----- Grace Hartin

"I still can't believe that Tyler got traded," Sara repeated for the fifth time in the past three minutes.

We had spent the past half an hour sprawled out over her bed talking about the trade and the Bruins. I had gone over to her house to watch the Stanley Cup Finals and we were both devastated because of the Game 6 loss to the Chicago Blackhawks. Add the trades and both of us had just about hit rock bottom.

"Saying that over and over again isn't going to change anything," I said quietly, "but I can't believe it either." We had been hearing rumors for a while, though neither of us believed it was anything other than management trying to scare Tyler Seguin into playing better and being more mature.

"I mean look at him Grace," Sara pointed helplessly at the picture of him on her screen, "he's so fucking hot."

I couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah we all know that he's really hot, but he also wasn't too shabby of a player. He just didn't seem to be able to click with his line or finish the plays."

Sara continued to scroll through her Tumblr feed which consisted of Bruins pictures and GIFs from an assortment of shows. "He should've been with Marchand and Bergeron," she pointed to another photo, as she did with all the ones that featured Tyler.

"The best looking line in the NHL", I read the caption.

"You can say that again."

"The best--"

"Shut the hell up Grace," I laughed at her change of pace. Sara had been one of my best friends for the longest time and I couldn't pass up a good opportunity to push her buttons.

Her room was pitch black. The clock read 4:08AM, but it barely felt like midnight. We'd been on Tumblr the entire time, absentmindedly browsing through the hot guys and funny GIFs while chatting. The current selection of hot guys were hockey players.

"At least he was traded to the Stars," I picked our conversation back up, "instead of some hotshot team where tensions would feel a lot higher."

"Imagine McQuaid and Seguin fighting."

I was suddenly reminded of the '3 fights in 4 seconds and 2 goals in 45 seconds' game between the Bruins and Stars and pulled the video up on my laptop for her to watch. "Them fighting wouldn't be pretty," I commented.

"Wouldn't be pretty for Seguin," she let out a puff of air before slamming a pillow into her face and yelling, "Why did this happen! What if the Stars and Bruins fight? Ugh, Seguin that poor baby."

"Don't even get me started on that," I scrolled through my feed to keep from getting into that conversation when I came across a photo of Tyler with his ears sticking out from his hat. "Look at this baby Dumbo," I cooed, unable to keep myself from laughing.

"Stop it! You aren't helping!" Sara scrolled through my feed furiously until it appeared that there were not more pictures of the Bruins. When she was satisfied she settled back into her Tumblr, telling me that I was allowed to touch my computer again,

I rolled my eyes, "I'll go find some other hot players then."

Sara, practically drooling, muttered to herself. "Yeah, and I'll look at McQuaid."

The sweetheart off the ice, big bad fighter on the ice was the first player that either of us had found attractive. His fighting was never subpar and the way that he was off the ice was absolutely adorable. We had expected some badass, but came to find the quiet guy who loved his hometown and stir fry.

"This is actually painful, I'm gonna go get some popcorn."

I felt the bed move as she got up to go to the kitchen, "Grab me a glass of water while you're there please."

Sara was quick to respond with a simple 'no', but she always brought me water.

"Cubed ice!" I called out after her in a loud whisper. When her parents woke up in the wee hours of the morning to find us up it was never a problem. When her sister woke up we were pretty much dead. The same rules applied to my house, except I'd get snacks and drinks.

I sighed as I began my search for other hockey players. There had to be more attractive players, it's just going through the basics after the initial thrill of finding them isn't the greatest part of the process. Plus after that there was the downhill track that was 'hey, here's a famous guy who will never know that you exist'.

My fingers moved across my computer without my brain following.

Tyler Seguin at Club… Marchand and Seguin Bromance… Bruins sweep Penguins… Stanley Cup raised by Chicago Blackhawks Captain Jonathan Toews…

The caption made me cringe, but the photo caught my attention. I'd seen all 6 games of the finals, but I never stopped to look at the players we faced. Their captain however, had a face that I should've -- shouldn't have noticed. It hurt to look at the picture, but I couldn't tell if it was because we lost the cup, or because he was really attractive. Either way it was needless to say I was curious and began the journey into #Jonathan Toews.

"Popcorn and water," I looked up in time to grab my water before Sara threw herself onto the bed, scattering popcorn everywhere.

"Nice one," I grabbed some popcorn near me and continued to scroll.

"Find anyone?"

"Yeah kinda," I turned the screen away from her and began methodically eating the popcorn. "This is good popcorn."

Sara's mouth was full with popcorn and she barely managed to stuff the last couple of pieces in so she could slide under the covers, "I know, I added butter. Now show me this guy." Completely ignoring my protests she reached over my body and grabbed my computer. At first she had no reaction. Then it was easy to see that she wasn't impressed.

"He's not even attractive Grace, come on."

I opened my mouth to respond, but she beat me to it.

"But you're right, we have different tastes in guys bla bla bla," I rolled my eyes and she furrowed her eyebrows. "Who does he even play for?"

My heartbeat started picking up, here would be when she'd really give me a piece of her mind. I muttered quietly, "The Chicago Blackhawks."

"The who?"

I took a deep breath, "The Chicago Blackhawks."

Sara shut my computer, putting out the single source of light and leaving us in a pitch black room.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope," I slid under the covers and took off my glasses, placing them on the bedside table. The dark room gave me a new sense of confidence that her death stare could take from me in seconds.

She scoffed, "You do remember that they beat us for the Stanley Cup, right?"

"Obviously I remember that."

"And you don't care?"

"You play soccer, don't you know that losing is a part of the game. We both played hard and in the end they wanted it more. I mean, we won the Stanley Cup more recently than them anyways so…"

I felt a sharp pain in my side where her fist connected with me. An abrupt puff of air left my chest and I grabbed my side.

"Doesn't mean I like them. And now I call dibs on McQuaid, you've lost your privileges."

"Well that's not fair," I began.

"My ass it's not fair."

"But Sara," I rolled onto my side and poked her shoulder until she batted my hand off, "he's Captain Serious and it's really hot."

"You find serious hot?"

It took me a second to answer. I had never really thought about what I found to be 'hot', but he seemed to fit the bill. "Yeah, I do find it hot. Do you still like bad boys?"

"Yeah, but McQuaid is such a sweetheart I might have to change that."

I laughed, "Aww that's cute. You know I never thought you'd say something like that."

"Well don't get used to it."

"Too late."

We both lay in the darkness for a while. I tried to let my mind go and fall asleep, but my thoughts were everywhere. They consisted of everything from hockey to what we were going to eat when we got up.

"You know what's depressing Grace?"

I would have liked to have been able to tell her that I was about to fall asleep, but I had a pretty depressing realization at that moment too. "What?"

"We aren't busty blondes."

Images of hockey players with their model WAGs popped into my head, "I was thinking the exact same thing. Maybe it's like a phase they go through and they settle with brunettes? Ugh I don't even want to think about it."

"You know who really seems to like busty blondes?" she didn't wait for me to even guess before she snickered, "Jonathan Toews. Plus he's 10 years older than you."

I whipped a small pillow up from behind my head and brought it down hard where I assumed her body was. The pillow made impact with her with a loud thump and an 'oof'.

"Yeah, yeah I get it. Let's sleep, I'm exhausted," I lied. I was just done trying to defend myself and hoped that I'd have a good dream, which was very likely considering the photos I had been staring at for hours.

Sara felt around in the dark, tossing the covers around, "I got this app with sounds that put you to sleep." I covered my eyes with my arm to shield myself from the bright light of her iPhone screen.

"Just try some, one is bound to knock us out."

"Okay, let's start with a river."

"You're going to make me have to pee."

"Sounds of Australia?"

I stifled a laugh, "that's a joke right?"

"Rain on a tarp?"

"Play it."

Notes

Is this okay in 1st person? I was debating 1st and 3rd.

Also any comments would be helpful, even an encouraging "good job"

Sorry if my notes are bugging you... I'll leave now.