself a table in the middle of the dining area. I scanned the food court, debating what to get. I settled on Dunkin' Donuts. The kid behind the counter looked exhausted. He was in a few of my classes, so I smiled cheerily at him. He didn't return the favor. So much for being nice.

With my hot chocolate and donut in hand, I returned to my table. I munched on the chocolate dough, happy with how fresh it was. Perks of being an early riser, I suppose. When I'd wiped my hands off on a napkin, I turned my attention to my phone. A new notification lingered on my screen, making me smile.

I closed out of my text messages, switching to Instagram. I scrolled through my feed halfheartedly. Thinking of Tyler, I searched up his account. This time, I was justified in following him, right? We'd exchanged a few words, enough to be acquaintances on social media. I hit the follow button again. A new post at the top of his account caught my eye. It was a sick shot, him doing a celebration while one of his teammates flew at him with arms outstretched. The tagged account told me it was a guy named Duncan Keith. The picture was from a few hours ago. I tentatively liked it, adding to the large number displayed below the picture. I'd already gone through his account the week before, impressed by the years of hockey growth on display. It seemed like he'd been a growing star from a young age. It left me with a lot of questions

After I'd finished breakfast, I took a slow walk around campus. Going home seemed so boring. I wanted to stay on my feet. Normally, at this time, I would be engrossed in a four hour lab class. The grueling work had been tiresome, but without it I felt antsy and out of place. This next semester, I only had to worry about one two hour lab. It was going to be a change from the intensity of the previous class.

I walked by the science buildings, my heart aching to be inside and working on something. That was the downside to coming back early. I sat around uselessly until classes resumed. As I continued on, the rain from the previous night resumed. I cursed the weather, pulling my hood up. My stroll ruined, I turned back for the dorms. I didn't take the time to enjoy the outdoors now, instead putting my head down and trudging through the drizzle.

Like I had predicted, Emily was still fast asleep. I don't think she'd even changed positions. After discarding my wet clothes, I opted to watch some Netflix. Picking up my laptop, I retreated back under the covers. With my wireless headphones secured over my ears, I selected a show I'd started over Christmas break.

Before I knew it, two hour-long episodes had passed. One look across the room told me Emily was still out. I sat up, stretching. My break included retrieving my phone from the desk and picking out an apple from our snack basket. I checked my phone before resuming the show. The notification made my insides warm up and start to buzz. I smiled down at the screen.

I let my phone fall back onto the bed beside me. I enjoyed texting Tyler, something about him was so enticing and interesting. And no, it wasn't just because he was a professional hockey player. That was just a perk.

Emily stirred before I could unpause the show. She groaned and sat up, her mass of curls spiking every which way.

"What the hell is all that damn buzzing? Who are you texting so much at this ungodly hour? Do tell, I'm so anxious to know." I actually laughed, not intimidated by her grumpiness.

"Tyler." Emily pulled at her hair, trying to tame it.

"Tyler who?"

"Tyler Dewalt." The frown on her face was amusing. She scrunched up her face, trying to figure out who I was talking about.

"Tyler Dewalt...Dewalt..." she mumbled to herself. Realization dawned on her a second later. "Tyler Dewalt?! As in, hockey player Tyler Dewalt? Like the guy we saw play last night?" She was looking at me with disbelief and wariness, as if she expected me to start laughing and explain it was a joke.

"Yes, that guy."

"But...how?" She was bewildered.

"He came up to and said 'you're the girl I fell on during the Toronto game!' and then asked me for my number." Emily shook her head.

"I don't believe you. Prove it!"

I typed away at my screen. In a moment, I let out a laugh

I smiled as the selfie popped onto my screen. When I showed Emily the picture, she blanched.

"Well damn. I guess you're not lying." I rolled my eyes.

"Of course I'm not. Why would I?" Emily shrugged. I shook my head, shutting my phone off.

I had a little trouble believing it myself. Tyler was miles and miles above my league. I'd never even been in a relationship before. I had no idea where this was heading.