The Hockey Family

Chapter one

Grabbing my black bag from the car, I walked into the dark building. Although it was early in the morning, I felt like I had been up for hours. I walked into the locker room, turning on the lights, illuminating the large vacant space. I placed my bag on the bench and proceeded to take out my black skates. They were brand new and I needed to break them in before the new season started.

I laced up the skates. They felt stiff and heavy as a rock. I grabbed my stick from my locker. Before leaving the locker room, I eyed the name above the locker. S. Donovan. Wow, that will never get old. I walked the narrow hallway out of the locker room leading to the oversized rink. Taking in the emptiness, I walked over to the bench and placed down my water bottle and cell phone. Then I took off around the ice. I warmed up simply doing laps around the rink, getting used to the feel of the new skates.

As I glided, I felt invincible. There was no one who could take me down from this exhilarating feeling of the ice. I closed my eyes and brushed my fingers along the wooden board, feeling the grains and bumps, and ditches left by one too many crashes into the wall. I was gliding peacefully in my own little world and next thing I knew I was on the ground, the wetness of the rink seeping into my sweatpants.

"What the hell?" I yelled, looking up to a tall tower of a man. He stood erect, with shaggy brown hair, with little wisps getting in the way of his gray eyes.

He reached out his calloused hand, encompassing my tiny one, and yanked me to my feet. The instant our hands touched, I felt a pulse of electricity flowing through me. My eyes widened.

"Next time, don't be skating on my rink," he said with a tiny hint of a British accent.

"What do you mean your rink?" I asked, looking him up and down.

"Exactly what I said. I rented out the rink for the day. My name's on the list by the gate." He said calmly.

I stared at him for a few seconds before snapping out of my daydream and skating over to the gate. Sure enough it said that it was occupied all day.

"Well then, Mr. Rudeness, then I'll be leaving." I said as I went over to the bench. I quickly grabbed my items and walked off the rink. As my skate touched the rubber floor, Mr. Rudeness yelled back to me.

"What, leaving without giving me your name?" He asked with a smirk.

"Well I typically only give my name to people who ask politely, but seeing as you picked me up off the ice, I guess I'll reward you with my first name." I reached my hand out to him and grasped his hand in a firm handshake. "My name's Samantha."

"Pleased to meet you Samantha. My name is Finley."

"Well see you around." I turned around and walked into the quiet locker room. Changing from my skates into my red converse high tops, I quickly took a peek through the door before walking out of the locker room. Finley was standing at the opposite defense line and was running pucks from the line doing tricks along the way, making every one in. I walked out the back of the locker room into the parking lot to where my baby was waiting.

My black 1982 Mustang sat in the parking lot. I removed the sun shield and quickly turned on the car, listening to the familiar hum of the engine. Turning up the radio, I blasted AC/DC's Back in Black during the ride home, not caring for speed limits.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into my driveway, parking my Mustang next to my brother's car. Turning the car off and tossing my bag carelessly into the garage, I trudged up the stairs, heading to my room to take a shower. After a quick shower and putting on vanilla lotion, I braided my hair and walked down the stairs into our den. My brothers, Brandon and Michael, were seating in their usual positions in their bean bag chairs playing NHL.