Practice makes perfect, and when you're fighting to be the best in your sport that is especially true. Ryder and Francesca are no exception. They are dedicated to their sport and refuse to let anything distracted. But when a scheduling conflict forc...
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"Look who finally learned how to dress for a hockey game," I yell the second I walk out of the locker room. People rush toward me, mostly student journalists and people still hyped from the game but I dodge them all and head right for Francesca. I used to love the attention from everyone when I walked out of the locker room but now I would rather just hang with Francesca and hear what she has to say about my game.
We are playing Michigan State this weekend so today we played at home while last night we played in Detroit. I knew Francesca wasn't going to the game but I was more than pleasantly surprised when the game was over to see a couple of texts from her talking about the game. My favorite was when I got sent to the box and she sent a picture of me pouting and said I look like a toddler in timeout. Fridays are her quiz grading day so I felt honored she took time out of grading to watch the game on her phone.
"You literally brought me your hand-me-downs Thursday! I got the hint." Today she is wearing an old oversized jersey I had laying around. Most of the guys' parents usually frame their old jerseys or keep them but mine just sit in a pile in my bedroom. Since I needed to clean up and make space for the rats new home I decided to donate some stuff to her so she could stop showing up and embarrassing me. It is rough seeing pictures on twitter of me and her talking and she is wearing not a single shred of hockey apparel to a hockey game.
"Finally. To the pet store?"
"Don't you need to talk to your fans? Give them that annoying smirk or wink you do."
"I do neither of those things!"
"Oh my god you fucking liar, yes you do, all the time."
"Do not," I grumble. "Anyways, are we going or not? I am pretty sure they are going to start rioting if I don't get them a bigger cage soon."
"Have you been exercising them," she scolds me as we both make our way to the door. I stop for a few pictures but continue to talk to Francesca while I do.
"Yes but I am not exactly home all that much, remember. Why don't you come over and play with them since you're so worried about me over feeding them."
"I will," she counters stubbornly. I turn away from her to snap a few more pictures and give my usual we played hard and it paid off bullshit to the same student reporters I told the same shit to last game. When I turn back around she is talking to a little kid who keeps getting edged away from me by students and reporters.
"Hey," I greet the little boy who gets shy and looks at Francesca for help.
"Ryder, this is Ben, he was wondering if you'd take a picture with him."
"Of course Ben," I tell the boy whose mom quickly steps in to snap a few pictures. I take my hat off my head and grab a sharpie from whatever hand is shoving it toward me. Signing the hat I hand it to the little boy whose eyes are huge now.
