Dinner and a Moment

I stared over at Jay McKee, my face seeming to melt down into more disgust the longer I looked at him.

After a good minute or so of my staring, he finally looked up, the pasta he was slurping off of his plate hanging out of his mouth, the sauce coating his lips and chin. He stared at me for a moment, the pasta just hanging out of his mouth, before he started laughing, almost choking on the mouthful of half chewed food. He slurped up the rest of the pasta hanging from his mouth, grabbing his napkin to wipe away most of the sauce, and swallowed all of the food before smiling. “I’m so sorry you had to witness that. Pasta has always given me issues, especially noodles like fettuccini, and all of these guys have just gotten used to it. I forgot about you and your friend.”

I tried to smile, still attempting to get over the image of his half chewed food and the cow noises he made while eating. “It’s okay. You just have to warn a girl before you sit across from her,” I explained.

“It’s really just pasta that makes me like this,” He tried to explain. “I swear, if I had ordered a steak, this would have never happened.”

“Then why didn’t you order a steak?” I asked, making Jordan, who was beside me, laugh.

Jay made a face, “Because I wanted pasta.”

“Don’t even bother arguing with him,” Jordan told me. “There is no point.”
I decided not to carry on with my inquisitions and returned to my plate of half eaten chicken and mashed potatoes, still trying to adjust to the fact that I was in the middle of a very fancy restaurant, with all of the hockey players I had been watching on TV sitting around the table with me. It was unreal, and I was still expecting to wake up in a hospital with the doctor telling me that I had been in some terrible accident, spent the last few weeks in a coma and the only company I had was the TV in my room, which was playing a Penguins game.

I felt a piece of asparagus smack my face, knocking me out of my train of thought and causing me to let out a long sigh as I looked up at the giggling Matt Cooke and Marc-Andre Fleury, the two of them laughing so hard they were silent, their eyes filling with tears and their faces turning red from the withheld oxygen.

I picked the asparagus up and looked at the two of them. “Really? This is what you do when you’re out at a fancy restaurant?” Neither one of them could answer, they were laughing so hard. Marc merely shook his head, waving a hand in front of his face as if that would calm him down.

“So, Hanna,” Bill Guerin asked me, leaning around the four players separating us from each other to look at me. “Tell me about your family. We haven’t heard about them from these guys.”

I put my fork down on the plate, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess I don’t mention them too much,” I admitted. “There’s not much to tell. My mom is a baker and my dad is a mechanic. They’ve been together since they were 17, married when they were 19, had my older brother when they were 22, and then me when they were 25.”

“You have a brother?” Jordan asked, surprised. “You haven’t mentioned him.”

“I don’t see him very often,” I explained. “He was married two years ago and he and his wife moved to Prince George, where she was offered a job as a University teacher. I see them once a year, at Christmas. He and I never really got along that well, anyways.”

“Does he have a name?” Max asked from beside Jordan,

“Cameron,” I answered. “His wife is Elizabeth, she’s probably the sweetest person I have ever met, and I don’t understand how they ended up together.”

Bill seemed satisfied with the answer, turning his attention across the table, where Peyton was sitting, to ask her about her family.

Peyton shifted in her seat, clearly wishing the subject of family hadn’t been brought up. “Uhm, I live with my dad and my younger sister, Jenna. I haven’t seen my mom since I was three.”

There was a long pause around the table as all of the players tried to decide how to react. After a good two minutes of incredibly tense silence, Eric Godard cleared his throat and leaned forward onto the table. “If it makes you feel better in any sense, I wish I hadn’t seen my mother since I was three.”

The entire table burst into a fit of giggles, Peyton probably laughing the hardest at the remark, more out of feeling relieved than anything else. Godard gave himself a pat on the back, literally, and returned to his plate of…something.

“You’ve got to love the attitude of us hockey players, eh, girls?” Max asked, grinning at Peyton and I, his fork in one hand and knife in the other.

“Could you not look at me like that while you’re holding your utensils? I feel like you’re going to stab my face,” Peyton muttered.

“Like I would do that when there are this many people around,” Max scoffed. “How dare you insult my intellig-intellect…how smart I am!”

“Tell me that you did not just change the sentence because intelligence is hard for you to say, please, tell me you aren’t that French!” Peyton yelled at him.

“I do not need to explain my choices to a girl.” Max argued.

I shook my head, trying to concentrate on my food and not on the two of them. My attention was taken, but not because of Peyton and Max. Marc and Jordan were having some sort of a telepathic conversation with one another, Jordan seeming to not want to agree with whatever it was Marc was asking. After a moment of eye arguing, Jordan sighed, tossing his napkin down on the table and pushing his chair out. He and Marc stood up, at the same time, before moving around the table. I was half expecting them to start fighting, waiting for Jordan to slap Marc in the face, Dukes of Hazard style, but instead, they passed one another, Jordan taking Marc’s now empty seat, and Marc sitting next to me.

I eyed him, chewing on a piece of chicken as I did so. Marc grinned at me, pulling his chair in closer to the table and simultaneously moving it a few inches closer to me. “Hi.”

I swallowed the piece of chicken in my mouth. “Hi. Why are you here?”

He made a face, pretending to be offended. “What? You ask that as if I have some sort of ulterior motive.”

“Well, you usually do,” I pointed out. “I may not have known you very long, Marc-Andre Fleury, but I have already learned that you are always up to something.”

He pursed his lips together for a few seconds before nodding. “It’s true. I’m here to tease.”

“That sounds disturbing,” I mumbled, just loud enough that he heard and chuckled. “What do you need to bother me about?”

He smirked, moving his gaze from me to Sidney, who was conveniently sitting beside Peyton, and then back to me. “It bothers you, doesn’t it?”

I sighed, “Really? This is what we’re doing? You are 26, and you’re playing the jealousy game?”

“I am not playing, I am observing,” He corrected. “I just think you should know that Sidney is under the impression that you have an eye on Jordan.”

I made a face. “I’m sorry, why would he think that?”

Marc licked his lips, looking away from me. “Max and I may have told him so.”

“Why would you do that!” I yelled, louder than I had intended as the entire table turned to look at me. I let out an embarrassed laugh, waving at the curious gazes before I snapped my attention back to Marc. “Seriously, that isn’t funny.”

“I didn’t do it because I was trying to mess with him or you,” Marc tired to assure me. “I was just trying to make sure that he did have a bit of a thing for you, but Sid is such a private guy, he wasn’t willing to tell me. So, Max said it didn’t matter because you had told him you thought Jordan was cute.”

“I knew that asshole would give me a reason not to like him. I just figured it would involve a banana or something,” I muttered.

“A banana?” Marc asked. “No, don’t explain that to me, I’m not done. Sidney was quite upset. He didn’t say much, but he did that thing with his jaw, where he clenches it? He does it whenever somebody turns over the puck on our team, or if I let in a silly goal, and he made it then. That is a clear sign that you are good to go.”

“Where are we going?” Kris asked from beside Marc.

Marc turned to look at him. “Uhm…out for dinner.”

“We’re already out for dinner,” Kris pointed out.

“Then I guess we aren’t going anywhere,” Marc said, causing Kris to frown at him and return to listening in on someone else’s conversation.

“I would also like to know where I’m going,” I confessed.
“You are going for Sidney,” Marc said. “Look, that guy has not had a real girlfriend. He’s dated two girls, and it barely lasted long enough to consider it dating. Do you know why?” He asked, not actually waiting for a reply. “It’s because those girls didn’t want to date Sidney. They wanted Sidney Crosby. They wanted the fame, the money, the perks. They didn’t want to hear about his day, his concerns, or his family. They wanted to know when the next dinner event was, next commercial was being shot.” He glanced around, making sure everyone was too caught up in their own conversations to be listening in. “You are the first real girl that has been in his life in a long time. And I already told you, there’s something about you that has made him open up a little more to you then he has to most people.”

I took the entire speech in before I opened my mouth to answer, but had the chance taken away from me when Marc looked past me. “Hey, Sid!”

Sidney pulled out the empty seat on the other side of me, which I hadn’t noticed was empty, and took a seat. “Hey. Sorry I just interrupted. I couldn’t handle listening to Peyton and Max anymore.”

“Ah, that’s okay,” Marc told him. “I was just about to leave anyways.”

I widened my eyes at Marc as he shot me a grin, pushing his chair out of the table and patting Sidney on the top of his head as he passed him, a gesture that made Sidney bend his neck backwards so he could frown up at Marc, disappointed to see he had already passed.

I pushed my lips out, looking down at my almost empty plate before I finally turned my gaze back to Sidney, embarrassed to find him smirking at me, an amused look in his eyes. “Hi.” I said,

He laughed, entertained by my clear discomfort. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you at all since I saw you after the game,” He confessed.

I thought about it for a moment before nodding. “Well, that is probably because you haven’t talked to me since then. Way to be neglectful.”

He grinned, “Sorry.” A piece of rolled up napkin flew across the table, landing in Sidney’s lap. He frowned, as did I, and we both turned to see who had thrown it.

Peyton grinned from the other end of the table, shrugging innocently as we both looked at her. She turned her head so she was no longer looking at the two of us, instead falling back into conversation with Tyler, as he was explaining something to her that involved him holding his fork.

I shook my head, turning to look at Sidney. “That was very second grade of her,” I commented.
He smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach up into his eyes. “Yeah. I guess she’s just…I don’t know.” He shrugged, lifting up the napkin and twirling it in his fingers for a moment before he placed it down on the table, looking back up at me. “So, two more days.”

I nodded. “And then it’s back to renting out skates and telling midget hockey teams where to go.”

He eyed me for a moment, letting out a big sigh before speaking again. “Did you ever got to College or anything?”

The question, for whatever reason, caught me completely off guard. Sidney seemed to notice this as he began to apologize. “I’m sorry, if that’s a touchy subject for you-”

“No, it just, I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all,” I explained. “I went to University for one semester, but it just wasn’t for me, I guess.”

He nodded. “What did you go for?”

I laughed, “Broadcast journalism.”

“I bet you were really good at that,” He said kindly. “What made you decide it wasn’t for you?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, playing with the butter knife next to my plate so I didn’t have to look him in the eye as I spoke. “Something just didn’t feel right. You know how…” I bit my lip trying to know how to explain this to him. Finally, I looked back up at him. “When did you know hockey was what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? When did it just feel like you had found your calling?”

It was him that was caught off guard this time, as he leaned away from me a bit, his eyes widening. He thought about for a second. “I remember being seven years old, playing up against this group of ten year olds, and somehow managing to carry the puck from one end of the ice to the other. I was so far from being even a decent skater back then, that my ability to skate past centre line and not fall down was just miraculous,” he explained with a soft smile. “I was all alone in the other zone, my dad watching from the stands, my friends staring with their mouths open as I went into the zone alone. The goalie was this eight year old who was only in net because his mom worked at the ice rink we played at and insisted he be on that team, so I knew that if I could line my shot up, I had a goal.” He let out a soft laugh, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “I missed the net. I missed it by about five feet, not even kidding,” He turned to look at me. “I went home that night, and I spent four hours in the basement, shooting pucks at the net my dad had set up. I did that every day, but I always hit that damn dryer, “ He said with a laugh. “I stayed down there until I could get three shots in a row into the net, straight in. Not deflecting in off of the dryer or the pole in the middle of the room, or my sister’s dollhouse. Straight in. And when I finally did that, I tried to get ten in.” He scratched the skin beneath his chin. “The feeling of pride I had after I did that, it was…it was overwhelming. I got up for hockey the next day feeling as if I could do anything. I scored two goals, I had a handful of assists, and that was the day I told my dad I was going to play in the NHL.”

I stared at him, lost in the story, lost in his passion. The way the mere memory of that day almost seemed to get Sidney a little bit choked up, it just tugged at the bottom of my heart. I took in a deep breath. “I haven’t felt that yet,” I said quietly, making Sidney look at me. “I haven’t found the thing that makes me want to try. The one thing in life that I wake up and look forward too. That I want to commit myself to, that I want to strive towards getting better at. I haven’t found it,” I admitted. “I’m just a complacent person, I guess. I’m decently happy at the Ice rink. I make decent money. I’m happy. And maybe that’s all my life will be.”

Dan Bylsma was announcing that he was heading up to pay the bill, causing most of the players to stand up and put on their coats. Sidney and I sat there, me staring at my hands and him staring at me. Finally, he placed a hand on my shoulder, which surprised me so much I jolted at his touch, and then apologized to him. He only smiled before saying, “I think you’re far too special to be one of those people who get lost in life. And I think that when you finally find where you’re supposed to be, the people who get to be there with you will feel like the luckiest people in the world.” And with that he stood up and headed over to his previous chair, grabbing his jacket and sliding it on as he had a brief conversation with Chris Kunitz.

“Hanna?” Peyton asked, shaking me from my thoughts. “You good to go?”

I nodded, standing up and grabbing my own coat from the back of my chair. Peyton and I walked next to each other out to where the guys were already standing. Peyton cleared her throat, nudging me. “So, I was just wondering,” She began, “How would you feel if I asked Sidney out?”

I stopped in mid step to look at her. “What?”

“Well, I just think he’s really nice, and he’s a good looking guy. I’d like to get to know him a little better,” She tried to explain.

“You don’t need to date him to do that,” I argued. “You could…you could text, or write letters. You could use smoke signals! No one ever uses smoke signals anymore and I, personally, think they are the most personal form of communication. It takes serious commitment to get the message out properly with smoke.”

“Hanna, calm down,” Peyton instructed. “I won’t ask him out,” She said, pursing her lips. “I won’t ask him out again, at least.” She attempted to take a step away from me but I reached out and grabbed her arm.

“What do you mean, again?”

Peyton sighed. “I asked him if he wanted to get coffee tomorrow morning with me when we were sitting together, and he agreed.”

I let go of her arm and nodded, glancing over at where Sidney was talking to Marc, who looked just about as dejected as I felt. “Well, have fun.” Was all I managed to say to her as I headed off towards the bus, ignoring her as she called out to me. Ignoring the looks of the few players who turned to glance curiously at me, and ignoring Sidney when he tried to stop me on my way to the bus.

Malone

“Morning, sunshine,” I greeted Peyton as she stumbled out of her room groggily, her hair flat on one side and completely poofed up on the other. “Sleep well?”

She sat down at the small kitchen table next to me, letting out a long yawn. “I swear, just as I would start to fall asleep, I would hear Max singing ‘A Whole New World’, and the sound was enough to stop me from sleeping.” She shuddered, “I never want to hear any of them sing again.”

I let out a small laugh. “Yeah, that was painful. Tyler wasn’t too bad.”

“He wasn’t too good, either,” Peyton mumbled, eyeing up the plate of eggs and toast in front of me. “Is there any of that left?”
I nodded my head behind me to where the frying pan was, still half full of scrambled eggs. “You’ll have to warm them up a bit, and the toast is up to you.” She nodded, standing up and staggering into the kitchen, her body still drunk with fatigue.

The Karaoke night had lasted longer than any of us had guessed it would. As soon as Staal started with the Disney songs, it was all down hill. Peyton and I mainly sat and watched, unsure of whether the sight was funny or just sad, until all of us were so exhausted and sore from the hours of laughter that we called it a night.

“What are our plans for today?” Peyton asked, sitting down across from me with a plate full of eggs, stuffing a massive forkful of them into her mouth.

“Well, nothing. The guys have practice, and then interviews, and then the game. So, we can do whatever until 3:30, when we have to head down to the arena so we can catch the game,” I reminded her.

She nodded, chewing on the mouthful of eggs before speaking. “Who are they playing tonight?”

“Tampa Bay,” I answered, picking up my now empty plate and heading towards the kitchen to put it in the dishwasher. “That means a few extra studs.”

“You need to make me flashcards for all of these teams so I can appear informed,” Peyton said through a charming mouthful of eggs. “Write down the players and their numbers for me.”

I rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t matter, Peyton. The guys like you even though you know basically nothing about their careers.”

“But I want to know about it!” She argued. “I want to be able to join in on the hockey talk. Make jokes about other players in the NHL, all of that. I feel left out.”

“We hardly ever discuss hockey,” I pointed out to her as I rinsed off my plate. “They don’t want to talk about their jobs all the time.”

“Well, still. I’d like to know more, so if you could help, I’d appreciate it.” She stuffed the last of her eggs into her mouth before pointing towards the bathroom, letting me know that she was heading off to have a shower.

I walked over to grab her plate, letting out a sigh. The internal debate on whether I wanted to be a good friend and help her learn some hockey fights, or keep her in the dark about the game was happening. I put away her dishes, giving my head a shake before I headed off to my room to grab my laptop and a few pieces of paper. If Peyton was putting this much effort into impressing the guys, I might as well humour her.

----------------

“So, 91 is Steven Stamkos?” Peyton asked, flipping through the cut up pieces of paper I had made her. “And he’s only 19? That’s insane.”

I nodded, shivering as I looked down at the ice. Peyton and I were one of the first people to take their seats at Mellon Arena, and the Lightning were already out doing their skate around. Sidney had managed to get us seats that were pretty close to the ice. We were only three rows back, and behind the Penguins bench. “Yeah, he’s a pretty amazing player. My eyes are on number 12.”

Peyton shuffled through a few cards. “Ryan Malone. He used to play Pittsburgh?” She read off of the card, looking up at me.

“Yes, he did. And he is a babe. Too bad he’s married,” I sighed, watching Malone on the ice as he took a few shots at the net.

“You think the Penguins will win tonight?” Peyton asked, putting the flashcards back into her purse.

“Probably. The Lightning have 16 wins, and Pittsburgh has 28.”

“There is just so much to learn,” Peyton muttered, straightening up a bit as the Penguins came out onto the ice.

I took a sip from the coffee I had purchased before Peyton and I took to our seats, watching the players I hadn’t met yet. Max had promised that we would meet the entire team after tonight’s game, and, to be honest, I was more excited about that than the game itself. I watched Bill Guerin as he skated around with his helmet off, his salt and pepper look still working for me. Then I watched Chris Kunitz as he stretched next to Evgeni Malkin, the two of them making small talk as they watched the rest of the team skate around and shoot pucks at Marc-Andre Fleury. I was just about mesmerized by it, the way all of this was still so casual to the players. Like there wasn’t going to be twenty thousand people watching their every move, groaning at their mistakes, booing at their penalties and holding their breath with every scoring chance.

“Where’s Sidney?” Peyton asked, breaking my concentration on the players. “I don’t see him.”

I shrugged, glancing around the ice. “I have no idea. Maybe he just hasn’t come out yet.”

She pursed her lips but nodded. “Oh, there’s Jordan.” She pointed down at him, as if I could somehow not see the ogre.

Jordan skated down to where the bench was, squinting his eyes and scanning through the crowd before he spotted Peyton and I and grinned, his mouth hanging open as he waved at us, lifting his stick up and waving it carelessly, almost smoking Mike Rupp in the face as he did so. Peyton and I waved back, making him take off his glove and give an excited thumbs up to us.

Peyton smacked my arm, startling me as I was still watching Jordan and his excited antics. She nodded off towards the centre of the ice, causing me to look up and over where she was pointing.

Sidney had finally emerged, his gloves tucked under his arm as he was playing with his helmet, taking it off and adjusting the chin strap, resting against the boards as he did so. There was a group of four younger boys standing behind him, all of them in oversized Crosby jersey, staring an awe up at their hero. Sidney seemed completely oblivious as he checked over his equipment, lifting up his hockey stick and making sure the tape was the way he wanted it, before he clanked it against the ice a couple of time and put his helmet and gloves on. One of the boys tapped the glass, almost timidly, causing Sidney to just glance over his shoulder quickly before he turned completely around to smile at the kids, stopping so they could take a picture through the glass. Sidney made a motion to them, skating over towards the centre of the ice and grabbing four pucks before he skated back towards the kids and tossed the pucks over the glass, painting a giant grin on all four of their faces.


“Seriously, where did that guy come from?” I asked Peyton, shaking my head as Sidney skated back over to where the rest of the Penguins were, lining up to take shots at Fleury and Johnson as they took turns in net.

Peyton grabbed her purse, pulling out another stack of cards and shuffling through them before looking up at me. “Cole Harbour.”

I shut my eyes, shaking my head at her before I opened them again and watched the boys continue to warm up, my eyes lingering on Sidney as he laughed with Max, watching Alex Goligoski miss the net by about three feet. Sidney took a shot, a top corner slap shot that Fleury easily gloved, before skating back towards the end of the line, his head lifting up as he slowed down a bit and scanned through the crowd, smiling politely at the few girls who screamed out his name when his eyes scanned past them, before he finally found Peyton and I. He lifted up one gloved hand to wave at us, giving an out of character wink as he did so, before he skated away from the line and went off to start stretching.

I felt someone else’s eyes on me and looked back over at the net to see Marc wasn’t there, Johnson was, and Marc was leaning against the boards in the corner, his mask up and resting on his head as he held his water bottle. As soon as I looked at him, he grinned, tucking his water bottle under his arm, shaking off his gloves, and making a heart shape with his fingers.

I just sipped my coffee, ignoring Peyton’s curious look.

---------------------

“Okay, I’m definitely on the Malone board,” Peyton said as he headed down to where the guys had told us to meet them. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

“He has a wife,” I answered.

“So, no?” She joked, tugging an elastic off of her wrist and tying her straightened hair up into a ponytail. “Why are all of the good ones taken?” She asked.

“Because smart girls snatched them up when they had the chance?” I suggested.

“Those girls should be more considerate,” Peyton mumbled, letting out a sigh as we approached the Penguins change room, both of us deciding to wait outside.

It had been maybe five minutes when Kris came running out, already completely changed, and grinned at us. “Did you see my goal?”

“Yes, we did,” I assured him with a small laugh. “It was a pretty goal.”

“It was a manly goal,” He corrected. “A big, powerful, testosterone driven goal. The kind of goal that could impregnate a whole nation.”

“Okay, now that’s ridiculous,” Peyton spoke. “It could maybe get one really slutty girl pregnant, but not a whole nation. And the slutty girl would only let the goal sleep with her because the goal would lie and claim someone else made it.”


“This might be the weirdest metaphor I have ever heard,” I decided aloud.

“Hanna, you would sleep with my goal, wouldn’t you?” Kris asked.

I made a face. “Dude, really?”

He sighed, taking off his hat for a second so he scratch the top of his head before he put it back on. “Fine, my goal wasn’t the best of the game. Sidney’s was. But my goal is like his attractive best friend.”

“Please stop talking about your goal like that,” I begged. “It’s making me uncomfortable.”

Kris grinned, turning around when he heard the change room doors opening. “Sidney, you would have sex with my goal, right?”

Sidney stopped talking to his dad, who was next to him, staring at Kris with most confused expression. “Well…was your goal a girl?”

“No, but I mean, no one is judging you.” Kris replied.

“I am. I am judging you,” Troy said. “Kristopher, really? These are the things you discuss in front of two girls?”

“Well, it was either this or my jock-strap, so…”

I made a face, turning to look at Peyton and seeing that she was making the exact same one.

Sidney let out a small laugh, “On a completely different note, how did you like the game?”

“It was amazing!” Peyton yelled, startling him. “Your goal was really…scored.”

Sidney grinned, “Still learning the hockey talk?”

“I’m trying,” She admitted.

He laughed, looking at me. “What about you, Hanna? What did you think?”

“I think Ryan Malone should have never been traded,” I said. “He is such a stud. And when you checked him into the boards, I hated you a little bit.”

“That was definitely not the answer I was expecting,” He admitted, chuckling lightly.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just really into the gorgeousness of his face. Honestly, though, you were great,” I told him.

He grinned, “Thanks.”

Troy cleared his throat from behind us, causing both Sidney and I to turn and look at him. “Sorry, I was just reminding Sidney that he has to go talk to the media.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I have to go do that,” He said quietly, chewing on his lip for a second before he turned back to Peyton and I. “I’ll see you girls later?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he turned and headed down towards the media conference room.

Kris let out a small whistle, causing me to tear my eyes away from Sidney’s retreating figure and look at him as he grinned at me. “He has a nice backside, right?”

I felt my entire face flush as he laughed, smoothing down my hair. “I would like to talk to someone other than you now, thanks.”
Kris placed a hand over his heart. “Ouch, Hanna.”

“I’m with her. I’m tired of you whoring out your goal,” Peyton said.

“Fine, fine. I will go get the rest of the team and we will all head out for a celebration dinner.” Kris said, turning to head back to the room.

“Whoa, we’re all going out for dinner?” I asked. “I am not dressed for that.”

“Where do you think we’re going? To England to eat with the Queen? You look fine,” He said, waving a hand at me. “I’ll be right back. Peyton, if you need to go spray the stuff in your hair that makes my eyes burn when I stand next to you, please go do so now.”

Peyton rolled her eyes at him as he disappeared back into the room before she turned to look at me. “Does my hair look okay?”

I laughed, “It looks fine, Peyton.”

“Fine is not fantastic. I will be back.” She turned and headed off towards the bathrooms, leaving me to stand outside of the dressing room by myself.

I stood there awkwardly, watching as all of the coaches, trainers and equipment managers walked by, some of them shooting me a warm smile, most of them ignoring me. I eventually pulled out my cell phone and pretended to text on it so I didn’t have to make uncomfortable eye contact with every passing person.

“Awww, do you not do well on your own?”

I looked up, blushing slightly as I saw it was Matt Cooke standing in front me. “Well, I was juts feeling awkward.”

He laughed, “Understandable. Sid left you by yourself?”

“Peyton left me, actually. Sidney went to do interviews or something,” I corrected.

He nodded. “You know, you could have gone with him. You can just watch from the side.” I stared blankly at him and he laughed. “Come one, I’ll show you,” He said, heading off in the same direction Sidney had and checking behind him to make sure I was following.

The room was nothing like I had imagined. On TV, all you see is Sidney sitting a table with a microphone, the Penguins backdrop behind him, and you hear him answer the questions that you rarely manage to hear. In real life, the room is packed with reporters, TV cameras, microphones, cameras that are constantly sending off flashes, and newspaper journalists taking notes. I was getting stage freight from just standing at the side of the room, I couldn’t even think about being up there in front of them.

“Hanna!” Troy whisper yelled, earning my attention. He waved me over to where he and a lady stood, muttering something to one of the security guards that were eyeing me suspiciously. “This is Trina, my wife,” Troy introduced me.

I smiled, accepting the hand Trina held out to me and whispering a “nice to meet you” before I turned to look up at Sidney.

He was listening to one of reporters at the front of the room, too far away from me to hear the question. He had his head tilted to the side as he listened, a habit of his I had noticed back when he gave his first interview as part of the NHL. There was something about it that I had always found so adorable. He nodded once the question was asked and took a deep breath before answering.

“I think the key is always team work. We’ve got a lot of great players, all who could be going out and getting three or four goals a night if they wanted to, but that’s not what this team is about. We’re not here to be chauvinists, we’re here to win as a team and be there for each other, and everybody on the team knows that. And I think that’s why we have success. When one person scores a goal, we’re all celebrating. It’s a goal for all of us. That’s how I see it, and that’s how everyone here sees it. And that’s how it should be,” He explained, earning an approving nod from just about everyone in the entire room.

He answered another few questions, most of them just about how he thought Fleury’s goaltending was, before he thanked the room and headed off the stage, making his way over to where I was standing with his parents. He raised his eyebrows when he saw me. “You got tired of Tangers?”

“He left to go get the rest of the team, and then Peyton left to go fix her hair, and I was lonely, so Cooke lead me over here,” I explained. “You are a very charismatic guy, can I just tell you that?”

He let out an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, I try sometimes.” He made a small face before he looked back at me, “Does Peyton know where you are?”

I widened my eyes. “No.”

He laughed, “We should head back. Mom, dad, I’ll talk to you guys later,” He said, leaning over to kiss his mom on the cheek, making me aww at him.

“I’m sorry if that was boring for you,” Sidney apologized as we made out way out of the room and down towards the change rooms again.

“No, it was actually really cool. I’ve always wondered it’s like in there. I don’t know how you can just be fine with that, either. If I even think about being up on that platform, I would probably pass out.”

Sidney laughed, “It was pretty scary at first. Now it’s just like a part of my daily routine.”

I nodded, crossing my arms as we walked. “You’re probably the smartest person when it comes to forming an answer. I’ve never heard you say anything that could be taken as arrogance, and I’m always impressed with you. I think it’s really obvious that this is what you were meant to do.”

Sidney didn’t say anything for a moment. He just looked at me as we stopped a few feet away from where some of the team was now standing in the hall. He eventually nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he placed a hand on my shoulder, giving my arm a tiny squeeze before he let his hand fall away and moved past a few people to head back into the change room to grab his stuff.

I stood up on my toes to search for Peyton, my eyes landing on the smirking face of Marc-Andre Fleury. He held up his hands, forming a heart once more before he laughed. I pretended not to notice.

Brides Maids

“It’s cold here,” I decided, as I walked across the mall parking lot next to Jordan, the rest of the group a step ahead.

He laughed, “Says the girl from Vancouver.”

“Hey, Vancouver is only cold for half of the year,” I argued. “We just have winter and summer. There’s no in between phase.”

Jordan shook his head. “I don’t see how that would make it less cold, but okay.”

“Is it a good idea for some of the Pittsburgh Penguins to be hanging out at the mall?” I asked, speeding up a bit so I was with the rest of the group, leaving Jordan to mutter behind us all.

“Well, it’s fine for us,” Marc told me, reaching up to straighten out the toque he was wearing. “I mean, Sid will be attacked for a little bit, but Pittsburgh fans don’t care for him as much as most do.” Peyton frowned when this statement was made. “That’s weird. He’s the captain of their hockey team, but they care about him less than others?”


“They don’t’ care about him less,” Tyler corrected, startling me since I had forgotten he was there, “It’s just that they see him all the time, so it’s not as big of a deal for them to see him.”

“Don’t let that fool you,” Max cut in, “He’ll still be mauled. Expect to hear many underage girls screaming, “Oh mah Gawd! Sidney your soooo dreamy!’” He squealed, raising his voice up so high that it almost cracked as he spoke.

“I like how you talk about me as if I’m not standing three feet away from you,” Sidney spoke, causing both Max and I to look at him with blank stares. He sighed, waving a hand through the air, “Sorry, just ignore me,” he mumbled.

“Anyways,” Max continued, as if Sidney had never said anything, “It will be fun either way.” He lifted up an arm, making a motion as if he were about to place it around my shoulders, but I stopped him.

“I’m sorry, you’re not allowed to show me signs of affection until you’ve bought me dinner. And since I don’t want you to do that, it won’t happen,” I explained.

Max scoffed, “Right, I fly you out to Pittsburgh, pay for your hotel and arrange for a ride to your hotel, and I can’t even show a friendly gesture?!” He shook his head. “Women.”

“Technically,” Sidney called, turning around so he was walking backwards and facing Max and I, “I paid to fly her and Peyton out, booked a hotel and had my dad pick them up from the airport and drive them to their hotel.,” He held up both of his hands, “I’m just saying.”

Max rolled his eyes, making me laugh.

“This mall is a little bit different than the Gilford Mall,” Peyton decided as she looked around. “I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“I’ve never had Jack In The Box,” I said, causing all six players to turn around and stare at me. “We don’t have them in Canada. Shouldn’t you know that? You’re all Canadian.”

“We’ve been Americanized,” Marc admitted with a grin. “Well, I guess we know where we’re heading first,” He said, nodding over towards the Jack In The Box.

“They have the most amazing burgers,” Jordan told me, walking backwards towards the tiny Jack in the Box in the centre of the food court so he could talk to me. “Seriously, food will never be the same for you.”

“He’s lying,” Sidney informed me. “KFC Chicken Bowls are better.”

“I’ve never had one of those, either,” I informed him.

Sidney’s mouth fell open. “What? How could you consider yourself a human without having ever tried a Chicken Bowl or Jack in The Box?” He shook his head. “I’m actually a little bit sad for you.”

I had to laugh, stopping to stare up at the menu board. “Wow, a lot of options.”

“I’m ordering for you,” Jordan said, stepping in front of me so the menu board was blocked. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Just bison,” I answered, earning a quizzical look from him. “That was a joke. I actually have no allergies.”

“Good, we know you won’t die now. Go pick a table,” He instructed, pointing off towards the tables and nodding his head. “Sidney can go with you.”

“What if Sidney wants to order something?” I asked.

“Then he can order something. What are you, his mother?” Jordan made a face, turning around to look back up at the menu board.

“I don’t want anything from there,” Sidney assured me, leading me off towards a few empty tables before he began to push them together and make room for everyone. “I’ll get a Chicken Bowl later.”

“Can you wait an hour? I figure after an hour I can eat one, too.” I explained.

He stared at me for a moment before nodding, “Your dedication to food impresses me.”

I merely grinned.

------------------------------------

“I swear to God, if you buy that I am putting you on a plane and flying you back to Vancouver and saying horrible things about you in interviews!” Jordan yelled at Peyton.

Peyton let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “Are you kidding? It’s a pair of pants.”

“It’s a pair of pants with ‘Juicy’ written across the top. That is begging for people to throw pennies and disrespect at you,” He argued.

“Hanna, help me out here,” Peyton said, looking at me.
“I frowned. “I’m sorry, but I’m with Staal. I hate Juicy pants.”

“Ha, Juicy pants, that’s what they called me in College,” Max said.

“You didn’t go to college,” Sidney reminded him.

“I didn’t go to college for classes, is what you mean,” Max corrected.

Sidney shook his head. “That’s just stupid.”

“I wasn’t actually a sleazy guy,” Max said, turning to look at Peyton and I. “I swear. I’m a pretty wholesome guy.”

“Not according to the girlfriend forum,” Marc said, causing all of us to turn and face him. He cleared his throat, “Not that I check those sometimes and write nice things about myself.”

“I knew it! I knew when I read the comment about how nice your teeth were that you lurked!” Max yelled, pointing at him.

“So…you read them, too?” Jordan asked, laughing.

“Do you all read them?” I asked. “You can just admit it, I won’t judge you.”

“I don’t,” Sidney said. “But that’s just because I’m scared of the internet.”

I laughed, turning my attention back to the rack of clothes in front of me. “When do you guys play?”

“Tomorrow,” Sidney answered, stretching his arms out and letting out a small yawn. “So we’ll all be checking in early tonight so we’re ready for morning practice. If you two want to go out on your own, that’s cool.”

“Hanna and I aren’t the go out type,” Peyton informed him, having placed the pants back on the rack. “We’re more the sit at home and eat donuts kind of girls.”

“Ah, the rare breed,” He joked. “I’m not a go out, either. I go to a club with the guys maybe once every two months, but I usually only last an hour.”

“Me too,” Peyton agreed. “Who knew I’d have so much in common with Sidney Crosby?”

He smiled, turning to look over at the rest of the guys and checking his watch.

“Do you want to head out soon?” I asked him, catching the worried look on his face.

“No, I’m just…” He trailed off, his eyes landing on something behind me.

I turned, seeing a group of four teens, one of them a boy in a Crosby jersey, all staring with their mouths open at Sidney. I turned to look at him again and nodded, “I see. You were wondering how long you’d gone unnoticed.”

He gave me a tiny smile. “Yeah. Sorry, I have to go say to them,” He apologized, brushing past Peyton and I and making his way over to the group.

“How does he not go crazy?” I asked aloud.

“He’s a special kind of guy,” Max answered, surprising me. “He was made to be this icon. If he wasn’t as humble and aware as he is, no one would respect him. But he gets it, and that’s why he’s okay.”

Peyton made a face. “That made no sense to me. It sounded like you just left out chunks of that explanation.”

“That’s okay,” He said, still looking at me. “Hanna gets it. Right?”

I let out an awkward laugh. “Actually, I do.”

Max only grinned. “Alright, girls. Hurry up with your shopping. Us boys have others plans.”

Peyton gave me a look. “What’s going on with you, Hanna?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just observant?”

Peyton shrugged as well, “Maybe,” she mumbled, sounding unconvinced.

----------------------------

“What are these?” Peyton asked, peering at the envelope Tyler had handed her.

He laughed, “Open the envelope and see.”

She tore the top of the envelope off, looking into it and then grinning. “Tickets to the game?”

“Tickets and passes,” Sidney corrected. “We figured you could watch the game from the Press box.”

“I’d rather be in the stands,” I admitted, earning a look from the boys. “I’m sorry, that sounded ungrateful. Thank you for going through that trouble.”
Sidney laughed, “No, it’s fine. We play again the day before you guys leave, so I’ll get you seats in the stands.”

“Aren’t all the games this month sold out?” I asked.

“Yes, but I’m kind of a big deal out here, so I can pull some strings,” He reminded me, smirking.

The statement caught me off guard, but I laughed once the brief shock had passed, making him chuckle along with me. “Well, I appreciate it,” I repeated.

He nodded, his attention moving over to Jordan and Max, who had somewhere in the day acquired a Karaoke machine and were setting it up in Peyton and I’s hotel living room. “Oh, this is going to either be painful or funny.”

“Hopefully both,” I said, moving over to where everyone else was.

Marc was standing behind the couch, watching as Jordan, Max and Peyton tried to hook the machine up. Tyler had abandoned us to meet his girlfriend, who had flown in for the week, and I had no idea where Kris was. Marc took a sip from the glass of milk he had in his hand and, without looking at me, spoke, “He likes you.”

I frowned, “Who?”

He laughed, “Sidney. He doesn’t embrace people as eagerly as he has to you. He puts up walls, and it’s impossible to get through them without him taking them down.”

I smirked, “I think he’s just being nice. And we talk about ridiculous things, so I think it’s easier for him.”

Marc laughed. “Oh, Hanna. So naive.”

I opened my mouth but shut it quickly as Sidney walked into the room, looking over at Max and Jordan with a laugh. “Guys, the TV isn’t plugged in.”

“Well, shit!” Jordan yelled, throwing down the cords in his hand. “If I had known that, this would have been so much easier.”

“Wow, your lives.” Peyton said, standing up from her spot on the floor and moving to stand next to Sidney, muttering something to him that made him laugh.

“And you see that,” Marc spoke, catching my attention again, “That look you have right now? That is the look of someone with a crush.”

“What is this, tenth grade?” I asked. “I just don’t trust Peyton around boys. She didn’t know who Sidney was until the night you guys met her. She’d never even watched hockey before, so it bothers me that she’s all over him as if she has any idea what his job is like.”

Marc smirked at me, nodding his head. “You’re right, there are no feelings at all between the two of you. He is not already smitten with you and you are not jealous of Peyton.” He shrugged. “I must just be mistaken because I’m French.”

“What about the French?” Max yelled, leaning back so he could look up at the two of us.

“They have very memorable chins, sometimes,” I answered, making Max laugh.

“You see,” Marc said, subtly nodding towards Sidney, “He has the same look you did a second ago.” He grinned at me. “I want to be your brides maid.”

“Do you mean the best man?” I asked.

“No. I mean the prettiest girl next to you,” He responded. “Something strapless, preferably. I have great shoulders.”

“You can’t be my-I’m not getting married, shut up!” I hollered, a little louder than I had intended, and smacked his arm.

Marc laughed, offering no explanation to the curious looks we had received before he moved away from me and over to Max and Jordan.

I sighed, shaking my head to rid the image of Marc in a strapless purple dress from my head. I glanced up, catching Sidney’s eye and causing him to shoot me a small smile before he returned his attention to the Karaoke machine.

Mr. Crosby

This one goes out to all the Troy Lovers.

“How much hairspray did you use?” I asked Peyton as we stared at the luggage carrier, waiting to see her suitcase. “I can taste it. I think my taste buds are fixed in place.”

“I hardly used any,” Peyton argued. “You’re in an airport, you’re probably inhaling someone’s leftover sneeze.”

I made a face. “Oh, that makes me feel much better.”

“I see my bag,” Peyton yelped, leaping forward to hop over the suitcase someone had set down in front of her so she could grab the handle of her own suitcase, tugging it off of the belt with a great deal of struggle before she dragged it back over to me.

“You see, this is why I only bring carry on luggage. If you had done the same, we could have already found whoever it is that’s picking us up,” I told her, watching as she straightened out her jacket, as it had twisted in her struggle with the suitcase.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re so superior in travelling. But I will look fantastic for the three days we’re here,” She pointed out with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes. “Are you ready now?” I didn’t wait for a response as I slung the straps of my duffle bag over my shoulder and headed off down the airport, coming around a corner and spotting a row of people holding up signs. I let my eyes read all of them before spotting the one that read “HANNA AND TRAFFIC VIOLATION”.

“Really, that’s what they made it say?” Peyton whined. “I liked it better when I was just referred to as ‘friend’.”

I let out a small laugh. “What did you expect, really?”

“Well, I thought Sidney was arranging the ride, so I assumed he would be more considerate.”

I shrugged, “I guess he has a side to him we didn’t see in the two days we knew him,” I joked, walking over to the man with the sign and introducing myself.

“I guess he must,” Peyton mumbled, eyeing the sign before she looked up at the man holding it. “You didn’t have anything to do with this, did you?”

The man grinned and let out a small laugh, a laugh that caught both Peyton and I off guard and caused me to take a step back and look him over, only earning another chuckle from him. He stuck out a hand, letting the sign fall to his side. “I’m Troy.”

I grinned, “Oh, you’re Sidney’s dad! That explains the grin.”
Peyton was still making a face. “I’m still unimpressed by the sign.”

“Yes, that’s what the boys figured,” Troy said, reaching out to tug my duffle bag off of my shoulder and slinging it over his own shoulder. “Can I take you suitcase?”

Peyton eyed him for a second before shrugging and handing it off to him. “So, you’re our driver?”

Troy laughed, “Well, not really. I mean, I’m driving you to your hotel, but that’s about it. I think the guys have the rest of your time here covered.”

“I’m so excited,” I began, following Troy as he lead Peyton and I through the airport and in the direction of the doors. “The only time I’ve ventured outside of Canada was to go to Disneyland when I was eight.”

“Well, that sounds like it was a pretty good trip,” Troy told me. “Sidney’s mom and I took his sister, Taylor, down to Disneyland a few years ago, but Sidney’s never been.”

Peyton and I both exchanged a surprised expression as Troy pointed out his white SUV for Peyton and I to see. “He’s never been to Disneyland?”

Troy let out a small laugh. “No, Sidney was always busy with hockey, there was no time for him to be a normal kid, I guess.” He put Peyton and I’s luggage into the back of the vehicle before seeing the look on my face. “Oh, don’t worry. I can promise you that if you had asked six year old Sidney if he’d give up a week of hockey to go on some rides, he would have said no. Hockey has been that boy’s life since he was two. There was no room for anything else.”

I nodded, thanking him as he unlocked the doors for Peyton and I and we hopped in, Peyton taking the front and me taking a seat in the middle row. Peyton and Troy immediately fell into conversation, Peyton asking about different sights and also the occasional hockey question, and Troy answering as well as throwing in the occasional old man joke.

I just stared out the window, slightly bothered still by that sentence Troy had told me earlier; “There was no time for him to be a normal kid.” For some reason, that sentence was weighing down on me a lot more than I thought it would.
-----------------------

“Dude, you could fit a football team in here,” Peyton observed as she pushed open the door to the hotel that had been booked for us.

“Don’t you mean hockey team?” I corrected, tugging both my bag and Peyton’s suitcase into the room before looking up and feeling my eyes widen. “Wow, you weren’t kidding.”

“We have a kitchen!” Peyton yelled, clapping her hands together in approval. “Now, if only I could cook.”

“Why would you cook on vacation? We have room service,” I reminded her.

Peyton shrugged. “I can’t believe they went through all this trouble.” She ran her hand along the back of the unnecessary white couch in the room before turning to look at me. “I guess we made quite the impression.”

I rolled my eyes, peering around the many corners of the large room, relieved to see two bedrooms door far apart from each other. “I’m sure the guys just wanted to make sure we were comfortable. I can guarantee that everyone else who comes to visit them gets the same treatment.”

Peyton muttered something under her breath as she headed off towards where the bedrooms were. “Do you care about having a window in your room?”

I looked up at her with a shrug, walking over to where my duffle bag was sitting by the door still. “I’d prefer no window. I can’t sleep with light in the room.”

Peyton grinned, placing her hand on the doorknob to one of the rooms. “Great. I’m, assuming this one has a giant window since the whole side of this room is basically a window.”

I nodded, looking behind me where the other room was and heading over to it, turning back around briefly to see Peyton was still standing outside of the room. “You aren’t going to go into the room and make sure it’s the one you want?”

“No, I think we should both go in the room at the same time. You know, then we can both be surprised,” She explained.

I raised my eyebrows up at her. “Okay. That seems very lame to me, but if it will keep you from crying, then I’ll do it.”

Peyton nodded, a grin appearing on her face. “Aright,” She paused, clearing her voice and then continuing, only much louder, “Count of three. One-”

I frowned, placing my hand on the doorknob to my room. “Why are you yelling?”

Peyton ignored me, “Two, Three, open the door!”

I pushed my door open, turning to look at and just about falling backwards when Max, Jordan and Sidney all jumped at me screaming, making me stumble backwards before I burst into a fit of laughter. “I hate all of you!”

Peyton ran over, laughing already. “Max texted me while we were on the plane and said to make sure you took that room,” She explained, pointing at the door.

I wiped my eyes free of the tears of laughter that were filling them and shook my head, looking up at the three laughing boys. “You are so lucky I have great bladder control, or this would be a very awkward situation for you.”

Max grinned, “There is no such thing as awkward when a typical day for you involves naked men walking around.”

Jordan made a face, turning to look at Max. “Where do you work? Puerto Rico?”

“Why would Puerto Rico be full of naked men?” Peyton asked.

“Because it’s hot there. Obviously.” He replied, making a scoffing sound and pointing to her as he looked at Sidney.

Sidney only shook his head, turning to look at me. “So, how was my dad? Did he tell you a lot of really embarrassing stories about me?”

“No, he was really nice,” I assured Sidney. “He only had great things to say about you. As do most people, I’ve noticed.”

Sidney gave a tiny smile, his cheeks flushing for a brief moment. “Yeah,” he said, reaching his hand up to scratch the top of his head, “Apparently I’ve got a rep as a nice guy. I’ll have to swear on TV or something, try to break it.”

I laughed, “I think it would take more than that. Maybe we could find some kids and you could spit on one of them or something.”

“That could work. Or I could steal their bicycle. Something classy,” He joked.

I laughed, causing Sidney to let out a small chuckle as well, before I noticed that Max, Jordan and Peyton were all staring at me with this bemused look on their faces. I raised an eyebrow, “Yes?”

Jordan shrugged, still smirking. “Nothing. We’re just glad to see,” He said, reaching out to pat my shoulder. “Are you guys good to grab some food, or do you want to change first?”

“I have to fix my hair,” Peyton said, reaching up to feel her hair with one of her hands. “I think it went kind of flat on the plane.”

“Just don’t use hairspray,” Max pleaded. “I think I’ve inhaled enough of it to stop my lungs from expanding. I might suffocate.”
“I hardly used any hairspray,” She argued, heading off towards her bag.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m good to go, I think. I’m way too lazy to dig through my bag and try to find my makeup anyways.”

“And that is why we like you more,” Jordan said. “Well…we like you more right now. When the rest of the guys are here and you dedicate your time to Cookie, we might like you less.”

“Oh man, Matt Cooke!” I yelled, startling poor Sidney who was standing next to me. “Now I need to put on some makeup.”

“He’s married,” Sidney reminded me with a laugh.

I looked up at him, already crouching down next to my bag. “How does that make him less attractive?”

Sidney shrugged, letting out another chuckle as I finally found my makeup bag and skipped off towards the bathroom.

A Box

I stared over at the arena doors, my chin resting in my hand as Peyton chattered on to me about something. I felt her smack my arm, causing me to jump back in alarm and look at her.

“They’re not coming here, Hanna,” She reminded me with a shake of her head. “They’re in Colorado now, remember? Remember how they left four days ago?”

I sighed, blowing my hair away from my face. “I know, it’s just that, well, I don’t know. I still have a hard time believing that any of it actually happened, you know? I mean, we went to science world with 6 of the Pittsburgh Penguins. Matt Cooke threw gum at my face. I still think I dreamt it half the time.”

Peyton rolled her eyes, bending down to grab my purse as she began to dig through it, raising protests from me. After a few seconds she stood back up, handing me something. I cautiously took it from her hands, looking down and recognizing the tiny square as the picture Jordan, Sidney and I had taken. Sidney grabbing his hair, Jordan yelling something at the camera and me looking completely bewildered. I’d spent a lot of time looking at that picture in the past few days. It was still hard to believe that one minute I was bowling with all 6 of them, and the next I was letting Max take pictures of all of us together before they said their goodbyes and headed into their hotel.

“Hey, look on the Brightside,” Peyton tried to suggest, “In another month and a half, Jordan, Flower and Sidney will all be back for the Olympics. I’m sure Max will come down with them, since they’re his buds, and it will be like a mini-reunion,” She said, trying to cheer me up.

I gave her a half smile. “Yeah, except we have no way into the Olympics, they’ll be surrounded by hundreds of thousands of people and I doubt they’ll even remember us.”

Peyton frowned, “Come on, Hanna. The guys spent two full days with us. You had Jordan Staal sitting on your lap in a photo booth! You’re not as forgettable as you seem to think you are.”

“I feel like we’re in a really bad movie when you talk to me like that,” I told her, laughing.

Peyton was distracted by the group of techs walking through the giant doors, asking where to start setting up for the concert taking place at the arena that night. I took the moment to sneak off for my break, walking into the back break room and letting out a sigh as I sat down. There was only a few other people in the break room, meaning that they had control over the one tiny TV set up on one of the spare chairs that my boss had brought in a few months ago, just in case we were working during a really important hockey game.

I warmed up my pasta that I had for lunch and sat down, alone, at the table farthest from where the three guys in the lunch room were. I stabbed my fork into a few of the noodles and frowned at the pasta. The truth was, I wasn’t even that hungry. I was just so sick of Peyton bringing up the fact that the guys weren’t here anymore that I had to get away, even if it meant taking my break two hours into my eight hour shift.

I heard a chorus of laughter from the three guys were sitting, earning my attention for a brief moment as I glanced up at them, my eyes scanning towards the TV for a split second before I looked back down at my lunch and took a bite. I had only half chewed the pasta when my head shot back up again so I could see the TV, almost choking on my mouth full of food. I abandoned my plate, practically leaping out of my seat to land in the vacant chair at the table the guys were at. I gave them an awkward smile, “Hi. I’m just a big fan.”

The one kid looked from me to the TV before back to me and frowning. “You’re a fan of Max Talbot?”

“You’re not?” I questioned, scoffing at the eye roll he shot me. “I will have you know that he is not only fashionable, but also a fantastic bowler.”

“I would be more impressed if he played hockey a little better,” One of the others at the table quipped.

I opened my mouth with the intent of launching into a vicious attack on this boys mother in a desperate attempt to defend Talbot’s talent, but I was distracted by Sidney popping up on the TV screen, his hair sticking up in a few odd places as he had clearly just taken his helmet off. His whole face was still glistening with sweat, and as he listened to the questions he was being asked his chest heaved up and down while he tried to catch his breath. I wasn’t even listening to the questions, or his eventual answer, as I merely stared at the TV.

“So creepy,” the guy next to me mumbled, half laughing when I simply turned my head to look at him before turning and looking back at the TV.

I snapped out of my gaze and turned to send a glare at the kids way. “Don’t judge me.” I glanced back at the TV, just to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, and was disappointed to see that Sidney’s interview portion was already finished and they had moved on to an interview with Brent Seabrook from the Chicago Black Hawks. “Okay, you can have your man time back,” I mumbled, standing up from the table and moving back to where my almost untouched pasta sat, taking me seat once more and letting out a sigh.
---------------

“What the heck is that?!” I asked loudly, startling Peyton as she hadn’t noticed me walking out from the break room.

“It’s a box,” She said matter-of-factly. “What did you think it was? A cat?”

“I mean, what’s in it? Who’s it for? When did it get here?”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh, right. How did I not see that that’s what you were really asking?” She put down the folder she had in her hands and pushed the box along the counter to me. “It got here about two minutes after you snuck off into the break room, it’s addressed to both of us and I don’t know what’s in it because I haven’t opened it yet.”

I stared at the box for a moment, looking at the postage on it. It had no return address, which made me even more curious then I was to begin with. I studied it for another moment, as if looking at it would somehow let me know what was in it. I finally turned to look at Peyton, seeing the way she was smirking at me. “Can I open it?” She nodded, turning her attention back to phones.

I grabbed a pair of scissors, using the blades to slice the tape holding the box shut open and then carelessly tossed them to the floor. I pried the flaps of the box open and peered in, disappointed to see that the contents were still hidden by piles of Styrofoam. I grabbed the trash can and dragged it over, grabbing handfuls of the macaroni shapes Styrofoam and tossing them into the trash can. After a good ten handfuls, I finally spotted something. I reached in and pulled out the contents of the box, grinning as soon as I saw what it was.

Peyton peered over, noticing that there was two, and let out a small laugh. “Of course those assholes send us their jersey’s.”

I grinned, looking at the two jerseys. “Well, would you rather be a Staal or a Talbot?” I laughed, “I don’t know why I’m even asking,” I mumbled, handing her the Staal jersey.
I checked back into the box and was surprised to find another small box, as well as a piece of paper. I simply picked the box up and dumped it out, watching the paper float down onto the floor. “That didn’t work out like I thought it would.”

Peyton let out a small laugh, leaning down to pick up the piece of paper and clearing her throat before she began reading out loud. “Dear Hanna and friend,” She stopped, rolling her eyes. “Well, I guess we know that the nice ones weren’t involved in writing this letter.”

I laughed, “Oh, come on. If they’re willing to go out of their way to insult you it probably means they were a fan of you.”

Peyton shrugged, returning her attention to the letter. “Just wanted to thank you guys for taking time out of your non-existent lives to show us around Vancouver. Tangers is still talking about the lollipops at that Candy shop, and Staalsy has framed the photos he, Hanna and Sid took because he loved them so much. We’ve got out fingers crossed that you girls will show up at the Olympics somehow so we can see you again. If you ever end up in Pittsburgh, stop to see a game and hunt us down. We’ll spend our few free hours showing you all of the wonders out here.

Take care,

Maxime, Jordan, Sidney, Kristopher, Tyler and Marc-Andre.” Peyton sighed, “Well, that was kind of sweet.”

I smiled, taking the letter from her hands and scanning over it once more. “I think it’s an incredibly nice gesture. I mean, how many hockey players would take the time too-”

“Oh my God!” Peyton interrupted.

I looked at her, seeing her staring down at the floor. “What? Did you break something?”

She looked up at me and then pointed down at the ground, forcing me to glance down as well and repeat her outburst. “Oh my God.”

Peyton leaned down to pick the two tickets that neither one of us had noticed fall from the box. They were paper clipped together with a tiny note attached, which Peyton took and read aloud. “You didn’t really think I’d make you pay for your own tickets to get over here, did you? Call this number when you’ve finally gotten it.” She grinned, looking back up at me. “And guess which one of them went to all the trouble to buy our plane tickets?”

I took the two tickets from her, shaking my head. “First class seats. Wow, Bylsma goes all the way.”

Peyton frowned. “You think Dan Bylsma did this?”

“Well, he went through all the trouble of giving us the team credit card, renting a van and sending us a basket full of delicious muffins afterwards, so I just assumed…” I explained, shrugging afterwards.

Peyton smirked at me. “Well, that’s very assuming of you. And it makes sense,” She agreed, picking up the box and beginning to break it down. “But it was Sidney who went through all of that trouble.” She picked up the now broken down cardboard and sent me a knowing look as she began to head off towards recycling. “I’ll leave you to do the calling.”

I watched her walk off for a second before glancing down at the paper she had left behind on the counter with a phone number scrawled across it. I blew my bangs off of my forehead and scratched the back of my neck before letting out a small chuckle, “You are quite the charmer, Mr. Crosby,” I muttered, picking up the phone and dialling in the number.

That Sounds Like A Traffic Violation

I let out a yawn as I let my body fall to lean against the van. Peyton was sitting in the van already with the heater turned up. I was almost completely frozen, the tip of my nose felt like it was made of ice and my hands were so cold it hurt to straighten my fingers. But I was so fascinated by the interaction between the guys and their fans.

The day before we had been smart about where to go and when. We’d hit the mall at 1:00pm and left before 3:00, which was when all of the highschoolers would be out. Peyton and I went into Fat Burger and ordered dinner, bringing it out to the guys so that they could eat in peace.

Today, Peyton and I were both so tired from running around Vancouver until it was almost one in the morning that we hadn’t even thought about the timing of things. We had agreed to meet this morning at the same place at 10am, and then we were going to head off to Stanley Park. The only thing Peyton and I hadn’t thought out was that today was a Preliminary day for schools, meaning all of the kids had this random Wednesday off, and the park was packed. I felt bad that the guys were now surrounded by people, but at the same time, I couldn’t stop watching them talk with the fans.

It wasn’t as much watching them be mobbed and fawned over that I was fascinated by as much as it was the way each one of them interacted that had my attention. For instance, Max Talbot was the liveliest of them all. He made jokes, commented on outfits, poked fun at the girls who had seen them earlier and went home to grab their Crosby pictures, calling them ‘Cliché’ for only owning Crosby things. He made faces in the pictures, he put on the bracelets fans made for him right away and then posed with them. He didn’t just sign his name in an autograph, he always wrote something to accompany it.

Jordan Staal was just all over the place. He smiled in pictures and politely thanked everyone who told him they loved him, or that he was their favourite player on the team. Despite his outgoing and mildly offensive personality off of the ice, he only showed a tiny part of this side when a fan made a comment like, “How distracting is it to be on the same team as all these hunks?” Or, “How bad does Cooke smell in real life?”

Kris Letang was quiet. He smiled and said thank you, scribbled his name out on whatever they had asked him to sign and tried to answer questions with less than three words. He wasn’t the most in your face person away from all the fans, but he seemed incredibly withdrawn, almost nervous, around the fans. I was starting to think he wasn’t nearly as sure of himself as some thought.

Tyler Kennedy and Marc-Andre Fleury were about the same. They asked every fan how they were doing, grinning in pictures and scribbling out their names as fast as they could.

Then there was Sidney. Even though he was so clearly out of his comfort zone with all of these people surrounding him, he still smiled and tried to say something to every fan. There was no patience from the mob surrounding him, every one of them desperate to get his autograph before the others, and yet he didn’t even panic over it. He didn’t just smile next to the fan in a picture, he made sure to wrap an arm around their shoulder, or lean down so it actually looked like they had met and agreed to take a picture. He tried to answer every question they asked him, which wasn’t too hard since all of the guys wanted to know if he’d met a certain hockey player, and all of the girls wanted to know if he had a girlfriend, and if he didn’t, did he want one?

I waited until every person in the small mob of fans had received an autograph from every player and the guys were heading towards the van before I opened up the door and hopped inside, very aware of the way certain girls were eyeing Peyton and I like we were making a move on their man, whichever one they were pretending was their man.

“I’m so cold,” Marc said, his teeth chattering as he said so, rubbing his hands together as he climbed into the back of the van and grabbed one of the extra blankets that I hadn’t noticed were back there.

Max climbed into the van, taking a seat next to me and grinning. “Some girl proposed to me,” He said, holding up his wrist so I could see a pink bracelet he was wearing. “Apparently this solidifies our love.”

I had to laugh a little bit, grabbing his wrist so I could see the bracelet better. “Wow, that is a very pretty bracelet.”

“She took it off of her own wrist and gave it to me,” He told me, nodding his head as he looked at his wrist. “I feel so empowered.”

“Why would someone want to marry you?” Peyton asked, turning around in the drivers seat so she was facing him.

“Because I’m a stud,” Max said, glancing up at her, “Duh.”

“So, apparently I’m the second most attractive Staal,” Jordan announced as he climbed into the van next, sitting down next to Max so he one person away from me. “That chick claimed Marc was better looking than me,” He buckled his seatbelt and smoothed out his hair before making a face. “She was wrong, but she said it.”

Tyler and Kris joined Marc in the back of the van, both of them talking about which flavour of lollipop they should try first since they had apparently bought eight different flavours when they visited the candy shop. Tyler leaned forward to tap me on the shoulder, “I just wanted to apologize for the fact that Tangers and I have hardly spoken to you at all while you’ve been showing us around.”

I opened my mouth to tell him I completely understood and it was fine, but Max answered for me. “Why would she be missing you? She’s had Jordan and Sidney all day. That makes for one happy girl.”

I felt my cheeks heat up, making Max giggle and Tyler shake his head.

Sidney finally sat down in the passenger seat next to Peyton and turned around to smile apologetically at the rest of us. “Sorry about that. There was this three year old kid in my jersey and I had to go say hi to him.”

Peyton reached over to pat his thigh, an action that seemed to completely catch him off guard. “You’re such a sweet guy, Sidney,” She told him with a grin, shifting the van into drive before he’d even turned all the way back around in his seat.

Max leaned over to me, “I was wondering when one of you would start hitting on him. I have to say, I was thinking it’d be you first, but this might make it more interesting.”

I frowned at him, “Please, I am not that kind of girl,” I told him, looking forward at Sidney as he let his head rest against the window, half listening to Peyton as she told him her thoughts on last nights game, and how it was the first time she’d ever really watched hockey. “Besides, Sidney doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that appreciates a girl who throws herself at him.”

Max nodded, stretching his arms up and groaning as he did so. “Well, we will find you a man, Hanna-” he stopped, lowering his arms and frowning at me. “Hey, we don’t know your last name!”

“How unfair, you know ours,” Kris said from behind me.

I let out a small laugh, “Well, yeah, but I know that because you wear your last names on the back of your jerseys.”

“Then tell us your last name and we’ll write it across the back of your jacket,” Tyler suggested.

Marc nodded, “That seems fair to me.”

I had to roll my eyes at them. “You can not write my last name across the back of my coat. This thing cost me over a hundred dollars.”

“Why would you pay that much for a coat?” Jordan asked. “Girls and their fashion.”

I leaned around Max to look at him, “Excuse me? I believe the two people who spent the most money on clothes today were Max and Kris.”

“Hey, looking good costs money,” Max said, texting to someone on his cell phone.

“What is your last name?!” Kris asked me, leaning forward in his seat and placing both hands on his head. “I want to know so badly.”

I laughed, “It’s Ashton,” I told him.

“Hanna Ashton?” Jordan said it out loud. “That’s pretty bad ass.”

“What’s your last name, Peyton?” Tyler called.

Peyton looked at him in the rear view mirror before letting her eyes fall back the road. “Parker.”

“Peyton Parker? That sounds like a traffic violation,” Jordan laughed.

“Didn’t your brother name his son Parker?” Tyler asked.

It was my turn to laugh. “Parker Staal? Like, Park or Stall? Did he do that on purpose?”

Jordan sighed, “Sadly, no. They really liked the name.”

“That is too bad,” Peyton said from the front of the van. “For the kid. He better be awesome.”

“Of course he’ll be awesome, he’s a Stall,” Jordan pointed out.

“Hey, I didn’t finish my sentence!” Max interrupted, turning to look at me again. “We will find you a man, Hanna Ashton.”

I made a face. “Do I really give off this scent of desperation? What makes you think I need a man? What if I have a wonderful boyfriend waiting for me?”

Max snorted, literally snorted, “Right, because a boyfriend would be totally fine with you parading around Vancouver with a group of hormonally ridden hockey players for two days, and he would not once call to check up on you,” He let out a laugh. “You’re a hoot.”

“Do you need a man, Peyton?” Jordan asked. “I don’t know why I’m asking, you’re such a bitch, there’s no way you have a man.”

Peyton glared at him in the rear view mirror. “I will have you know that I had a serious boyfriend for three years, and I was just as big a bitch then as I am now.”

I nodded, “It’s true. I think she actually might have been meaner,” I whispered. “And why do you think Peyton and I need men? You’ve known us for one day."

“Hanna, we can sense these things,” Jordan told me. “Trust me, you name your type and we will call everyone we know who fits that.”

“Oh, so you’re assuming I want a hockey player?” I asked him.

Every single one of the guys turned their attention to me as that sentence left my mouth, all of them gaping at me as if I had just said the most offensive thing in the entire world. Tyler finally broke the silence as he leaned forward to stick his head in between Max and I. “Why wouldn’t you want a hockey player?” He asked, his face serious.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want a hockey player, I just-” I stopped, rubbing my forehead and letting out a small groan. “I just wouldn’t date a guy simply because he’s a hockey player, that’s all I meant.”

“Oh, so you have standards?” Max asked, shaking his head. “Snob.”

“I like the guys that fight,” Peyton called from the front. “Like Bieska.”

“She means Bieksa,” I corrected.

Jordan made a face. “Really? Out of all the NHL players, Kevin Bieksa is the one you pick?”

“Well, I wanted to stick with someone on the Canucks,” Peyton explained.

“I’m pretty sure he’s married,” Marc said from the back of the van.

“Hang on, I’m still trying to get this Bieksa thing,” Jordan said. “You saw all of the Canucks, and Kevin Bieksa is the one that caught your attention? I mean, did you see Mason Raymond? I’m a totally straight dude, but that guy is a cutie.”

“I know!” I agreed. “And Alex Edler?”

“Ryan Kesler,” Tyler added. “He’s a babe.”

“This whole conversation is so many different levels of weird,” Peyton decided, laughing. “How about you guys don’t try and find Hanna and us men, and we won’t make fun of you guys for whatever dumb things you’ve done.”

Max rolled his eyes, “Fine.” He turned to look at me. “Although, I have a friend who I think you would love. Now, he doesn’t speak a lot of English, and he’s kind of funny looking, and he has a girlfriend,” he held up both of his hands, “But I think we could work around all of that.”

I laughed, “Are you trying to set me up with Evgeni Malkin?”

“Whoa, girls knows her players,” Kris muttered from behind me.

“I really like that I get to spend two days with some of the Pittsburgh Penguins and all they want to do is find me a man,” I said aloud to myself with a small chuckle. “That says a lot about me, when it’s been a day and a half and I’ve already seemed to lonely you’re willing to ruin Malkin’s relationship.”

“You don’t seem desperate,” Sidney said, reminding me that he was there since he had been so quiet this whole time, “Max just likes to fix things that don’t need fixing.”

“Just because I tried to teach you how to do your hair and used Vaseline instead of gel, once, does not mean I always ruin things.” Max defended.

Sidney turned around just to send him a look before he turned back around in his seat.

I felt the van come to a stop, causing me to glance around and check out where we were. “Are we at a bowling alley?”

“Hell yes, we’re at a bowling alley,” Peyton said, shutting the van off and unbuckling her seatbelt. “Is this cool, guys?”
“Do you have uniforms for us to wear?” Jordan asked, pulling open the van door.

Peyton raised her eyebrows at him. “No.”

He sighed, “Well, then I guess it’s okay. But it could have been magic.” He hopped out of the van, causing the rest of us to follow suit.

“I have never been ten pin bowling,” I admitted to the guys as we laced up our rented shoes.

“Me either,” Tyler said. “It should be interesting.”

“Alright, I split up the teams,” Peyton said as she came back from the front desk. “Hanna and I are on opposite teams.”

“Good, she hates you,” Max said, giving me a head nod when I turned to look at him in confusion. “It’s okay, I can tell these things.”

I glanced up as the two screens lit up with the list of teams;
Peyton, Tyler, Sidney, Marc
Hanna, Max, Jordan, Kris

“Oh, we are so winning this,” Tyler said, giving me an apologetic smile.

“Why do I have to go first?” I half asked, half whined.

“Because I’m a bitch,” Peyton reminded me, already holding a bowling ball in her hands. “Now, I don’t mean to alarm you, but I did use to be in a bowling league,” She reminded me, taking a step with the ball and bringing her hand back, but somehow losing her grip and dropping the ball behind her, sending it slowly towards where the rest of her team sat.

I laughed, picking up my own bowling ball. “I was going to ask why I’ve never seen any bowling trophies, but I think I’ve already gotten my answer.” I stared down at where all ten pins were waiting at the end of the lane, chewing on my lip.

“Come on, Hanna. You can do it!” Kris called out to me, making me laugh slightly.

I slowly brought my hand back, trying not to drop the surprisingly heavy bowling ball, before swinging my arm forward and letting the ball go, trying to keep it centred. I watched as it made it’s way down the lane on a slight angle, managing to hit the very last pin on the right side before it disappeared.

“Hey, you still get two more tries,” Max reminded me when I turned around pouting.

I watched Peyton finally send her bowling ball hurling down the lane, seeing it smash into the centre pin and take down 8 of it’s friends.

“Psshht, Hanna can do that,” Jordan said, motioning for me to come over. “Look, you throw crooked. So stand a little more to the left than you did before. It’ll centre your throw.”

I nodded, walking back over to the lane and picking up another ball, following his instructions. I watched as the ball took off down the lane, his time much closer to the centre. It collided with the pin right next to the centre pin, and yet somehow, took down all the remaining pins.

“Dude, you got a strike!” Max yelled, jumping up and clapping. “Take that team Loser.”

“Team loser?” Sidney asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“I would come up with something offensive, but you’d just cry about it,” Max retorted.

The rest of us laughed lightly, but I couldn’t help but notice the fact that, even though he laughed, too, Sidney clearly didn’t find it that funny.

I took a seat on our bench, back to back with Sidney, and turned so I was sitting sideway, “Hey,” I said, causing him to turn around and look at me. “You know that people don’t actually think you’re a cry baby, right?”

He sighed, “Well, some certainly do,” He corrected me. “But I deserve it. I was too quick to complain in my first year or two, but I try not to now,” He shrugged, turning to watch Tyler’s attempt at bowling before looking back at me. “it’s just another misconception people have. I can deal with that.”

I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that,” I decided, making him laugh slightly. “I mean, come on! You’re 22, and Kris Drapper is still whining about you not shaking hands with Lidstrom, with I think is ridiculous because Lidstrom left the ice before you had come over, so I feel it’s his fault.”

Sidney grinned, letting out a small laugh. “Well, I appreciate that, Hanna.” He moved his attention away from me when Tyler sat down and then turned to smile apologetically. “It’s my turn. Wish me luck,” He joked, grinning as he stood back up.

I turned around in my seat to meet Max’s smirking face. I frowned, “Get that idea out of your head.”

He laughed, “What idea?” He asked innocently, winking at me as he stood up to take his turn. “I just think it’s nice for him to have someone to talk to. Someone who actually wants to get to know him,” Max said. He picked up a bowling ball and glanced over at Sidney as he threw his bowling ball straight down the centre, knocking all ten pins down at once, and then turned to grin at me once more. “The fact that you’re a girl is just a bonus for him.”

I rolled my eyes at Max’s comment, high fiving Sidney when he sat back down. “Impressive, Crosby. I guess you’re good at everything,” I joked.

He smirked, shrugging his left shoulder up. “What can I say? Some people just have it.”

Peyton moved from her seat to the one next to Sidney, glancing back and forth between the two of us. “So, how sad are the two of you going to be when you have to say your goodbye’s in two hours?”

I frowned, having completely forgotten about the fact that guys were supposed to back at their hotel by eleven and it’s was almost nine already. “Yeah, that’ll be sad,” I agreed. “I’m going to miss all of you guys.”

Sidney laughed, “Yeah, this was good for us,” he agreed, looking over at Peyton as well. “It actually felt like a couple of days off for us. We really appreciate it.”

Peyton nodded, holding his gaze for an extra couple of seconds before she stood back up. “It’s my turn again,” she pointed at me, “Meaning it’s yours, too.”

I grinned, standing up from my seat and heading back over to where the bowling balls were. I made sure to glance up at the screen and take a mental picture of my name on the same list as Jordan Staal, Max Talbot and Kris Letang’s. I was determined to make sure the last two hours I had with these guys were spent making sure they remembered me as much as I’d remember them, even if I knew deep down that that was impossible.

Let's Go To The Mall

"I need to sit down,” I practically panted, collapsing on one of the stiff wooden benches randomly located in the mall.

“Are you kidding me?” Peyton asked, stopping to look back at me. “It’s only been an hour.”

“It’s only been an hour?” I repeated, groaning and slumping down on the bench a little more. “I feel like I’ve been walking around for days.”

“Hey, you aren’t carrying anyone’s bags,” Max reminded me, lifting up his hands to show off the four bags he was lugging around.

I eyed the bags and then looked back up at him. “You’re carrying those because they’re full of crap you bought.”

Max frowned, putting his arms back down, “True. But that doesn’t make them any lighter.”

I shook my head, turning to look at Peyton again. “Look, you guys can keep shopping. I’ll be here. If I want to find you, I’ll call you.”

It didn’t take any more convincing. Peyton nodded, “Okay. So, you guys want to hit the candy store?” She didn’t wait for a reply as she turned back around and headed off in the direction of “Tammy’s Tasty Treats,” a name that I had always found a little uncomfortable.

“I don’t want to shop anymore,” Jordan whined, sitting down next to me and watching as Max and Kris headed off with Peyton. “Seriously, who brings hockey players to the mall?” He asked, making an apologetic face afterwards and looking at me, “Sorry. I forgot you had a say in this, too.”

I laughed, “I didn’t really have a say. Peyton’s just keeping me around right now to ask questions about hockey so she can try and start a conversation with Sidney.”

“Does she know I like things other than hockey?”

I squeaked, looking up to see Sidney grinning down at me. “I did not know you were there.”

“Sorry,” He apologized. “Staal and I figured we’d stay back, since neither one of us is into this whole shopping thing.”

“I don’t mind shopping,” Jordan disagreed, “I just don’t want to hear Talbot ask me how he looks in jeans one more time.”

“It is a little disturbing, his infatuation with his own image,” I agreed.

“He’s kidding when he does stuff like that,” Sidney assured me, frowning afterwards, “I think.”

Jordan opened his mouth to add his own thoughts into the conversation but stopped, his eyes widening as he spotted something across the mall. “Oh my God, do you have some toonies?”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Uhm…I have a couple, why?”

He grinned, leaning around me to look at Sidney. “Dude, photo booth.”

Sidney seemed completely confused by the statement, but he soon glanced forwards where Jordan’s attention had been caught before. “Oh, wow, you literally mean photo booth,” he said with a laugh. “There’s no way either one of us will fit in there. Those booths are made for very small people.”

Jordan gave a disappointed look to Sidney before he looked back at me. “Okay, you and I will take embarrassing pictures and Crosby will sit out here and get mobbed by underage girls, 40 year old men and Canuck fans who hate him.”

I grinned, “Sounds like a plan,” I stood up, turning to look down at Sidney’s terrified face. “You really should watch the Canuck fans. We hate everybody except our own team. It’s really unfortunate.”

He glanced over his shoulder cautiously, eyeing up a group of twenty something year old guys, two of them wearing a Canucks baseball hat. “You know what, I should come with you guys and just make sure that no one…does stuff that’s…bad.”

Jordan laughed. “Wow, Sid. Way to be a man. Come on, Hanna.”I grabbed my purse and headed off towards the tiny booth behind Jordan, feeling my eyes widen when I saw the one tiny, tiny stool in the booth. “Okay, I’m not sitting on anyone’s lap, so you can take these pictures solo.”

Jordan gasped, “What? No way. You can’t take a picture by yourself in a photo booth.”“

This guy did,” Sidney said, pointing to one of the demonstration pictures stuck on the outside of the booth which showed a man smiling, all by himself, inside of the booth. “Look at what a good time he’s having.”

I nodded, leaning in to look at the picture. “See, you could be as happy as this guy is.”

Jordan stomped his foot. “Guys! Come on!” He turned to look at me, “I’ll sit in your lap, if that makes you feel less awkward,” he turned his gaze to Sidney, “And I’ll…I’ll help you with your hair.”

Sidney’s right hand shot up to his hair immediately, “What’s wrong with my hair?”Jordan and I both exchanged a look before he answered, “Nothing, I just thought you’d like a change.” He pulled open the curtain to the booth all the way, having to duck way down to step inside of the booth. “I don’t even know how this shit works.”

“Wait, shouldn’t I have gone in first, since you’re sitting on me?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. Well, come on in,” he said, waving a hand to me.

I sighed, debating on how badly I wanted these stupid pictures. “Well…okay, but I want you to be aware of how weird this whole thing is for me.”

“Right, because having some random chick sit on my lap is a daily occurrence for me,” Jordan said, rolling his eyes, “What do you think I am, a slut?”

“Well, I don’t really know you,” I reminded him. “And you’re already trying to get to me sit in your lap and photograph it.”

Sidney laughed, “You do seem like a little bit of a creep, Staalsy.”

“Well excuse me for living,” Jordan said, “Hanna, get your butt in here. And Sidney, leave yours out. It’s alarmingly large.”

“I’m so uncomfortable,” I mumbled, letting out a yelp as Sidney gave me a small push to knock me into the booth, making Jordan laugh.

I sat down on the small stool, letting out a groan as Jordan sat down on my lap, not even trying to keep any of his weight off of me. “Come on, Sid. Squeeze yourself in here,” Jordan instructed, giggling as Sidney gingerly took a step into the booth, trying to figure out where the heck he could put his other foot.

“So, do you know how this works?” Sidney asked, managing to step into the booth and pull the curtain shut. “It’s different than the normal ones.”

“Yeah, this one is high-tech,” Jordan agreed. He looked down at me. “Are you being silent because your really uncomfortable, or because I weigh so much that you can’t breathe?”

I took in a deep, shaky breath, “Both.”

He nodded, looking back at all of the buttons in the booth. “Okay, I think we need to put the money in first,” he decided. “Hanna, hand me your purse.”

“You’re not actually using her money for this, are you?” Sidney asked, almost laughing. “I have a few toonies, use my money.”

“Sidney, you do enough for the fans. It’s time they paid you back,” Jordan decided, digging though my wallet to grab the two toonies it would cost to take the picture. “Okay, so I’m thinking we push this button,” he mumbled, leaning forward so that I couldn’t see around him. “Or maybe it’s this one.”

“No, it’s definitely got to be this one,” I heard Sidney say.

I used one of my hands to push Jordan over a little bit so I could see the panel. “Oh, I think it’s this one.” I yelled, leaning forward and pushing the giant green button just as both Sidney and Jordan leaned in to see what I was pointing at.

The immediate flash from the square all three of us were peering into caused us to yelp and lean back, just as the second flash went off.“Oh my God, what’s happening?!” Jordan yelled covering his face as the third flash went off.

“I was so close to that stupid box, I think the power of that flash singed my hair,” Sidney complained, holding the front of his hair with both hands as the last flash went off.

I was laughing so hard I couldn’t even breathe, and having Jordan Staal sitting on me wasn’t helping my diaphragm to take in any air. I just sat there, with one hockey player on my lap and another one kneeling beside me holding his hair, letting my entire body vibrate with laughter.

“Okay, I think Hanna can’t breathe,” Sidney said, stepping outside of the booth. “Come on, we don’t want you to die.”

Jordan got off of me, slipping out of the booth and turning around to laugh. “You’re whole face is so red,” He observed.

“I can’t breathe,” I wheezed, staying in the booth until I had managed a few deep breaths. “That was the greatest thing ever,” I decided.

“How long until the pictures are ready?” Jordan asked, leaning down and peering upwards at the slot where the pictures were printed from.

“It says three minutes,” Sidney read off the information board. “So…three minutes.”

“I can’t believe I was just in a photo booth with Sidney Crosby and Jordan Staal,” I muttered, causing both of them to turn and smirk at me. “I’m sorry, but I’m still in shock over the fact that you two were even at the arena, let alone that I’m spending an entire day with you.”

“Two days,” Jordan corrected, “Unless you’re planning to ditch us tomorrow.” He frowned, looking to see if the pictures were printed yet and then sighing. “Well, I have to take a piss, so if you two could make sure that no one steals those pictures,” he pointed at Sidney and I before turning and jogging over to where the washroom were.

I leaned against the photo booth, looking over at Sidney as he eyed all of the groups of people walking past, “Is it ever annoying to have people constantly mobbing you?” I asked him.

Sidney chewed on his bottom lip for a second before turning his head to look at me. “Yes and no. I mean, sometimes I wouldn’t mind having a little more privacy,” he admitted, waving politely to a group of guys who walked by and recognized him. “But, at the same time, I’m so thankful that people care at all about me. I mean, I know I’m not very captivating in interviews, and I’m a kind of funny looking dude,” he chuckled, “but, for whatever reason, people still care. And if there’s one thing I would ever want more than hockey, it’s to be an example. These people give me that.”

I let out a small sigh, smirking lightly as I shook my head. “You are some kind of guy, Sidney.”

He grinned, “I think you’ve said that to me before.”

“Well, I meant it,” I assured him. “And if it makes any difference, I don’t think you’re boring.”

He nodded, the tiniest shadow of a smile showing. “It does.” He glanced behind him and grinned, “The pictures are done.”

I rubbed my hands together anxiously, watching as Sidney picked them up and took a look at them, laughing. “What a gong show!” He handed the pictures to me.

I let my eyes roam over the four frames, laughing at how ridiculous all four of them. The first one with all three of us so close to the camera that part of Sidney’s face was cut off, and all of three of us had a curious look on our face. Then the second with all three of our head snapped back and a look of alarm on our faces. Jordan was covering his face in the third picture, Sidney’s entire face hidden by his giant smile, and me with my head leaning back, clearly laughing, followed by Jordan and I both glaring at the camera and Sidney staring at it with his hands holding onto his hair.“Oh man, if this got out on the internet,” I thought aloud.

Sidney snatched them from my hands, eyeing me. “If these do-”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I promised.

“Thank you,” He said, sighing.

“Oh, it’s not for you, it’s because I look ridiculous in these pictures,” I informed him. “Here comes Jordan.”

Jordan ran over, clapping when he saw that Sidney had the pictures. “Oh, I’m so excited.” He looked over them, nodding with his lower lip sticking out. “We are a good looking bunch.” He looked up at Sidney and I. “How do we split these up?”

“Oh, I don’t want any,” I told him. “You guys can keep them.”

“What?!” Both Sidney and Jordan yelled. “You can’t not want one of these,” Jordan argued. “How will you remember this magical day?”

“You really think I’m going to forget about the time Jordan Staal sat on my lap in a photo booth while Sidney Crosby got his hair singed by the camera flash?”

There was a pause as the two exchanged a look before Jordan answered, “Yes.”

I laughed, “Fine. I want the last one.”Jordan nodded, carefully ripping the last picture off of the strip and handing it to me. “There you go. Now, Sid and I will argue over who gets which one later. For now, let’s go get smoothies or something.”

“Of course, the 6 foot 4 tough guy wants a smoothie,” I mumbled, following after him.

“Smoothies are delicious, and also very manly,” Sidney told me, falling into step with me. “I mean, they kill these cute little fruits jut get something tasty. It’s a very manly process if you think about it.”

I smiled, “You’re a smoothie fan. That is something I did not know about you.”

He shrugged casually, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He raised his eyebrows at me before taking an extra step to walk ahead of me with Jordan.