Nothing's Really Ever What It Seems

Sam's POV

I sit back and watch practice, loving how sitting here has me thinking about when I was younger and did this all the time. Practice ends, and I look down at the ice watching the guys when I notice Sid is gone. I take a closer look, thinking that maybe I just over looked him, but no he is indeed gone, which could mean trouble. I continue to watch the guys mess around, some of them disappearing toward the locker room when I see him standing there, an extra pair of skates in his hand

"Still remember how?" he asks with a smirk.

"Of course," I reply while standing up, the same smile reflected on my face.

"Well come on then," he says while waving his arm, telling me to come join them. I walk over to the railing, jumping over it easily and landing down by him on the walkway. "Okay," he says with a laugh, "that wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"It worked," I reply with a shrug while tip toeing out of my sneakers and reaching for the skates. He gives them to me and then quickly makes his way to the ice. I make my way to the bench, putting the skates on in lightning speed before hopping over the boards and realizing how much I'd missed this. All the guys look at me as if I'd just done something spectacular, and I just shake my head. It figures that they don't expect someone like me to like playing hockey, but I'd been doing it for fun since I was little. It was practically the only way I could hang out with my brother since it always seemed like he was playing.

I skate by Sid, grabbing his stick out of his hands. I mess around with the puck in front of me when I notice Marc is in the goal crease, but he isn't paying attention at all.

Sid's POV

I skate back over to the bench and get another stick, going back over to where she is and taking the puck from her easily.

"You're a little rusty," I add while skating a little circle around her, picking the puck up and handling it in the air a little.

"It's not my fault," she says while trying to get the puck back, but failing miserably. "Somebody always made me play goalie," she adds while placing her hands on her hips.

"Come on Sid, that wasn't very nice," Jordan adds while skating past us.

"No, it's alright," she yells toward him. "I'm the reason he's so good," she directs toward me before flashing her normal smile and taking the puck back from me and skating off right as I'm called from somewhere down the hallway, wanted to do an interview of some kind I'm sure, so I leave as I see Marc begin to talk to her.

Marc's POV

She hops onto the ice with ease, not timid at all. I know she's Canadian, but not everyone knows how to skate, and with the way she's moving and spinning, I have no doubt she's been doing it since she was little. She grabs Sid's stick and starts messing with the puck. She's no where near extraordinary at it, but she does have some moves of her own.

Sid finally leaves, everybody else sort of filing off the ice one at a time until it's just me and her. She skates over to my end of the ice and comes to a stop out in front of me.

"Come on," I say while grabbing for my helmet. "Give me your best shot."

A broad smile crosses her face before she pushes the puck out in front of her, shooting it with more force that I thought her small frame could muster, but right toward my glove side which I snag easily. I toss it out in front of me, showing she'd have to try again. She comes skating up to me, flinging ice on me while grabbing the puck and laughing while she skates away.

Normally, I would do as Sid says because not only is he my friend, he's the captain. I like it in Pittsburgh and I know that messing with him is the basically the easiest way to get a first class ticket out of here, but for some reason I can't seem to ignore her like I know I should, and as she turns back around and gives me a stare that probably means more than it should, I think she knows exactly how hard of a time I'm having trying to respect boundaries.

Sam's POV

I stare at him, wondering if he's thinking what I'm thinking or if I'm just reading into a simple stare too much. I've never been like this around anyone before, especially guys. Normally, people skills is not something I have a problem with, but for some reason every time I'm around him I'm at a loss of words, which is also something that doesn't happen often. Everybody I know would describe me as quite the chatterbox, or maybe even your typical smartass, which I must admit is true most of the time. I love getting the last word in on most situations. Not in a rude way, in a playful way, which is why I think I get along with a majority of the people I meet. But for some reason, anytime I'm around Marc, I find myself unusually quiet, which I find odd since we haven't even talked that much, but just for some reason anytime I even see him starring at me from across a room, I'm brainwashed and not thinking coherent thoughts.

Shaking my head, I think back to every lesson I'd ever learned about shooting a puck and I rear back and let it go, sending the puck flying at Marc and successfully into the back of the net on my second attempt. I shake my head at his effort level as I skate toward him. He takes his mask off and he has a guilty smile plastered on his face.

"You let that go in," I say while shaking my head at him, and even though I'm slightly mad, I still find myself smiling.

"Yeah," he admits bluntly, his signature jaw dropping smile crossing his face before putting his arm on my shoulder and directing me off the ice.