a collection of various oneshots about nhlers written by me, parkerdreams.
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trent frederic.
word count: 7.1k
warning: explicit content
- - -
ALLISON
Trent Frederic.
Only the most annoying neighbor someone could possibly have. His snarky personality, his cocky demeanor, his massive ego...wildly unpleasant, to put it plainly.
I only know him because of Brady—my best friend. He has been since we were kids. I went to school with him for years, so it was only natural that we ended up gravitating toward one another. Not to mention we lived only one street away from each other.
When I started to go over to his house, I met his older brother, Matthew. I ended up becoming closer with him over the years, as well as their younger sister, Taryn.
Trent was friends with Matthew. They were only a year older than me and Brady, but Trent just loved to act like I was so much younger. He was usually at their house whenever I was, so I had the displeasure of seeing him more often than I would've liked to.
He's the only person I know who calls me "Al". And boy, do I hate it. I've told him countless times that I despise it, but he refuses to call me anything else. He knows it pisses me off—that's why he does it.
In 2016, Matthew and Trent got drafted into the NHL. I was upset at the time about Matthew leaving—as I said, we had gotten close—but I felt a sense of relief that Trent would eventually be all the way out in Boston after college. I would barely have to see him anymore.
Then, Brady got drafted in 2018, and it was just me and Taryn.
Every year, the Tkachuks would host this big party and invite a bunch of people for Christmas. It was always fun for us, especially as kids. For a few years after the kids got drafted, they would continue the tradition. It's gotten harder for them, though, and they eventually stopped doing it as a whole.
This year, they did something different. It would just be the kids—Matthew, Brady, Taryn, me, a few other friends...and Trent. I'd be seeing him for the first time in a few years.
Great.
- - -
I walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell, then waited for an answer. Not long after, it swung open, and a familiar face stood before me.
"Allison White," his voice rang from the other side of the doorway. "As I live and breathe."
He looked...different.
His hair was longer; curlier than it used to be. It was gelled up slightly and a loose strand hung in front of his forehead. He was wearing a suit—a light blue blazer with black pants, and a white collared shirt under it. His tie was red with white polka dots, and a brown belt sat at his waist.
