The Hockey Life

PART SEVENTY-FIVE: HOCKEY’S BACK
Dylan’s P.O.V.
It was the moment of truth. I had spent months of my summer training and staying in shape for my hockey career, and it was finally time to play on Blackhawk ice. Not a real game or anything - it was only our first practice - but still. It meant a lot to me. I arrived early; much earlier than any of the other players. I just wanted my first Hawks practice to happen already, plus, it wouldn’t hurt to make a good first impression for some of the staff and players that didn’t truly know me. I was already dressed before any of my teammates arrived, and Sharpy just laughed at me when he saw me sitting by my stall in full practice uniform.
“Rookie,” he mumbled, and I gave him a shove.
“Hey! You were one, once,” I reminded him.
After a few minutes, the whole team was dressed and ready to go, and Lena had showed up in her trainer jacket looking ready for whatever the day would bring her.
“Hey. Ready for your first practice?” she wondered.
“I was born ready,” I told her cockily.
I headed out onto the ice and went through some familiar drills as well as some unfamiliar ones. The new things were difficult to adjust to at first, but I wasn’t too worried about them - I was a fast learner. I got to know some of my teammates a little better and even though they didn’t hesitate to treat me like a rookie, it was an overall good first practice in my eyes.
The first day seemed to be the icebreaker. After that, everything quickly turned into a routine. I felt good on the ice, but the preseason arrived abruptly. I didn’t play during the first few games, which honestly was a relief to me. But then Coach Q told me I was going to be in goal one day at practice, and I thought I was going to die. I immediately turned to Corey Crawford for help.
“The first game is always the scariest, preseason or not,” he admitted. “But everyone knows it’s a first for you and you’re going to be nervous and make mistakes. That’s okay. It’s only the preseason right now, so it’s not a big deal. Just try not to be too hard on yourself. I’m guilty of that a lot, but you just have to keep your head up.”
I was still afraid after that, so I went to Lena for support. I texted her a few hours before game time.
>Hey Dylan, what’s up??’

>Still nervous, huh?
>You have every right to be nervous, but just try not to let it consume you, okay?? You’re excited, right??

>Well, hold on to the excitement. That’s what’s going to get you through the night. That and confidence. Don’t forget that you’re in the NHL now for a reason. You’re good, and the professionals see it. You know you have the talent, so you just need to use it.

>Np. Patrick and I have to leave soon, so I’ll let you go. Hopefully I’ll talk to you again before the game, but if not, good luck!

As game time crept closer, my nerves and excitement grew. Before much longer, I was at the United Center, suited up for the game. I felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest as I walked out onto the ice with my team to warm up, but then I heard the roar of the crowd. I saw the red, white, and black. I read the fans’ clever signs and I watched them get on their feat to applaud us. That was what made me realize how cool it was that I was getting this huge opportunity to play in front of all these dedicated people. That was when my happiness began to transform into adrenaline.
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Lena’s P.O.V.
I was so proud of Dylan. He had been afraid just a few hours before he got to the United Center, and yet he had helped his new team win a game. The final score was 3-1, and Dylan had made twenty-one saves in his first attempt of the preseason. As soon as he got into the locker room, I wrapped my arms around him and his bulky hockey gear.
“Congrats on the win!” I told him, squeezing him tightly despite the fact that he was really sweaty.
“Thanks,” he said, hugging me back. “Here, have some of my sweat,” he added.
“Yeah, maybe you should go take a shower and then we can talk,” I laughed.
“Where’s my hug?” a familiar voice asked as two strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind.
“Nice goal, babe. Don’t forget to save some for the regular season, though,” I told Patrick as I turned around to embrace him. “You need a shower too,” I noticed.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”
I left the players alone for a while and eventually they all were showered and ready to go. I found Dylan once more to talk to him again, and Patrick followed the two of us out to the parking lot. When we got to Dylan’s car, Patrick took my hand and urged me to come to the car with him so we could go home. It seemed like he didn’t like all the extra attention I was giving to Dylan and he was trying to get me home faster.
“What’s up with you?” I wondered when we got into his Hummer.
“What do you mean?”
“Why wouldn’t you let me talk to Dylan?”
“I did let you talk to him. You had a whole big conversation with him. I just thought you guys had talked enough,” he answered.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Patrick’s reaction to that question was hilarious. He actually stopped what he was doing and looked at me.
“Jealous? Jealous of what?”
“Jealous of the fact that Dylan’s getting extra attention for once instead of you! Pat, this was his first game; it’s exciting for him. He needs the extra comments and encouragement. You’re already extremely talented and comfortable in your position. It’s not like I don’t care about your goal or how you played, it’s just that you’re both at different levels.” Patrick sighed at this.
“Okay. Maybe I was a little jealous. But really, what do I have to worry about? I’m the one with two Stanley Cups, one of which I scored the game winner for,” he smirked as he finally started the car.
“That’s very true,” I nodded.
“Seriously, though. I’m sorry. I was just being stupid.”
“It’s okay! I like that you get a little jealous sometimes. As annoying as it can be when I just want to support a good friend, it shows that you care.”
“I do care, a whole lot. In fact, I better get us home so I can show you just how much I care,” Patrick smiled.
When we got home, Pat went to the bathroom and I snuck into the closet and snatched my Kane jersey out of it. I did a quick wardrobe change and laid down on the bed. I got into the “draw me like one of your French girls” pose and actually had to hold back a laugh when I thought about how ridiculous it probably looked. But when Patrick found me in our room, he didn’t laugh.
“Wow, nice legs,” he commented, since they were bare. “I like the jersey too, of course. Can I ask what you’re wearing under it?”
“Nothing,” I admitted. I wanted to show him how excited I was for the regular season - for him, not just for Dylan.
“I like this outfit. You should wear it more often,” he grinned, his arms finding their way around me.
“If you have a really good season, maybe I will,” I said.
“Damn. I better work hard, then,” he decided, kissing me hard after he said it.
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In the morning, it was business as usual. Patrick and I had to go to the morning practice. After that, we had a quick lunch and I headed over to my salon for hair and makeup trials for the wedding. Luckily for me, my hair stylist knew me well enough to already have a good idea of my likes and dislikes when it came to my hair. She also was great at doing makeup, so she would do mine for the wedding.
I had a few ideas for hair, but my favorite was a curly, half up, half down style. I had a feeling it would be the one I ended up gong with, so I had my stylist try it first. Sure enough, I loved it, and I didn’t even want to try anything else. After I showed her pictures of my dress, accessories, and color theme, I let her experiment with my makeup. She ended up going with dramatic grey smoky eyes, barely-there blush, and nude lipstick. It looked absolutely amazing, and I felt so lucky to have a stylist who could get it all right on the first try. I couldn’t wait until she did it all over again for the wedding. I loved the look so much that I happily kept it and left the salon, probably looking too glamorous for my plain outfit.
“This is sort of how I’ll look on our wedding day. What do you think?” I asked when I got back home.
“You look great, Lean. You always do. It’s hard for me to envision it when you’re not in the dress, though,” Pat responded.
“Sorry, my hoodie and jeans will have to do for now. I feel like I need to wear something fancy for this hair and makeup to look normal,” I chuckled.
“How about you go put something nice on and I’ll take you out to dinner?” Patrick suggested.
“I’m always up for that,” I smiled. “Where are we going?”
“Wherever you want.”
“I know it’s not that fancy, but I’ve been craving Olive Garden,” I confessed.
“Breadsticks from there sound awesome right now. Let’s get changed and then we’ll go.”
Patrick and I ended up having a perfect night. Our dinner was delicious and we walked around the city for a bit afterwards to enjoy the nice night. It was one of the last nights we got to really enjoy before hockey and our wedding completely took over our lives once again.

Notes