Behind Blue Eyes

Chapter Thirty-Nine - We're So Starving

The last chapter before I post the Epilogue... I can't believe it's over.

---

I was shaking, I was so nervous. I was about to surprise Gabe, by showing up at the Stanley Cup Finals in Colorado.

I had just been seated, nowhere special, in an attempt to keep my presence a secret until they won.

Not if, but when they win the cup.

My palms had grown sweaty, and my knees weak. My stomach had butterflies, while my legs shook like mad.

I was sitting next to this heavier set man, who had definitely remembered to stock up on beers; one in each hand.

Considering he was wearing a Rangers jersey, I kind of understood his predicament.

And on the other side of me, were two girls who seemed to be around my age, only dressed in close three sizes too small. One was blonde, and the other had burgundy hair. I couldn't help but listen in on their puckbunny-like conversation.

"Do you see how cute he is?" The blonde shrieked.

"Which one?" The red-head asked, squinting, "They're all kinda adorable, if you ask me."

"The blonde one over there," the blonde cried, pointing directly at Gabe, "Number ninety-two. Gabe the Babe!"

Oh, if only I had a dollar for every time some bimbo said that, I'd be about as rich as Gabe is.

"Wow," the red-head's voice trailed off, "He. Is. Dreamy."

Hearing such gorgeous women talk about Gabe like that, scared me to death. I'm nothing special. I'm nothing compared to them, yet Gabe chose me. Me, Reagan LeBeau. Out of all the rest.

Because we all know, Gabe had no shortage of ladies, waiting to be swept off their feet by that blonde Swede.

As their conversation continued, I never even bothered to tell them he was my boyfriend, seeing as how they'd never believe it. Because girls with beauty like theirs, would never believe he'd fall for a girl like me, anyways.

But, they can dream.

After awhile of listening to them talk about cute guys they'd seen around, and what they're going to do later, I had decided to find something else to entertain myself.

I looked over at the man next to me, who now, had a hotdog in one hand. He was sweating profusely. I watched as beads of sweat dripped down onto his hotdog, every time he'd take a bite.

It made me sick, really.

So, I moved on from that, too. My eyes scanned the arena, as the fans slowly began to file in for pregame warmup.

Behind me, there was a group of five, rowdy twenty-something guys. All they were good for, was screaming and shouting, and causing nothing but trouble.

"Hey, babe," One guy tapped me on the shoulder, "What's shaking?"

He was clearly drunk. Not only could I tell by the way he was slurring his words, but by the way he reeked of alcohol.

I turned around suddenly, "Don't call me 'babe'," I retorted, using the confidence I had somehow managed to muster up, "Get a life, asshole."

With that, I had stood up and began ti make my way out of the arena, just as the guys made their way onto the ice...

---

Gabe's POV

It was time.

It was time for us, the Colorado Avalanche, to battle it out with the New York Rangers, for the coveted title of the Stanley Cup Champs.