Perfect Obsession

Chapter 12 || I Don't Feel Like Being Stranded With You

𝐑 𝐎 𝐒 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐄 ' 𝐒    𝐏 𝐎 𝐕

"You're going the wrong way!"

"I am not!"

"Then why does google maps show you're going the wrong way?"

"Hollywood, I've been this way before. I'm from Boston. I know where I'm going. When we're in LA, then you can direct us."

Roman turns up the radio, and my jaw drops at his audacity. He shoots me a condescending smirk and I huff before turning my head to look outside the passenger seat window.

The flurry of snow falls against the window as it gracefully lands and sticks to the road we are driving on. Covering the surrounding buildings, houses and landmarks, my eyes remain glued to it, as it's not something we see in Los Angeles ever.

The snow began early this morning and hasn't let up, thankfully it's still ok to drive in. Something apparently people from Boston do until their cars won't physically move.

Kind of like how people in LA will still go to get Starbucks even if there is an earthquake happening. Having been on the road for an hour and a half, the disastrous car ride is almost over as we have arrived in the city where the game is taking place.

My eyes flicker to the windscreen and through the snow being wiped away, seeing the coach with the kids on board driving in front of us. Some of the kids at the back of the bus have their hands pressed against the back of the coach window, watching the snow with wonder and amazement.

"I don't know who's more excited about the snow...you or the kids." Roman's voice breaks my peace. His voice is now a lot calmer than it was moments ago.

"Hilarious."

Roman snickers. "This is where your nickname Hollywood suits you."

"Oh, shut it. I've seen snow for the past two years I've been here. You should have seen me the first year after not seeing snow in LA." I look over at him and he raises his eyebrow.

"Like those?" Roman points to the excited kids on the coach in front of us and I shoot him a glare. "Oh, come on. You asked before if we were still going because of the snow."

"Stupid Bostoners," I mutter, tapping away on my phone, but my attention gets drawn to the radio in Roman's truck at its announcement.

"Prepare for a snowstorm coming our way, Boston."

My attention snaps from the radio to Roman, who looks relaxed. Not at all fazed, his fingers tap on the steering wheel and his eyes focused on the road. What is wrong with these people?

"Snowstorm?"

Roman looks away from the road and at me. "I already checked the weather. It will not hit until after we're back."

"Good, I don't feel like being stranded with you."

The next half an hour goes by fast, with Roman remaining unphased about the snowstorm and my attention purely focused on the radio as they talk about. Soon enough we're pulling up to where the away game is and once all the kids are off the bus, we lead them inside with Roman at the front and me at the back to make sure no one gets lost.

As he leads them into the locker room, all the parent's head inside to help with the helmets and protective gear. Roman gives all the kids a small speech before he leads them onto the ice. Roman and I sit on the benches watching as the game starts. He shouts instructions to the kids, and I can't help but chuckle, getting him to look over at me.

"What?"

"You're actually good at this. I've never asked but why hockey and biochem? Little odd." I point out a question I've been curious about for a while.