Practice makes perfect, and when you're fighting to be the best in your sport that is especially true. Ryder and Francesca are no exception. They are dedicated to their sport and refuse to let anything distracted. But when a scheduling conflict forc...
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I barge into Stan's room, clearly spooking him, around midday on Saturday. There is still about 5 hours until puck drop but I am already in my suit ready to head to the arena. "Hey, you picked up Bray's door right?"
"Yeah? Why is something wrong?" Stan has his suit pants on already but is looking between two shirts still undecided on which to wear. His suit screams big money, just like the rest of him but the dude is so humble and quiet you'd never know. His $10,000 watch sits on his wrist the same way my $200 one does and while some of our teammates like to flash their expensive accessories, Stan tries to hide his. Stan's dad is some tech genius and while my parents are comfortable Stan's dad could buy the hockey arena, no actually the entire school, and name it after himself if he got bored.
"No I just need to stop by and drop something off, want to join?"
Stan shrugs and I reach out and flick his arm. "What's wrong man?"
"Pmans new girlfriend, hook up, whatever lives there, right?"
"Maya? I have no idea, why?"
"No reason. I had a class with her fall semester, I don't think she even knew I was on the hockey team." He lets out a bitter laugh, once again looking between his two shirts.
"Well come with me and we will change that. Also pick the left one."
"What does it matter? She's with P now."
"Fuck P dude, steal his girl. Forget bro code, if you like this girl shoot your shot. It is not like P is in it for more than the hook up anyways."
Stan nods hesitantly so I pick up the shirt on the left, shove it at him and force him to put it on while I grab the rest of his stuff. He finishes getting dressed and we both head to my car to drive to Francesca's apartment. I am a little nervous about showing up to give her a hockey sweater, I have never given anyone a sweater or a jersey or a shirt or anything like that before.
When we pull up Stan leads the way since I don't know the apartment number. I knock on the door while he stands behind me fidgeting. "Alex chill," I whisper right before the door opens.
"Ew," Francesca roommate spits as soon as she opens the door. I don't even try to hide the eye roll as we both look at each other in mutual disgust. To think three weeks earlier this is the way me and Francesca looked at each other. "Fran, there is a dog at the front door."
I hear some clattering and then Francesca pops up in her roommates place with a bright smile. "Are you stalking me?"
"Brays door," I remind her and she just nods before looking at Stan behind me. "Stan Beck, Beck this is Stan."
"Is Stan your actual name? Because I have never met a hockey player who gets called their actual name."
"It's Alex," Stan tells her meekly and she gives him a sweet smile in return trying to make him more comfortable. Hell must freeze over instantly because he does relax as someone finally shows him an ounce of kindness.
