The Ice Hockey Player

New York

"Oh! there goes Finn Hammond, straight into the glass! He doesn't seem to be getting back up...oh no, there he goes! Staggering to his feet and onto the bench. That's a lot of blood, is it his nose or his eye?"

"Looks like his nose. That's definitely broken."

"Hammond really hasn't been playing well these last few weeks, has he?"

"No, he hasn't. The rumours are he's heartbroken!"

"The heart-breaker becomes the heartbroken! There's irony for you!"

The television flashed off before the other commentator could reply. Sarah stood behind the couch, T.V., remote in hand and spiked heel boot tapping the ground. Katrina didn't look at her, afraid to look at her face. She knew the look, it was her what the hell look, and lately, it had been the only glare she gave Katrina.

"Why did you turn it off?" she asked quietly, arms wrapping around her waist.

"Because you hate ice hockey, remember? And that includes Finn Hammond!" Sarah said.

"I know! And I still do hate ice hockey –"

"Then why are you watching it? Damn it, Katrina, you are starting to get on my last nerve! Forget about him! He's nothing and you shouldn't be thinking about him! He's already winning!" Sarah yelled at her.

"I know! And I'm not falling for him! I care for him, okay, but that's it and nothing else! I know everything he did and said was a lie; I haven't forgotten that."

"Well it seems like you are. And Rana agrees with me," Sarah said. She was still holding the remote hostage in her hand, still glaring at Katrina with her thunder face.

"Like you don't care about him anymore! You were obsessed with him to start with, remember? 'Oh Skye, Finn is in a relationship, whatever will I do?'" Katrina mocked, her voice high pitched and arms flailing around in an airy manner to further insult Sarah.

"That was almost three months ago," Sarah said coldly, not amused by Katrina's mockery. "I moved on and so should you."

Part of her knew she should move on. Part of her didn't want to. She still had some hope that Finn had been telling the truth, that he had started to care for her. She couldn't tell Sarah or Rana that. Not if she wanted to keep her head.

Sarah and Katrina stared each other down. Rana joined them in the living room, her dyed blonde hair matching the colour of Sarah's perfectly and making them seem like sisters. Possibly even twins. She took one look at the remote in Sarah's hand and groaned.

"Oh God, was she watching ice hockey again?" Rana said, one hand pressed to her forehead and rubbing.

"Get over it!" Katrina shrieked.

She needed to get out of this apartment. Away from the two of them. She slammed the door so hard it rattled in its hinges, and then she was on the pavement, rain pouring down and soaking her in seconds.

There apartment was right in the middle of Manhattan and Katrina gladly melted into the throngs of the city, its fast-paced atmosphere and the deafening noise.

Billboards shouted out to buy their products and taxis beeped at each other. Katrina walked along the pavement, being jostled and bustled from everyone else trying to get out of the rain. Umbrella's poked her in the head and others elbowed her out of the way, but she barely noticed.

They had been in New York for almost two months. She'd had a job and was laid off, found another job and got laid off from that one and then given up. Sarah and Rana still had their jobs. Sarah worked at Deane's, a well known magazine in the city, fetching coffee and tea while Rana worked in classy, five star restaurant as a waitress, bringing in some very hefty tips.