Move Over

"Morning, beautiful" I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror. I had had a long night, my phone wouldn't stop ringing, it was either Emmie's face or Tuukka's face and I didn't want to talk to either of them, knowing exactly what they had to say. So I pressed ignore 23 times before they finally gave up.

I took a well-needed, hot shower and got dressed in a pair of basketball shorts, a tank top,and my black Adidas zip-up hoodie (clothes) then grabbed my workout bag. I jogged down the three levels of stairs then pushed open the door to the block. My truck was parked in front where Tuukka was so gingerly leaning against my truck, waiting for me or something.

"Where are you going?" He asked, as I so obviously gave him the cold shoulder. I threw the backseat door open and tossed my workout bag in. Was he stalking me? Or did he just love to stay outside my apartment?

"The gym" I snapped then rolled my eyes and opened my truck door, just to have pushed back in its original place.

"Have fun on your date?" He gave me a confused look, then rolled his eyes.

"It's rude to eavesdrop on people's conversations" He hissed in a low tone, giving me a look that said I'd hit him below the belt but- I really didn't care.

"It's not my fault you talk loud in Swedish" He took his hand away from the door, giving a low scoff. I opened the door, and got into my truck and turned the it on. I rolled down my window, giving Tuukka a death glare as Avenged Sevenfold blasted through my speakers.

"I'll see you at the rink, then"

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I laid down in the middle of the ice, letting myself catch my breath. I huffed, and stared at the rafters. A silent tear ran down my face and I swiped it away. I wasn't going to let some guy, get the better of me. I wasn't going to be that washed up hockey player, no, I was going to be the ultimate goalie and show up everyone, my sister, Marchand, Chara, Seguin and Rask.

I pushed up from the ice, noticing I was no longer alone. Bob, the goal-tending coach was watching me with eyes like a hawk's.

"Hey, Bob" I greeted as he skated closer. He didn't look too happy today, and I wondered if he really gave me that Smirnoff last night or it was someone else. I shuddered at the thought of someone else in my apartment.

"Get in goal, you need practice" He demanded, I nodded and entered the crease. He dumped a pale full of pucks on the ice.

He shot the first one towards my 5 hole, I tightened up and caught it in my pads.

"Tell me your weak spots" he smiled, giving the sense that he was trustworthy, "Everyone has them"

"Right Top shelf, backhand" I mumbled. I hadn't told anyone that.

"Okay," He charged up the ice, spinarama. I caught the ice shower and the only thing I thought I do was push right. I was lucky, he made a backhand shot right into my chest.

"Apparently, her weak spot isn't that weak" he muttered to himself, as he skated back to the pile of pucks.

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I sprayed the water in my mouth and skated off the ice, Bob had left half an hour ago and I needed to start my pregame rituals. We were playing Edmonton Tonight. Jordan Eberle, Taylor Hall, and Ryan Nugent-Hopkins.

Jordan Eberle: Backhand, Taylor Hall: Backhand, Ryan Nugent-Hopkins: Forehand.

As if on que, the Oilers begun pouring out of the visitors locker room. I rolled my eyes as Taylor Hall pointed to me, talking to Jordan Eberle. I picked up helmet off the bench and headed towards the locker room.

"Is it true you banged Rask?" Taylor yelled and I stopped, then spun around.

"I dunno, Is it true you've fucked every girl and their friend in Edmonton?" I smirked at his face and continued towards the locker room.

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We stepped out onto the ice, it was all so familiar. The fans screaming, the white, black and yellow, and the posters.

I skated in goal and begun warming up. Stretches, and practice shots. I was focused, even if the guys said something, I didn't hear it. My breathing is what I was focusing on. Hall: Backhand, Eberle: Backhand, N-Hopkins: Forehand. I repeated the three top scores favorite shots until the drop of the puck.

As soon as the puck touched the ice, I was getting pushed around. They didn't protect me and frankly I didn't really expect them to or even need them to. I was a big girl I could take care of myself.Sam Gagner was the first to push me over, into the goal. My head was millimeters from the crossbar. Before, I could control myself, I lost it. If they wouldn't protect me, i would protect myself. I caught the puck in mid air, then when the whistle blew; tossed it at the ref. I tackled Gagner, I threw off my gloves, and begun punching him- uppercut, right hook, left hook, right jab. His face was bleeding, and I barely had a scratch.

"Don't mess with me, bitch" I breathed and saw the fear in his eyes.

"Lehto, get off of him" the ref demanded. I laughed, and let go of his jersey, hauling myself off of him. The crowd roared and I took off my mask, taking a bow.

I glanced at the bench, Claude was glaring at me as Adam McQuaid made his way into the penalty box. I smirked, they were on the power play, this would be fun.

34 shots later, we were leading by 3. The Oilers had only one goal and it wasn't counted as it was offside. Bergeron, Lucic, and Marchand were the goal scorers. I had assisted on one goal, I had deflected it to Marchand who got a breakaway, through the 5 hole.

I had only got in one fight and after that, Jordan Eberle, Sam Gagner, Taylor Hall and Ryan Nugent-Hopkins stayed away from me. The final buzzer went and Sam Gagner came up to me.

"Bitch, you better not punch me" I cocked an eyebrow at him and he smiled.

"Nah, I'm not that stupid and besides you already get that from them" He nodded towards Brad who was, along with everyone else, glaring at me. I smirked at them but, returned to looking at Sam.

"Yeah, well, they hate me" he chuckled and he stuck out his hand.

"You're an amazing goalie" He stated and bro hugged me.

"Thanks, I have to go," I begun to skate away, only to turn around, "you're not that bad either"

I skated over to my bench, and Marchand scoffed, "Making friends?"

I laughed and grabbed him, going in to punch him but, stopping millimeters from his face. The fear was visible in his eyes.

"Making babies? Is my sister getting old yet, or are you gonna ride that for awhile?" I chuckled, letting go of his jersey and strutting into the locker room, like I owned the joint. I wasn't surprised the reporters were crowding Lucic. He had scored more goals than most forwards would in 3 seasons, he averaged 1 a game and he definitely lived up to the average.

"The guys aren't really open to having her back here but, she'll adjust" He said and I rolled my eyes.

'Aren't really open' is the understatement of the year. They would throw themselves under buses instead of rooming with me. I was silent, I just took my towels and clothes to the showers. I had a quick shower and got dressed, I didn't want to be with these assholes any longer than I had to be.


When I entered the dressing room as if he'd shot me, there was Tuukka tongue fucking a bottle blonde, puck bunny. She had on a Rask jersey on with her skin tight leggings, a push up bra and a nose piercing.

"and I thought this was a private dressing room" I interrupted them, picking up my bag as the bitch glared at me while, Tuukka went red.

"Alek, I can explain-" I cut him off.

"Why explain, we're just barely teammates." I snapped, and walked out of the dressing room, head hung low.

I hadn't been this down since Emmie first left, and I had to suffer through the Finnish elite. I was almost to my truck when someone grabbed my arm. My first instinct was to punch, but, Tuukka blocked it.

"I want to explain,"

Notes

I dunno what to write here. I'm not good at these things......