Part of the Team (ON HOLD)

I woke up the next morning feeling like I had slept for five minutes. I still felt tired and groggy. That was, until I remembered what day it was. I was instantly awake, and my mind started asking questions. It was past eleven, where were they? Did they leave yet? Did they skip me because I was asleep?
My eye caught a note on the nightstand. It rested on the brim of my hat from the game last night. Picking up the note, I read it.

Lizzie,
The Habs are here. Don't panic! I have to escort them around today, & when I told them about you they said save the best for last. Probably be there around 3-ish. :)
- Chels

Oh.

Ok, no reason to panic. They would be here, eventually.Yea, no reason to panic. The Montreal Canadiens would be in the same room as me in a short amount of time.

No, stress level = zero.

Returning the note to its spot, I noticed something else Chelsea had left me. It was a small, old, pink flip phone. There was a sticky note on it, and it read 'Give me a buzz if you need anything'
Opening it up, I saw the screensaver was a selfie Chelsea had taken. It was half her hilarious face, with Dr. Scott in the background writing something on a notepad. I laughed out loud. Opening the contacts, I saw only one, Chelsea's. I opened the pictures; so glad I did. There were almost twenty, all of Chelsea and her co-workers. I smiled at each one. She had convinced most of them to pull the funniest faces they could. There was even one of a patient getting a blood transfusion. He pulled a pinkie-finger-on-the-mouth look. It was awesome. I checked the time. 12:41
Closing it back up, I set it back on the table. I yawned.

Leaning back on the pillows, I shifted my gaze to the bed sheets. I drew an imaginary picture. It started as a tree and a flower, but ended with a big C.

Checked the time again. 12:46

I signed loudly and threw my head back on the pillows. I looked to my right to see the outside world. The window curtain was slightly open. I could see the highway crawling with cars. I watched them for a little bit before checking the time again.

12:52

Turning back to the highway, I started counting red cars until I feel asleep.

********************

I cracked up eyes open, finally feeling rested for the first time in what seemed like forever. I inhaled sharply, rubbing my eye with the heel of my hand. A blinking light caught my attention; the flip phone. I flicked it open. I didn't even get to the message before I was cracking up. The name she put for herself in my phone was absolute gold.

- From: Chelseawesonurse :D

YOU FEEL ASLEEP?!? The Habs were in the same vincinity!! What the heck girl!! Haha, as of 3:19 they left to get food. I told them to get you some, you're WELCOME. They should be back around 3:30. Shoot me a text when you wake up. :P
I smiled before replying with a simple "I'm awake. FOOD"

I grabbed the snapback from the table, expertly tossing it back in my chest. Placing the phone back on the table, I discovered anther note. So many notes. I snapped a picture of it with the phone and sent it to Chelsea with the caption: "MANY NOTES. SUCH WRITING. WOW. SO INFORMATION. WUT YOU TRYING TO TELL ME. WOW."

The note was placed on the single table drawer. All it had was a drawing of an arrow, pointing towards the handle. I opened the drawer to find a perfectly folded shirt. Ok, defiantly my favorite person. Until 3:30, that is.

Stripping myself of last night's shirt, I pulled the new one over my head. I threw the slightly wrinkled shirt in the chest as well. Nothin but net. Before I could sit and start waiting again, I heard laughter from the hallways.

Unmistakably belonging to Brenden Gallagher and PK Subban.

Oh. Ok.

I heard more voices as the laughter died down. As it started getting closer, it quieted down, and Chelsea's voice reached my ears. I heard the door click, and watched it crack open a little. I saw an eye, and a bunch of bodies crowding behind it.

"I think she's awake." I heard someone whisper-yell. PK Subban.

"Well if she wasn't before she probably is now." Max Pacioretty.

"Open it." Alex Galchenyuk.

"I wanna eat!" Brendan Gallagher.

"Yea, you better give her the food." I heard Chelsea say with a laugh.

"What? She probably only wants to see us, forget the food." I heard a voice say with another laugh.

"I'd choose food over you any day, Whitey." I shouted back.

There was a moment of silence before the hallway erupted in laughs. The door was pushed open to reveal a very stunned looking Ryan White, complete with toothy smirk.

On a side note, no idea where THAT chirp came from. Currently, I was a lot calmer than I or even Chelsea thought I would be. Apparently calm enough to chirp Ryan White.

"You would pick food over this?" he spoke, pointed at his face, still smiling.

Before I could respond, I was interrupted by Carey Price.

"I would too." he said, pushing into the room, to-go box in hand. Poor Whitey. He was getting ragged on by everyone. Carey walked to my bed, handing me the box. He plays hockey and just gave me food. Sorry Chelsea. I gratefully accepted it, beaming at the starting netminder. He returned the gesture.

"I'd introduce myself and the rest of the guys but I'd wager that you know who all of us are." he said.

"You would surely win that bet, sir." I replied. He laughed, and turned as the rest of the guys filed in. I took the opportunity to study the contents of the box. Italian. Oh. Yea. It was cheese lasagna, one of my favorites. I returned my eyes to the hockey players occupying my room.

"Yea!" I heard from the tallest one in the room. The Violent Gent himself jogged over to me, searching for a high five that I gladly gave. It's not that often that you get to high five George Parros.

"Honorary official Violent Gent." he said, pointed to me and my shirt and giving a mustached smirk. I laughed.

"Well, I guess I can cross that off my bucket list." I replied, earning a few chuckles from the guys. I saw Chelsea smile and wave from the door, before gently shutting it. I took a quick stock of the men in my room.

Rene Bourque, Daniel Briere, Lars Eller, Alex Galchenyuk, Brendan Gallagher, PK Subban, Ryan White, Max Pacioretty, George Parros, Brian Gionta, Carey Price, Josh Gorges, Andrei Markov, and Peter Budaj.

"Jesus, did you bring the whole roster? At least you have my favorite." I wondered out loud. I knew that they didn't actually bring all the guys, but I mean damn. Usually it was only a handful of guys, not half the team. More laughs from the guys.

“Oooh, who’s you’re favorite?” Bourque asked like a school girl. I laughed at his antics.

“I don’t want to make you guys jealous.” I said honestly. I loved all the guys for different reasons; I really didn’t want to pick favorites. Although I did have one.

“Aww, c’mon tell us! It’s probably me.” Gally said, smirking.

“Uh, no, I brought her food. It’s defiantly me.” Carey replied.

“She’s wearing my shirt, I think that’s a sign.” Parros argued.

They all started saying similar things, stating why they were or should be my favorite player. I sat in the middle of it all, smirking. If only they knew…

After a while, I turned to Max.

“Hey Max, would you mind getting something for me?”

He looked a little surprised, but responded quickly with a “Yea sure. What is it?”

I pointed to my trunk. “It’s in there, it should be stuck down in the sides.”

He turned and did as I asked. The guys quieted down and watched. I watched as Max turned to me with a shocked expression.

“Really? Out of everyone on the team, you pick him?” he asked. I laughed and nodded. He pulled out the item in question. It was a signed, 7x5 picture.

Of Peter Budaj.

He held it up for the room to see, grandly showing it off to everyone gathered in the room. Up until now, Peter had been quietly standing by the door. When he saw the picture, he laughed and smiled at me. All the guys expressed their distaste, chirping me on my player-picking abilities. Peter made his way over to my bed.

“Thank you. Now I don’t have to listen to them say how many fans they have.” Loved the accent.

“But we still have more than you do!” PK argued.

“Yea but I have the badass who picked food over Whitey!” Buds responded almost instantly. The room erupted in choruses of ‘Oooohhs’. I laughed; I picked the right man.

“Take notes boys, that’s why he’s my favorite.” For what seemed like the tenth time, they all laughed. At what I said. The Habs laughed at what I SAID. Again, a lot more calm that I thought I would be. The laughter died down, and some of the guys sat in the chairs available.

“Oh, you guys still have to eat. I would tell you to sit, but there really isn’t anywhere to.” Chuckling, many of the guys just plopped down on the floor. I re-opened the box, studying the meal before I heard another question, this time aimed at my arm.

“So how did that happen?” The captain himself asked, gesturing to my broken appendage.

“I got in a car wreck, well more like an orphanage-bus-wreck-with-an-eighteen wheeler-thrown-in-there.” I laughed.

“Wait, an orphan bus?” Peter asked. I gave him a small, sad smile.

“Yea, it’s kind of a long story.”

Notes

Sorry I missed an upload day!!! like I said in the comments, there won't be a lovey-type story, just a brother-sister and father-daughter stuff going on. hope that's ok

this is the shirt she was wearing


you guys are awesome, this is my first story and you guys are so supportive! I love you all, keep the comment coming, I really appreciate them! :D