Just

Chapter 11

It was 9:00 when Niall dragged me out of the place. I was blissfully buzzed while he was just as sober as when we walked in the stuffy house. I was sweating, my not-so-curly hair stuck to my shoulders, and I just knew my makeup had run.

                I’m not one of those girls, who stands in the corner, pretending they’re too hot to dance. I like being in the middle of action. Cup in my hand and my boy behind me.

                Niall is the same way, especially when he gets so alcohol pulsing through him. He doesn’t get drunk as often as I do. He claims that he hates American beer, but I know he’s only worried I’m going to do something stupid, which is a very valid reason to stay sober.

                He had his arm draped lazily across my shoulders as we walked to the truck.

                “Why do you even have Greg’s truck?” I asked, my words slurring together only slightly. By the time we get to Tampa, I’ll be sobered up.

                Niall opened the passenger side for me and went to the driver’s side. We got in and we were off.

                “He needed my car,” he vaguely explained. This has happened a few times, Greg needing Niall’s car. It’s usually when he’s going out to dinner with Denise. I don’t know why he can’t take his own truck, but I’m not complaining. I feel like a bad ass in this truck.  

                I did the Heavyn Classic, plugging my phone into the vehicle, and turning up the music. Niall rolled the windows down for me, laughing at times when my singing got a little too loud and a little too bad.

                Tampa is so pretty when it’s lit up. Tampa isn’t a big city, or anything close. But it’s the only city I could imagine myself living in. Not to mention, we have the best damn hockey team to ever exist. If you try to argue with me, I will fucking destroy you.

                I’m only defensive about a few things. When people say horseback riding isn’t a sport, when people feel the need to talk shit about Niall when I’m within earshot, and when people try to talk hockey with me. Don’t stereotype me. I’m a girl but I more about hockey than most guys at Waterview do. I’m the reason Niall is into hockey now. There’s just something exhilarating about this sport.

                Niall and I drove through Tampa, mostly in silence, aside from my loud music. We pulled into our normal parking garage, and together we managed to scrounge up five dollars.

                We are cheap people with expensive taste.

                Neither of us were exactly decked out in our Lightning gear, but who cares? We made it in time for the third period, which should be starting in a few minutes.

                “Who are we even playing?” I asked, walking next to Niall.

                “Chicago Blackhawks,” he answered. I’ve done such a good job turning him into a hockey fan.

                As we got closer to the Tampa Bay Times Forum, I started seeing more guy sitting out around the venue. No doubt, unsuccessful ticket sellers. I’m pretty sure it’s somewhat illegal to buy tickets and then sell them for a larger price, but people do it anyway. And hopefully, they’re desperate enough to give tickets to two teenagers.

                I stopped Niall from walking. “Okay, so we either walk in without tickets or we try to convince someone to give us free tickets. Your choice.”