How Hailey Met Cullen

Installment I

   "Go talk to him," Hailey hissed. "You'll never get anywhere just sitting here staring at him."

   "But...what will he do?" Alexa whimpered.

   "You'll never know until you try it," Hailey told her, giving her a little nudge in the direction of the food stand, where Alexa's long-time heartthrob was handing the cashier a five-dollar bill. "Maybe you'll totally hit it off."

   Alexa bit her lip. "But what about you? I don't want to leave you here all alone..."

   Hailey rolled her eyes and nudged her again, a little harder this time. "Go on! I'll be fine."

   Alexa gave her a nervous smile and headed off to try her luck. Hailey turned back to the hockey game raging below her. This was the biggest game of the season. Winona's varsity team was struggling to hold on to their two to one lead over their age-old enemies from Rochester, but the Rochester boys, with only two minutes left in the third period, were starting to get vicious. The refs had broken up three fights already, and one of Winona's forwards was sitting out with a heavily bleeding nose.

   Hailey loved the game. She loved the intensity and the excitement. She loved the glory and the elation of the victory. But most of all, she loved the boys. She loved the smooth grace with which they sped across the ice. She loved the way they loved the fight. She loved the looks on their faces when they won a game. She and Alexa had been going to all the home games since freshman year three years ago; they'd never missed a single one.

   On the east wall, the clock ticked away--1:22, 1:21, 1:20, 1:19... Rochester in possession. Number sixteen raced down the ice, dribbling the puck with an admirable expertise. Winona's star forward was right behind him, trying desperately to keep up. Wyatt, the goalie, spread himself out across the net and pounded his stick on the ice a few times, psyching himself up for the save.

   1:18, 1:17, 1:16... Number sixteen was at the net. He knocked the puck to a teammate coming aroud the goal just before Winona's number seven reached in to grab it. Number seven foolishly followed it, and sixteen's teammate passed it right back. With a well-aimed shot, sixteen sent the little black disk sailing past Wyatt's shoulder. Hailey almost missed Wyatt's glove snatching it out of the air before the whistle was blown and the players skated lazily back to the face-off circle to restart play. Yet another close call.

   Number sixteen grabbed the puck again as soon as it hit the ice. He skated a wide arc arond the net, looking for an opening in Winona's defenses. 1:00, 0:59, 0:58... The puck flew across the ice and was stopped by a Rochester stick, which quickly snapped it back into the swarm around the goal.

   Hailey could see Alexa through the windows into the lobby on the edge of the rink, standing awkwardly at the edge of the food counter, watching as her quarry sauntered over to a table full of guys, nacho chips in hand. Hailey sighed. It wouldn't be long before Alexa came squealing back, whining and complaining about scary buff men.

   0:30, 0:29, 0:28, 0:27... Winona had managed to extricate the puck from the mess by the goal, and number seven was rocketing down the rink with it cradled in the crook of his stick. Though seven was skating faster than Hailey had ever seen him skate, Rochester's number sixteen was a bullet. Hailey could see the determination hovering like an aura about the opponent as he passed number seven and turned, ice dust erupting from beneath his skates, to cut him off. She watched him reach in with a nimble stick to snatch the puck and take off, racing against the timer on the wall: 0:09, 0:08, 0:07, 0:06...

   He pushed through to the net, somehow managing to keep hold of his charge as he approached the goal. 0:02, 0:01... He shot, an incredible shot worthy of the greatest NHL star of all time. The puck skimmed the ice, speeding directly for the tiny opening between Wyatt's knees.

   But the buzzer beat it to the chase. It covered the last foot and slid effortlessly between Wyatt's goalie pads, ricocheting off the left one and into the net, but it was a second too late. The game was over; Winona had won. Hailey leapt to her feet and cheered with the rest of the fans, but she couldn't help watching as number sixteen fell to his knees by the goal, his head in his hands, the forgotten puck sliding to a gentle stop at his side. Soon, though, a mob of elated hockey players in orange and black descended upon the ice, blocking Rochester's lone warrior from view, and the euphoria of the victory engulfed her.

   The crowd around her began to move out of the stands, toward the lobby, and Hailey realized that Alexa had not yet returned. She headed off in search of the missing lovelorn lady.

   Near the lobby's double doors into the rink, Hailey spotted her. She was seated in between two guys at the very table Hailey had been sure she'd be too scared to approach. Next to her was the gorgeous Jake Timm, on whom she had been crushing madly since freshman year. She had never talked to him before, but here the two of them were laughing and chatting as though they'd known each other for forever. Hailey decided to leave them along awhile and go catch some dinner at the food stand.

   WIth a couple slices of hot pizza and a pack of Skittles clutched in her hands, Hailey settled down on a wooden bench to watch the Zamboni do its magic through the broad windows and wait for the hometown heroes to get done in the locker rooms. She knew she couldn't leave this game without giving the whole team congratulatory hugs, and she wanted to give Alexa more time to win Jake's heart.

   The locker room door swung open just as Hailey was licking the last of the pizza sauce from her fingers. A tangle of over-excited Winona victors came dancing out into the lobby, and they were quickly overcome by a giant swarm of adoring fans. Hailey tossed her paper plate into the garbage, slipped off her perch, and merged with the crowd, pushing and squeezing thorugh the mass of tightly-packed bodies.

   An especially heavy older man in a red sweatshirt backed up as she tried to dodge around behind him, and he knocked her into the person behind her.

   "Whoa, you okay, there?" Two strong arms hooked under her own, catching her and lifting her back onto her feet.

   "Yeah, sorry," she said, brushing herself off and turning to look at her rescuer. "Thanks--" She cut off when she saw him.