His Name Is... Dougie

Chapter 5*

I threw my suitcase in the back seat of Uncle Peter's truck. I got into the passenger seat, getting ready to leave to go to TD Garden; it's been a while since I've last seen it. Okay, maybe only a couple weeks. However, it's like another home to me. Another home that I don't get to be in until hockey season starts again.

Coach Claude Julien walked over to the truck, with Dougie behind him. Claude tapped on the window and I rolled it down, "Do you have room for one more person?" he questioned.

"You want to come with us?" I joked.

Dougie was laughed silently behind Claude. Claude shook his yet, trying to act serious. Yet, he had a grin that was spread across his face, "No, I can drive remember."

I nodded, "Yes, I don't have a short-term memory." I quickly glanced over at Dougie who had his tongue stuck out at me.

My uncle met up with Claude. "I don't think we have a problem with Dougie catching a ride with us," he told Claude.

Another scenario where I'm with Dougie... How does this happen? Claude nodded and left us, my uncle opened the back door and Dougie placed his suitcase over top of mine and my uncle's suitcases; he also put his hockey gear below the suitcases, on the ground. Dougie climbed into the back seat and buckled up his seatbelt.

Through the whole ride, my uncle tried to make small talk with Dougie. I didn't join in on their conversation. Uncle Peter would ask me questions; I would only give him one word answers in return. I didn't feel like talking... Especially in front of Dougie. I'm not nervous around him... I just... don't want to talk to anyone but him.

We made our way into TD Garden's parking lot at the back of the arena. There were fans along the side of the entrance to the parking lot. Most of them glared at me, mainly because they were girls. They never liked me because I got to hang out with Tyler, Brad, Milan, Patrice, and every other Bruins on a daily basis. I would expect nothing less.

We drove up to my uncle's parking spot and got out of his truck. Dougie retrieved his hockey gear and swung the strap over his shoulder. Dougie and I walked side by side as we walked into the arena. Uncle Peter was in front both of us. Today, I really wanted to see Dougie practice; I've never seen him practice.

I followed my uncle into the back entrance; I walked straight to my change room because the NHL thought it was "inappropriate for a girl to keep her hockey equipment in the men's change room". Whatever.

I tied my skates up, pulled on a sweater, grabbed my gloves and my stick. I made my ways towards the ice, I noticed Brad on the other side of the ice, stretching his legs. I skated towards him and got down on my knees and started to stretch with him. "You know," spoke up Brad. "At first glance, I thought you were a guy. Then, I thought to myself, 'Brad, you amazingly handsome devil, what guy has that nice of an ass?'"

I raised my eyebrow, "What was the point of that?" I questioned.

"To say you have a nice ass," he smiled at me.

I grabbed my stick and poked his side. "Don't talk about my arse."

"Want to settle this dispute with some 'one on one'?" asked Brad as he stood up from the ice.

I got on my knee and straighten myself out, "I'm ready when you are." Brad skated over to the other side of the ice and got a puck.

I skated towards the center, "Don't check... I have no padding on. Plus, I bruise easily." I noted.

"Sissy," he muttered. I slashed him against the shin. "Ow."

"Sissy," I whispered. Brad glared at me.

Brad and I started to play one on one. We both pushed ourselves to the hardest. Brad wasn't complaining, neither was I. We were possibly halfway through the first period; I was leading... by one point. I noticed that the draft picks and some of the players were coming down the tunnel.

Dougie sat down on the bench, next to Tyler. So, he's friends with Tyler... "Brad! Olivia! Get off the ice!" Claude Julien yelled.

"Five more minutes!" Both Brad and I yelled back at him.

"Start the clock." I heard Claude say.

The clock started, Brad and I both had no goals. For four minutes, Brad and I hardly tried. Neither one of us scored, I was sure that Brad was actually trying his hardest. I always give Brad a hard time. He hates when I make fun of him, but I enjoyed making fun of him.

"One minute left!" A Slovak accent yelled out. Zdeno.

I quickly got a hold of the puck from Brad's stick. I raced down the ice, with Brad not far behind. I passed Brad's blue line, when he tripped me. I could still reach the puck, I swatted it with my stick and it went in. "No goal! I tripped her! Penalty!" yelled Brad.

I made my way up from the ground, "You realize if you get your penalty, I'll score anyways," I pointed out.

"Damn it," he muttered.

"That's enough one on one," announced Claude.

"I won!" I yelled, Brad rolled his eyes.

Brad and I made our way over to Claude. Claude explained what we were doing in practice and how we do things at practice. I worked with the defensemen, which meant, I got to work with Dougie! Whenever Tyler wouldn't be practicing on drills, he'd be next to me; begging to switch to be a "coach" for the forwards.

Every time he asked, I turned him down. I didn't want to leave the position that I loved. Even if I connected well with the forwards... I had a special bond. When Tyler would leave, I would look straight at Dougie, who would be staring back at me.

I'm defiantly not changing positions.