WAGON WHEEL→ A. MATTHEWS

Auston

16 February
PNC Arena, Raleigh, North Carolina

Game day practices, on our ice or on unfamiliar ice, were always something I looked forward to. It's a way to unwind, forget about all the stresses that personal lives may bring, and focus on the game that was a head of you.

With playoffs coming up, practices did seem to get a little more intense, but no one seemed to notice or care. It was still as calm and as light hearted as ever. I glided across the ice and another puck made contact with my stick. I always made it a point to toss up a puck to some of the fans before going back to the locker room, which, is exactly what I did.

The worst thing about some hockey rinks was the fact to get to your locker room, you had to pass by the home locker room. It was just an awkward situation all together. As I made my way through the tunnel, I noticed a familiar face exciting Carolina's set of locker room, laughing alongside Jeff Skinner.

She looked so different from the night before; her dark wavy locks now tied back into a neat bun, her jeans traded in for a sleek, loose tan business suit with a white button up that made her femininity just as intimidating as it should've been, all topped with light brown tortoise-shelled glasses. I noticed the red and black media pass, dawning the Hurricane's logo, that hung around her neck. I probably wouldn't have recognized her if not for the beaming smile which seemed to light up the entire facility.

I debated on wether or not I should stop her and say something. Just when I had decided it wasn't worth it, her conversation ended and she walked towards me. I panicked for a second. What was I even supposed to say?

"Hey," I choked out before she could walk past, "I've got a question."

The abruptness of the whole situation seemed to almost startle her.

"Oh? What's that?" She asked, her posture fixing itself upwards in attempts to make herself look the slightest bit taller and even more professional. It was obvious she didn't remember me from the previous night.

I leaned on my stick, quickly looking for words to spit out, "Last night, the bar—"

"Oh! You were with that huge group of guys last night." She beamed, her posture again slumping back down to where it was beforehand. Soon after her expression rearranged to more of a confused look than anything, "Wait, you guys were Maple Leafs?"

I laughed, "Surprise?"

"Oh, god, I feel stupid," She shook her head, "Some sports journalist I am. I'm in the beginning of an internship with the Hurricanes— I help run their social media. Snapchat and Twitter, mainly. Their social media guy quit over the break and since I was already circulating in their system, they asked if I'd take over until they got someone full time. I feel so stupid, though, you think I would've recognized at least someone."

Reassuring her, I shook my head, "It was dark in there. Nothing I'd worry about. I wouldn't have recognized anyone in that lighting either."

She stuck her hand out, presumably for me to shake, "Stephanie Krantz, but everyone calls me Stevie."

"Auston." I replied, shaking her hand. She had one of the strongest handshakes I'd ever experienced.

"I gotta get going Auston, but you'll be at the— no, never mind, of course you'll be at the game. I might catch you later on, then. See ya!"

She waved goodbye as she headed back towards the ice and I made my way towards the Leaf's the locker room.

🍁🍁🍁

The afternoon consisted of pregame naps, stretches, two-touch soccer, and harmless chirping between teammates. The locker room was fairly quiet as the guys strapped on all the equipment and mentally prepared for the upcoming night.

"Hold on, what'd you say her name was?" Mitch asked me, pulling his phone down from atop his stall.

"You're not looking her up on Instagram." I replied, shaking my head while sliding my shoulder pads over my head, "At least let me look her up first."

"Who's to say that's what I was doing?" He shot back, returning his phone to the top of the locker.

I scoffed, "Of course it's what you were doing. I know you, Mitch."

"Whatever." He mumbled, knowing I was right.

Once I finished putting all the pads, I slipped the jersey over my head and pulled it over everything before sitting back down onto the locker room bench. I put my skates on one foot at a time and topped everything off with my helmet and finally, my gloves.

Warmup time was drawing near so I started towards the ice and, as if on schedule, Stevie popped from around the corner. Given the lack of attention she was giving to her surroundings, she bumped right into me.

"I'm so—" She paused, "Oh. Auston. Hey."

"Stevie. Hey." I copied. A smile creeped onto my cheeks.

Awkward silence lingered between the two of us as Stevie fiddled around inside her bag. She pulled out a small, torn piece of paper and a pen, leaned against the bricks of a near by wall, quickly scribbling down her name and a number. She had sloppy handwriting in the ways of it could be neat if she let her hands process the thoughts her brain was spurting out.

"Yeah, so, I know you have to go now and all, but call me sometime, yeah?" She spoke fast and nervously, her hands shaking as she shoved the piece of paper over to me. I slid my glove off to take it from her.

I nodded, "Yeah, of course."

She pushed her glasses further back onto her nose, "Good luck out there tonight, Auston."

"Thanks, you too."

We lingered in the walkway before Mitch and Willy storming down between us, yelling and cheering as a way to pump themselves up before warmups. I was swept away by the pair just as Stevie hurried on her own way, pushing her glasses back up onto the bridge of her nose.

I stuffed the sheet of paper inside of my glove, hoping it'd stay put until after warmups.

🍁🍁🍁

As the game started, I glanced through the stands to try and spot Stevie. After no sign of her, I figured she was up in the media booth or somewhere higher up in the stands, out of sight from ice level.

I cleared my head during the anthem, stuffing everything that had happened the past two days to the far back; I had one thing to focus on for the next two hours.

The first period racked up three penalties, but no goals. As always, we regrouped, got it together, and ended up scoring two in the second. I claimed one of the two from the second period. We ended up taking the game 4-0.

As I changed back into my suit following the game, listening to the victory playlist (accompanied by the celebratory yells) fill the locker room, I stuffed the paper, along with my phone, into my pocket. Babs came around eventually, giving a short congratulations before we all began to head back to the bus. We'd stay in Raleigh another night before heading back to Toronto bright and early the next morning.

I kept my hand buried in my pocket, careful not to misplace that damn paper.