Fake It Till You Make It || Tom Wilson

Chapter 2 - Hockey is My Life

Wilson's POV
I watch as Kasey starts to make her way out of the locker room and is stopped by Ovi. They talk for a bit and I can hear their conversation from my locker.

"I heard that you are our new athletic trainer," Ovechkin says with a smile. "I'm—"

"Alex Ovechkin. I know who you are. You're my dad's favorite player on the team," she explains with a smile. Ovi chuckles.

"I guess my reputation does precede me then. I didn't catch your name earlier," He says. Kasey laughs.

"Sorry about that. I'm Kasey,"

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Kasey." Ovechkin says as he shakes Kasey's hand. "I trust that the boys and I will be in good hands with you,"

"Awww. Thank you. I'll try to be the best trainer that I can be for you guys," Kasey says as she leaves the locker room.

Ovi walks over to me and smiles.

"Kasey seems very nice, Willy. You should talk with her sometime," he says. I roll my eyes.

"Oh great, not you too." I mutter. Ovechkin frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"Oshie tried to set me up with Kasey during practice," I answer. Ovi laughs.

"As he should. You've been single for way too long, my friend." He says with a smirk. I shrug.

"Maybe I like being single,"

"No. You don't. You just wish that you are still dating that volleyball player," Ovechkin adds. I shake my head.

"Yeah. Maybe I do still think of her sometimes, but she's long gone. I think I'm gonna head out. See you at practice tomorrow," I explain. Ovi nods.

"See you tomorrow, Willy."

I absolutely hate that nickname, but I pretend to not let it bother me. Everyone on the team has some sort of nickname and Willy is mine. I guess I'll have to get used to it some time.

Kasey's POV
I gather my bag and leave the trainer's office. I almost run into Wilson as I'm leaving and he smiles when he sees me.

"Hey, Kasey. Heading out for the night?" He asks. I nod.

"Yes I am. Are you?"

"Yeah. I'm always the first one to get here and the first one to leave," Wilson says. I laugh.

"Ok. Wanna walk out with me?" I ask. Wilson shrugs.

"Sure,"

"So, how long have you been playing hockey?" I ask. I feel as though I should initiate conversation with Wilson. Plus, I'm curious about how long he's been playing. Wilson laughs.

"I've been playing since I was two years old so I've been playing for about twenty four years," He says. My eyes grow wide.

"Really?!"

"Yeah. My parents both love hockey so I was kind of born into it. I love it too, of course. I wouldn't be here if I didn't love as it much as my parents do," Wilson explains. I shrug.

"Makes sense. You're from Canada, right?"

"Yep. Born and raised,"

"Cool. I'm guessing you were more of a Canada hockey team kind of guy then," I say. Wilson nods.

"Yeah. I was more of a Toronto Maple Leafs fan, but I'm a Caps fan now. And so are my parents," he says. I smile.

"Of course. Whichever team you play for, your parents are going to cheer for no matter what because your parents are your biggest supporters."

"That's true. Did you play hockey in high school?" Wilson asks. I laugh and shake my head.

"No. I was more of a softball kind of girl. Don't get me wrong, I love playing hockey. It's just that I'm not very good at it. That's why I'm content to just watch it," I explain. Wilson shrugs.

"That's okay. Even if you're not the best hockey player, you at least get to help us perform better out on the ice. That's a win win in my book,"

"Are you saying that you would be an athletic trainer if you weren't a player?" I ask. Wilson shakes his head.

"Not really. Let me tell you, a big guy like me isn't meant to be doing first aid and physical therapy. I'm meant to play a professional sport like hockey. Or something that requires some muscle," he explains. I smile as I tap my chin, pretending to think.

"I bet you could have been a good linebacker for a football team," I say. Wilson frowns.

"You really think so?"

"I know so. With the way you shove other players out of the way to get to the puck, you could really do some damage as a linebacker. But, with all the fights I've seen you get into, you're better off as a hockey player." I reply. Wilson nods.

"Understandable,"

We stand in front of the elevator and I press the down button. When the elevator opens, we get in and I press the button that will take us below the rink to the parking garage.

I parked my car in the area that the players park because I was told I could. When I was little, the parking area filled with all the player's expensive cars amazed me. I would always wonder if I'd get to see the players getting into their cars. It never happened, but now I get to see the players every day at work.

The elevator dings to indicate that we have arrived at our floor. I am still a bit amazed at the expensive cars lining the small area of the parking garage.

I feel as though my car stands out with it sitting between two white cars. One being a Mercedes Benz and the other being a Cadillac. My vehicle is a blue Jeep Wrangler. Not only is the color different but also how many figures is on their price tags at a car dealership.

"That's a nice Jeep," Wilson says. I smile.

"Thanks. Your Mercedes is nice too," I mutter, nodding to the white Mercedes that is parked next to me.

"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow at practice, Kasey." Wilson says.

"Yeah. See you tomorrow, Wilson."

Wilson's POV
I pull into the parking garage at my apartment complex and park in an empty spot. I open the trunk and pull my hockey bag out of the back. I drag the bag behind me as I walk over to the elevator.

I get in the elevator and push the number button that will take me to my floor. The elevator dings at my floor and the doors open. I walk out of the elevator and turn left to get to my apartment. I pull my keys out of my pocket and unlock the door.

When I walk in and close the door, my Labrador Retriever, Halle, runs up to greet me. I drop my bag and crouch down to be at Halle's level.

The only good thing that came out of Taylor breaking up with me is that I got to keep our dog, Halle. Taylor and I adopted Halle about two years ago and I was lucky enough to keep her here with me.

I rifle through the mail I got today and find something I never expected to get. It's a wedding invitation to Taylor's wedding. Inside the envelope with the invitation is a letter addressed to me. I open it and sit down at the bar to read it.

"Tom, it's been awhile since I talked to you. Trust me, I know that I'm the last person you would ever want to see or talk to, but I want to fix things between us. I hope that we can become good friends again like we once were."

"I think that you coming to my wedding would be the best way to fix our friendship. Please consider attending."

                                                  Sincerely, Taylor

P. S. If you come to the wedding, you're allowed to bring a plus one.

I stare at the letter and wedding invitation, having no desire to go to the wedding of my ex-fiancé. But, at the same time, I feel as though going to her wedding with another girl would sort of annoy her especially if that girl isn't famous.

I start to devise a plan and it's absolutely perfect. All I need is the right girl to play the part of my girlfriend.