Page 4

One week of talking to Tyler passed. Every day, I'd find myself smiling at my phone for hours and just texting him. We called each other almost more than we texted. I was trying to keep my expectations low. If we did stop texting eventually, I couldn't be too upset. He was busy and so was I. It was almost inevitable that we eventually would fall off, right?

Out of interest more than obligation, I tried to watch every game the team had. The way Tyler played completely sucked me in and caught my interest. He was fast, had amazing puck possession, and he wasn't afraid to hit. My heart fluttered every time he slammed someone into the boards, or vice versa. Why did hockey have to be so rough? Why couldn't they avoid hitting? I was especially wary of Tyler hitting with his head. I knew he claimed that his head was better, but I was no stranger to concussions. Through a high school career of soccer, I'd gotten two rough concussions that put me out for months. They hadn't matched up to anything like what Tyler had dealt with or continued to take every game. I had a hard time believing his head was 100% that quickly. There had to be times he felt the lingering effects. At least his playing ability wasn't hindered.

He scored and he scored. He was unstoppable. At least, it looked like that to me. I was naive to the ways of the hockey world. I knew Tyler was good, but I was never sure just how talented he was. Was he better than his teammates Patrick Kane or Jonathan Toews? Was he as good as Sidney Crosby? Even I knew who Crosby was and how he'd shaken the hockey world as of the past decade. It sure seemed like Tyler was doing that.

I wished I hadn't taken that game I saw for granted. I'd kill to watch him play in person again. It was so different now that I knew him better. As well as a week of texting and phone calls allowed. I wouldn't say Tyler was an open book yet, but I had a pretty good idea of what he was like in person. He was confident and strong, sometimes stubborn and a little too arrogant. He was quiet and thoughtful, and he cared about his teammates' well being as fiercely as if they were his blood brothers. He'd do anything for them. It was every quality of a leader that I could think of. He didn't and wouldn't give up. If given the chance, I had no doubts Tyler wouldn't rest until the team had every award in the league.

My thoughts of Tyler ran rampant until Emily snapped me out of my trance.

"Hey egghead, I asked if you want to go out tonight?" I shook my head immediately.

"There's a game."

"You don't have to watch every game. Come on, Luke's having a party and you known UNC kids like to have fun." I shook my head again.

"Nope."

"Ugh, you're annoying." She flopped onto the bed next to me dramatically. "Who's it against anyway?"

"Anaheim. You gotta watch it with me."

"I could. I'd really rather go to Luke's, but I guess I could watch the first period or something." I grinned at her. She grabbed my laptop from my hand, twirling away. "Does it start soon? We should go claim the TV in the lounge. We can hook your laptop up and make popcorn."

"Yeah at eight."

"Perfect." Emily left the room with my laptop tucked under her arm. I followed her slowly, grabbing a few bags of microwave popcorn and some water bottles from our mini fridge. I couldn't complain about Emily agreeing the watch the game. In my opinion, watching Tyler play overrode any party. I didn't care if the Pope was there, Tyler was more interesting.

We sat in the open lounge at the end of the hallway. The cozy space was an ideal hangout space. It was fitted with soft and big couches, a kitchenette, and a TV with every gaming console you could want. Right now, my laptop was connected via a cord, projecting the pre-game announcers on the large screen. Emily was standing by the microwave preparing the popcorn. I let out a sigh and settled into the massive cushions. The couch all but swallowed me whole. It was extremely comfortable.

Emily rejoined me just as the beginning face off was happening. I instinctively leaned forward. The action was obviously funny to my friend.

"Halle you're acting like a hockey mom." I made a face at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're nervous the second he steps onto the ice. He won't get hurt, you can relax. Besides, do you even know what's going on right now." She gestured at the TV with the popcorn bowl. I scowled again.

"I'm learning. And I have a right to be worried. He's still fresh off that concussion, remember?"

"I know I know. I don't blame you. If I had someone playing I'd be worried too." She wistfully looked at the screen. I could read her mind easily.

"Hey, don't go lusting after every single guy on the team. You have Luke, remember."

"Window shopping exists." I shook my head at Emily. My attention immediately returned to the screen when I heard a loud cheer. It was Tyler, flying down the middle of the ice on a breakaway. Emily yelped.

"Short handed! Go Tyler!" I didn't know what that meant, but I held my breath as he faced the Ducks goalie. The heavily padded player stood no chance against skilled number one. Tyler faked like he was going to shoot to the far left. When the goalie lunged to the side, it left the net wide open. Tyler pulled the puck back to his right and buried the black object into the back of the white material. The hometown crowd in attendance cheered thunderously. I let out a sigh and fell back. Emily was grinning.

"It's your boy!" I smiled sheepishly at her words. The announcer drowned anything else out.

"And that's point number sixty eight for the rookie center. He's on a two point per game streak right now. He's getting as much playtime as the first line. There's been talk of Colliton moving him up on to the first rotation more permanently. We've seen it in practice...it's worked here. Let's hope this team can keep the fire up...get the passes up there to Kane and Dewalt."

The camera moved back to the ice, where the face off was back in the center. The goal had come at five minutes into the game. The early lead was obviously a kickstarter. The remainder of the first period, the Hawks controlled the puck the majority of the time. They skated circles around Anaheim. I could tell the energy in the rink was explosive, just based on how much noise was escaping from the TV. It was so loud I had to turn the volume down. As if the sound had drawn the dorm occupants from their rooms, we were joined in the lounge by two of Emily's friends. They emerged, looking slightly bewildered, from the left entrance to the room. They were both Luke's friends as well. I wondered why they weren't at the party.

The taller one sat down next to me, slinging a heavy arm around my shoulder. I shrugged uncomfortably, not liking this turn of events. Emily flirtatiously smiled at the one that sat next to her. The blonde guy next to me reached across my lap and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

"Hockey? Didn't know either of you would like it."

"Yeah...isn't it a bit rough for you two?" The blonde smirked down at me. I wrinkled my nose and leaned forward.

"It's cool. Halle here is talking-" I slammed my foot into her shin. I neglected to turn around and see her reaction, instead focusing on the TV. Emily corrected herself. "Halle is a fan."

"Mmm. Are you? Do have to say I'm into girls who like sports." My cheeks flushed. This wasn't what I needed right now.

"Yeah? Then shut up so I can watch the game." His face dropped, and folded his arms stiffly. The blonde's friend laughed loudly. I let out an internal sigh of relief. Now I just to get them to leave.

I didn't have to wait long. Before the first period had even ended, the guys got up and left us alone. I could tell Emily was tempted to follow them all the way into Raleigh for the party. I reached out and grabbed her hand.

"Get used to it Em. You're gonna be stuck going to or watching hockey games with me for a long time."

&&&

I'd been texting Tyler for two weeks now. Every day, our conversations grew less friendly and more flirty. I was catching more feelings than I ever thought I would. We FaceTimed whenever we could. I watched all his games, rooting for him every time. I'd never felt this way about anyone. I'd never been so invested in the well being and achievements of another person.

When Tyler hit eighty points, I almost cried with joy. He was averaging two points a game, so by the fifth of February, he'd hit the new milestone. I was so proud of him, my new friend. Now, he had a break that was fast approaching.

He'd offered to fly me out to visit him. I was tempted, but missing that many classes over a week would leave me struggling. I had a different time in mind to compensate. The team had three home games in a row over my spring break, the Blues, the Sharks, and the Senators. I intended to fly out and watch his games, without telling him. If we kept talking that long, anyway.

Tonight he had a Winnipeg home game. A few hours ago, he'd said goodbye and headed off to meetings and whatever else the team did to prepare for a game. I had an hour yet to kill, so I decided to go check my mail. Sometimes my siblings and parents sent little tokens of encouragement in the mail. I think they only did it to remind me they still existed. The latest had been a whale drawing from my younger sister, Hannah. Included in the envelope had been a little note from my mother. The usual 'don't be stupid, be safe' reminder that all college kids got at some point.

I think I'm part of the only family who still uses the mail system. Not that I'm complaining. I enjoyed being surprised every once and awhile.

Pulling out my key, I unlocked the mail box. My eyebrows drew together as I studied the contents of the box. A big plastic package sat there, crammed into the small slot. Picking it up, the contents felt like clothing or a blanket. I frowned. I hadn't ordered anything. Had Emily? Studying the label, I found that it read my name. Flipping the bag over, I looked for a return address. When I found it, I grinned. A big red stamp of the Blackhawks logo stared back at me. I knew who'd set this to me.

Back in my room, I carefully cut the bag open. Emily watched with interest as I started to pull out the contents. My hand encountered a slip of paper, which I pulled out first.

Just some gear so you can call yourself a true fan now. Hope you like it :)

— Tyler

The scrawled note made me smile. The first piece of clothing was a red and white beanie. The folded part depicted the logo, while the top part read 'Chicago.' I grinned at the hat.

The next was a red lacer hoodie, also bearing the logo at the front. White and black stripes adored the lower midsection and the elbows.

The next items made me yelp. Two folded jerseys, one white, one red. When I let the red fabric fall open to reveal the back, my heart raced. In bold white letters, 'Dewalt' winked back at me. Underneath, the number one was massive. I let my fingers run over the raised patches on both jerseys, admiring them. Emily let out a chuckle, startling me out of my stupor.

"Jeez, Halle. You'd think you were in love with the clothes, not Tyler." I blushed fiercely.

"I'm not in love with him."

"Look at me again and say that seriously. You two never stop talking."

"We're not even dating yet!"

"No, but you're about to start walking around wearing his last name." Emily jumped down from her bed, poking at my shoulder as she passed. "I'd say that's the biggest foreshadow if I'd ever seen one." I stared at her retreating back, still beet red. Shaking off her words, I started to pull out my phone to text Tyler. When I remembered he wouldn't respond, I deflated.

I was so proud and excited that Tyler played hockey, but the professional level meant he was busy all the time. I couldn't imagine living like he did. How did any of the wives and girlfriends involved with players in the NHL survive? I wasn't even dating Tyler yet and I couldn't stand to not see or text him. How did others who were more committed feel?

I lounged in my desk chair until it was time for the game. Courtesy of Tyler, and much to my annoyance, I now had a subscription to NHL.tv. He'd insisted I let him buy it for me, making excuses the whole time. I didn't really mind. After all, like he'd pointed out on numerous occasions, he was making a lot more money than me. The subscription meant I could watch all his games on my laptop or phone as if I lived in the Chicago area.

I took advantage of the subscription now, pushing play on the live feed. Warmups were still in progress, but I didn't mind watching the reporters talk about tonight's statistics. Every time they mentioned Tyler, my heart jumped in excitement.

Finally, it was time. Tyler wasn't starting in the face off, but I knew he'd be on shortly. The first shift went by quickly. I still had trouble following what was happening, but I understood the general gist of it. I knew when the change was coming by the way the players in the bench area poised on the boards. And I knew when Tyler came out. He always seemed strongest right off a line change. His skating was always effortless, possessing a speed that no one else on the team seemed to have. He wasn't unnecessarily rough, like so many other players. He was strong and powerful when he shot or passed. His attention never wavered. I loved watching him play.

I remember the first night I'd seen him on the ice. I'd heard the fans sitting near me talking and pointing out number one. I'd heard what they'd said about how good he was. I also remembered the cheers when he'd been put through the glass. While everyone else had seemed overjoyed that the hit had resulted in a fight and the broken glass, I'd been worried about his well being. I'd seen the way his head bounced off the seats, and how he lay there unmoving for too long. It was unnerving.

I hoped he never got hurt again. The injury had set back his point earning by a few weeks. I wondered how many points he'd have right now if he hadn't been hurt. I had no doubt he was one of the greats already. I'm not sure he saw how powerful of a player he was, but I certainly did. I knew he didn't think of himself very highly. He didn't know just how much the fans already loved him. He didn't know how much he was feared as an opponent by other teams. I'd read so many articles and tweets about him, all predicting what I knew would come to pass.

Tyler Dewalt was a champion. He was a boy that had come from a small town outside of Boston. He wasn't like Sidney Crosby, with eyes on him since he was seven. No, Tyler had risen from seemingly nowhere, joining an elite team at the age of fourteen and skyrocketing from there. He'd taken the hockey world by storm, and now he was on the track to putting his name on the lists with legends.

And little old me was falling for him. He'd been a part of my life for such a small amount of time, yet he was already such an amazing friend. I could only hope for what might come from the friendship.

After the game had ended, with Chicago winning in an overtime goal, I started to get ready to settle in for the night. Before I turned my phone off, a YouTube notification lit up the top of my screen. I was about to swipe it away when the title caught my attention.

My heart jumped as I tapped on the recommended video. It was a fan edit, brilliantly done and captivating. The video started with his draft selection, and his reaction to being the first pick. After that, a montage of his best goals, narrated over by what I assumed was an announcer from a previous game.

"Tyler is a good player, and I think he realizes that, but he doesn't play into it. He puts his head down, gets dirty, and focuses on the game. He doesn't worry about how he looks or how he'll be perceived. He just plays the game. That's what the Blackhawks really need right now, someone who's not afraid to play and make mistakes. It might take him some time to get up there and settle in with the big boys, but I think we're looking at the next top Crosby, Ovechkin. Maybe even the next Gretzky."

The gravity of the words sent a thrill of adrenaline through me. I'd never heard this take on Tyler. Of course, I thought it myself, but to hear other people agree on it was insane.

I had no doubt Tyler had the heart and soul of a champion. It was in his blood. And I was a witness to his rise to the top.