Breaking the Rules, NHL Style

Cold air rushed at me.

Ahh, where’s that cold air coming from? I rolled over, and fell, hard. I hit the cold ground. My eyes shot open. I looked around the room. I was in the garage, and it was dark.

“OKAY WHO BROUGHT ME IN THE GARAGE!” I screamed, getting up, and walking a couple steps, until I felt something sticky under my feet. “Oh my god! What is this!” I cried, running, slowly, the sticky stuff was hard to run on. “MALKIN! CROSBY! STAAL!” I cried, but heard no laughing. I took a giant hop, landing on cushiony stuff.

“You just stepped on a spiders nest,” someone whispered a super creepy tone.

“AHHHH!!!!!!!!” I cried, trying to run, but now I was stuck. “HELP! HELP! HELP!” I heard something spinning and then, something landed on my head, something big! I screamed as loud as I could.

At that moment, the lights turned on, the garage door opened, and I heard laughing. I looked down and saw that it was just cotton beneath my feet, and the thing of above me was a giant, fake, spider.

Evgeni, Jordan, Sidney, Max, Marc, Bugsy and Kris stood at the door way, laughing their pants off.

“That was not funny,” I sighed, trying to get my feet unstuck, but to no avail.

Hey, I should have some fun with them. I inwardly smirked and started my plan.

“You guys are jerks, I can’t believe you would do that,” I whispered, fake tears rolling down my cheeks, I was good at fake crying. The laughing immediately seized.
"I was so scared, and no one was helping me.” I wiped the tears from my face.

“T-tristan. Don’t cry,” Kris pleaded.

“You guys are the worst," I muttered, putting my head in my hands.

“Tristan," Marc said, I could tell he felt guilty, probably the only one though.

“Some friends you are.”

“Tristan, I’m sorry. It was only a prank, we didn’t mean to make you cry,” Max and Sidney said at the same time.

“Well I’m crying.”

“Tristan,” Jordan spoke, and then Bugsy.

“Tristan, I’m sorry, we really didn’t mean any harm,” Evgeni said quietly.

There was a moment of silence.

“You guys are... LOSERS!” I cried, sticking my tongue out at them, and then started laughing. Oh that was the best!

“YOU’RE A FREAK!” Kris screamed.

“I thought you were really mad at us,” Marc whispered.

“Hah, you guys suck!”

Strong arms swooped me up from where I was standing. I looked up to see Evgeni, but he didn’t look down at me.

“Dude, Evgeni where are you going?” I asked, but no answer. He took me up the stairs, into my room, shutting the door behind him. Evgeni sat me down on the edge of the bathtub. He started it, my feet getting wet.

“Thanks,” I said softly as Evgeni sat down back at the bathtub.

“I’m not leaving until you take a bath,” Evgeni informed me, matter-of-factly.

“I’m not taking a bath when you’re in here!” I cried, my feet were now clean and I drained the water.

“Now,” Evgeni ordered, plugging the bath tub and starting up the water again.

“Jeez, why do you want me to take a bath so bad?” I asked the boy, who’s back was turned to me.

No answer.

“Ah! Fine.”

I put some bubbles in the water and got undressed.

“You better not look," I warned.

“I won’t, trust me, who would want to?” That earned Evgeni a smack on the head as I got in the water.

“So, I take it you want to talk?” I asked.

“Yeah. But I also wanted you to get some rest, loosen up you’re muscle's. We’ve been doing a lot of exercising lately, I just don’t want you to stress out and get hurt," he said, as I stopped the water.

Ahh, that’s so sweet.

“Thanks Evgeni for thinking about me.”

“I always do," he replied. I turned around so I was resting my arms and head on the side of the tub, legs tucked under me. Evgeni looked over at my face and smiled. I smiled back.

“So, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Okay shoot,” I whispered, one of my hands dropped and Evgeni held it.

“Today we’ve got a big game,” he started.

Today was the very last game we were playing before the playoffs. We were already going to the playoffs. We were playing the Los Angles Kings, as we did last night, where we won 3-1.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” he asked, squeezing my hand and I squeezed back.

“We played them last night; I’ll be fine.”

“But today’s another day, another game. I don’t want you to get hurt, they’ve got some big hitters on that team,” Evgeni said looking at the floor.

“Hey, Ev, I won’t. I promise. I can take any hit. I can. And you know that I can. I promise nothing will happen.”

“Okay. I believe you.”

He turned around, and we were facing each other, faces inches apart.

“I-” Evgeni started, leaning in closer, his hands cupping my face.

“TRISTAN! EVGENI!”

“Ahh!” I cried, slipping a little in the tub.

“We’re going to lunch in twenty! So hurry it up!” Sidney yelled.

Evgeni and I started laughing.

“Thanks so much Evgeni, for caring for me," I whispered kissing his cheek, and laughing as his cheeks reddened.

“Hah, I can do the same to you!” he exclaimed, kissing my cheek. “SEE YOU’RE FACE IS NOW RED!” he cried.

“Hah, whatever, go! I have to take a bath.”

“Okay fine, bye.”

“Bye!” Evgeni got to the door, opening it up.

“Be careful tonight,” he whispered, before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

“I will Evgeni. I will,” I sighed.

[Pens vs. Kings]

“GENO! GENO!” I cried, we were now over our blue line, skating faster and faster down to the net. Evgeni looked up, passing the puck to me.

Here it comes.

I was moving towards the puck, as it was out of good foot out of my reach.

“FUZZ! Watch out!” Evgeni’s panicking voice made it way to my ear.

And then something hit me, was it a bus, or a truck? I wasn’t sure. All I knew now was that I was in pain.

I looked up just in time to see the body of Dustin Brown flying at me. His hands pushed my face, hard, making my helmet fall off. I did a half a flip in the air. I hit my head on the boards, and from there, it hurt, everything hurt.

Until it just stopped.

Everything was black, and the voices were muffled, and then, they were gone...

-------> evgeni ------->

“FUZZ! Watch out!” I yelled. But it was to late.

“Dustin Brown has just put a mind-blowing hit on Tristan Davis! Her helmet has flown off. Oh! Looks like she hit her head, and- is that blood? She seems to be unconscious!” the announcer screamed into the mic.

“TRISTAN!” I yelled skating over as fast as I could over to her. I didn't know what to do. Bugsy, Kris and Sergei were already surrounding her, our physical trainer, Howard Jones, was running off our bench, running to her motionless body.

Dustin Brown stood there staring dazed at her.

“Y-you!” I yelled, he turned around, almost in disbelief, staring at me. My mind stopped, and everything I knew was wrong, seemed so right. Tristan was on the ground, bleeding because of him.

I threw a punch towards Brown, hitting him in the stomach. He flinched, taking a second to react, and then threw a punch back at me, hitting my helmet off my head.

Oh I was pissed now.

I jumped at Brown, shoving off his helmet, and punching him, square in the face.

“Evgeni Malkin is now attacking Dustin Brown! And Tristan Davis seems to be out cold still. Hopefully she’ll be okay,” the announcer's voice came over the intercom once again; as I was trying to stay balanced.

A couple men were holding a stretcher, running to Tristan. Seconds later, another person jumped on my back.

“Get off!” I yelled, punching Brown in the face, and making blood run out of his nose.

“Hey!” I heard Bugsy yell, pushing the guys off of my back. I saw that it was Jack Johnson number three. The man was now busy throwing punches at Bugsy.

“Break it up!” the refs were yelling, holding me and Dustin away from each other.

“Let’s go Malkin."

The ref pulled me off the ice.

What were they doing? Throwing me of the ice? They can’t do that! Dustin was in this too, take ‘em too!

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Go, you’re done.”

I shook my head, walking off the ice, hearing the roar of the raging crowd, and Michel’s screaming voice.

I headed to the locker room, followed by Bugsy.

There was only eight minutes left in the third period, and we had been winning 4-2.

“Is she okay?” Bugsy asked as we sat down on the opposite benches in the locker room.

“SHIT!”

I pulled my jersey over my head, tearing off my gear. I hadn’t forgotten about her, but - well - I was distracted.

“What are you doing?” he asked, pulling off his jersey over his head as well.

“Seeing if she’s okay!” I was now kicking off my skates, and wiggling out of my pants. “Are you coming?” I asked, pulling a shirt over my head and putting shorts on.

“Yes. Hold on!”

Seconds later I slipped on my shoes; Bugsy and I ran out of the room.

“Where would she be?” Bugsy asked, franticly looking around the hall.

“Malkin, Malone.”

We turned around to see Ray Shero.

“Ray, where’s she at, is she okay?” I asked running up to the man.

“They got her out of her hockey gear, but she’s unconscious, and not responding. They are on the way to the hospital right now.” Ray looked worried, hands in pocket.

“BROWN!” I cried, turning and punching the wall next to me, letting my anger get the best of me. “I’m going to the hospital," I suddenly said, walking fast down the hall.

“No, you’re not.”

Feeling a tug on my sleeve, I turned around.

“Why not?” I demanded, growing angrier by the minute. They didn’t understand, they didn’t know how I felt about her.

“Evgeni, Ryan, I want you two to go back to the locker room, take a shower, pack you’re things, and wait for the team. Now, go.”

I heard a blow horn, and faint cheers.

“They just scored,” Ray said shaking his head, leading me and Bugsy back down the hallway to the locker room.

Why was Ray doing this? Tristan. What if she’s hurt worse then he thinks she is?

I stepped into the hot shower, my thoughts not wandering from Tristan. Minutes later I got out, getting dressed. I pulled a hoodie over my head. I walked into the locker room, my team now there, all in half gear, not speaking, not looking at each other. I could tell, they were all worried about Tristan.

I saw the hit, they all did. It was so mind-blowing.

I sat on the bench, head in hands, the doors opened and I heard the coaches.

“Get undressed, showered up. Now,” Michel barked orders. At once, everyone was getting undressed and into the showers.

Fifteen minutes later, our gear was packed, and we were all standing in the entry way.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting for Michel to come and tell us we could leave.

“We are all meeting at the hospital correct?” Ray asked, walking into the room. We nodded our heads.

“Go then, we’re coming too," Michel ordered.

I picked up my bag, Sidney, Jordan and I running out to my car, we had all taken it. We threw our bags in the back and jumped in the seats. I started up the car, whipping out of the parking lot, and onto the road. Heading to the closet hospital.