A couple weeks later Carl called me to let me know he found a place so I began packing. I wondered what exactly I’d do in Pittsburgh but figured it wouldn’t really matter because I would be away snowboarding most of the time.
I had arrived in Pittsburgh a few days later and got off the plane to find Carl waiting for me.

“Hi brother!” I yell in Swedish while hugging him.

“Hi sister,” he laughs. We head towards the baggage area to collect my stuff.

“So how are you? How are things? How’s the team? Are you adjusting? I watched the games and you guys won so it looks like you’re adjusting.” I spit out quickly.

“I’m good. Things are good. I’m adjusting really well. The guy’s are great, the staff is great, and they’re making this transition really easy for me. Yeah if we keep playing how we’re playing we’ll make the playoffs for sure.” He says calmly answering all of my questions.

“I’m glad to hear that,” I say smiling.

“Are you going to be training here?” he asks.

“Yeah I am, but Bud is trusting me enough to train myself,” I reply. If I ever went on vacation I’m sure Bud would find a way for me to train in some capacity.

“Oh cool.” We grab my bags and make our way to the parking lot. He puts his address in the gps and I laugh.

“What, I don’t know the city yet,” he responds defensively. We drive for a good 40 minutes before pulling into a parking garage in the heart of downtown. We make our way to his apartment and I’m surprised when we walk through the door. It has an amazing view of the city but I’m shocked to see boxes everywhere.

“You still haven’t unpacked yet?” I asked, trying to maneuver through the mess.

“I’ve only been here a couple weeks, and one of those weeks we were on the road,” he says defensively. I put my bags in the spare room then come back to the kitchen to start unpacking. “I’ll order us some food,” he says while leaving the room. I look around the room and admire the apartment I think about how hard it must be to be traded. Carl was on the New York Rangers and he had built a brotherly bond with a lot of the guys on that team and I know it was hard for him to get the call saying he was coming here. I really hoped he liked in here in Pittsburgh. I had just finished putting the kitchenware away when I hear the buzzer. Not knowing where Carl is, I buzz the delivery guy up and get my wallet. I hear a knock on the door and open the door to find a scrawny kid that looks about 18 years old. I ask him how much total is but he just has a blank stare on his face.

“Um hello?” I ask switching to English.

“You’re Phoenix Hagelin.” He finally says.

“I am,”

“You’re my lock screen wallpaper,” he says, showing me a picture of me from my GQ shoot.

“Oh wow,” I say, not knowing how to handle this situation.

“Oh yeah, you’re total is $36.90. Can I get an autograph? I think you’re an awesome snowboarder,”

“Sure, and thanks,” I say while signing a napkin. I give the guy the guy his tip and the napkin and he leaves with the biggest smile on his face.

“That was painful to watch,” Carl says from behind me.

“Shut up,” I say bringing the food to the island.

“Was is the bikini picture?” he asks.

“Yes, it was,” I say sighing. I had did a GQ shoot and I wore a bikini in it and since then I’ve been tagged in Woman Crush Wednesdays posts in it ever since. I admit the photographer made me look really good in the photos but I wasn’t so sure I liked all the attention that came with it.

“That’s the same picture I had to take down in the dressing room,” he says while stuffing his face with food.

“It’s not like it’s my fault they put that picture up. They just did it to bug you,” I reply.

“You know if you didn’t do shoots like that, you wouldn’t be over sexualized so much. Your agent does a better job at selling your looks than he does your talent,”

“That’s not fair. Elliott was a big part of me winning gold at the Olympics. He always has my best interests at heart.” I say defensively.

“Whatever you say sis,” he says surrendering. “Speaking of teammates though, remember our rule.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” I say rolling my eyes. Our oldest brother Bobbie and Carl had this rule that forbade me to date any of their teammates.

“Anyway they’re having this dinner at Marc Andre Fleury’s tomorrow and I asked if I could bring you. Do you want to come?”

“Sure. I like food.” I say finishing the last of my dinner. “By the way you owe me for dinner, I’m your guest AND I’m unpacking for you.” I say angrily. He laughs and hands me cash and I spend the rest of the evening unpacking.

---

“Phoenix wake up we have to leave soon,” I hear a distant voice say. I slowly get out of bed and head to the bathroom and take a quick shower. I get out and pick a black long sleeve turtleneck and jeans. I blow-dry my hair and we soon leave to the goaltenders house. We get out of the car and I find myself feeling nervous for some odd reason. We knock on the door and a very attractive woman with brown hair greets us.

“Hi Carl it’s nice to see you again,” she turns to me and smiles. “And you must be Phoenix. I’ve heard so much about you, I’m Veronique, but you can just call me Vero,” she says warmly. I smile and say hi and we walk into the very large home. The guys all greet Carl and I see some of the wags sitting and talking.

“So you must be Phoenix. I’m Pascal, that guy cooking over there is Marc, and these two are Chris and Kris.” He says outstretching his hand.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you guys,” I reply smiling. I knew most of these guys just by watching hockey over the years but it was nice to meet them in person. “Here I’ll take you on a tour to meet everyone.” He guides me to the living room where some of the guy’s were sitting with their significant others. “Everyone this is Phoenix, Carl’s twin sister, Phoenix this is everyone,”

“Ahhh another Swede, sweet” a large man says in Swedish while hugging me. I laugh and smile at him.

“I’m Geno,” a man with a thick Russian accent says. On the inside, I was very excited to meet Evgeni Malkin. He had always been one of my favorite hockey players to watch. I meet Beau, Olli Maatta, Brandon Sutter, James Neal, Robert Bortuzzo and Paul Martin.

“Hey Sid come over here. This is Phoenix.” Pascal says to someone behind me. I turn and meet a large pair of hazel eyes. He smiles and outstretches his hand. I attempt to move my arm but it feels heavy as though I’m moving underwater. We shake hands and continue looking at each other until he finally speaks.

“Hi..uh.. It’s nice to meet you.” I let go of his hand as I suddenly become aware of time and space. Everything that had been in slow motion has now picked up to its normal speed. It felt as though hours past but I look around and no one is looking at me weird.

“You must be really excited for Sochi,” I hear a voice and look around to until I find its owner.

“Um yeah it’ll be cool competing in Russia,” I say feeling disoriented. I excuse myself to the restroom and stare at myself in the mirror. I look especially pale but my blue eyes are piercing. ‘What the fuck just happened?’ I splash water on my face try to get myself in check. Was I star struck? Hockey players didn’t make me star struck, and If one were too, it would probably be like Peter Forsberg or Geno. I compose myself and head back out to the group.

“You okay?” Carl asks concerned.

“Yeah I’m fine. Low blood sugar,” I lie. I head to the kitchen where I grab some food then find an open seat beside Kris. We start light conversation about hockey, and I find everyone starts slowly migrating towards the kitchen from the living room. Geno and Patric sit down and I’m soon tearing up laughing over some story Geno was telling about training camp in Russia. Beau gets up from the seat across the table and decides to help Vero clean up. Just my luck, when I’m starting to feel comfortable, Crosby comes and sits across from me. He looks at me but I know better than to hold his eye contact for too long. “So Geno are you excited to compete on home soil?” I ask trying to distract myself.

“Oh yes. Russia finally beat Canada on home soil,” he boasts proudly.

“Easy there big guy, Canada needs another gold,” Sid laughs.

“Why need another? You already have lots,” Geno says, causing everyone to laugh.

“Carl was saying how you might get 2 gold medals this year?” James asks, causing the attention to fall on me.

“Yeah they’re adding another snowboarding event called slopestyle. It’s a series of rails and jumps. And I’ll be aiming for gold, but I’d be happy going home with any medal for either event,” I say casually.

“Man that’s awesome,” Robert says approvingly.

“Even though I’m American, when it comes to snowboarding, Sweden’s got my vote,” Paul chimes in. A bunch of the guys agree and I am humbled that I am accepted so much within this group.

“But when it comes to hockey, Canada all the way. Sweden’s all ready got all the attractive people.” Pascal adds.

“Yeah everyone except Horny,” Marc Andre jokes. It starts to get late and right before Carl and I leave, I remember I left my bag.

“I’ll meet you at the car.” I tell him and then go in search of it. I go to a hallway where I hear I hear someone on the phone.

“Look I gotta go,” I hear Sidney say exasperatedly. He hangs up and turns around and a shocked look face falls on his face when he realizes I’m standing there.

“This probably looks bad. I wasn’t eavesdropping; I was just looking for my bag." I say awkwardly.

“Oh no it’s okay,” he says sighing.

“Are you okay?” I ask. I’m not sure if I’m crossing a line, but he’s not hiding the stress on his face very well.

“Yeah I think so. Just spreading myself a little thin lately. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

“Being the face of a sport is no joke, especially around Olympic time. Give me your phone.” I say with confidence. He gets it out and hands it to me. I open his contacts and add my information. “I’m really good at giving advice and even better at listening. If you ever find yourself feeling like butter feel free to text me. Athlete to athlete. Friend to friend?” He smiles this crooked smile that makes my stomach flip. I soon remember that Carl is in the car and I say good-bye to him. I grab my bag and then get into the car smiling ear to ear.

“What the hell took you so long?” he asks irritably.

“Sorry I couldn’t find my bag.” I half lie. Tired from the day, we head home and get ready for tomorrow’s game.

Notes