Under the Mistletoe

While the boys were practicing, I sat up in one of the top rows of the first level. I had my feet up on the seat in front of me and my headphones in. The boys ran through their drills but with nowhere near a full effort. I could tell Coach Bylsma was getting frustrated that the players were more focused on the fact that this was their last practice before their Christmas break began, than the actual work out in front of them. Nonetheless practice ran for its scheduled hour and a half.

The final whistle blew and coach dismissed them all with an “Okay, that’s enough for today. Hope you all have a Merry Christmas and I’ll see you back on the twenty-sixth; 11:00 sharp!” The boys nodded and let out a course of “Yeah”s; only half listening to what their coach had to say. As they headed off the ice and towards the dressing room I started to walk through the rows of seats; heading down there as well.

Sidney, Kris, and Maxime Talbot were the last three to get off the ice. Sid shot me a smile and gave me a wave, while the other two mocked behind his back by blowing me a kiss. I just laughed as Sidney noticed their antics and hit them both in the back of the head. I continued to walk and soon found myself in the tunnel; entering into the main concourse of the building. I followed through the arena and eventually made my way down to the dressing rooms. Not wanting to permanently scare myself with the scenes behind those closed doors –as I have previously, much to my dismay- I knocked on the dressing room doors.

“Decent?” My voice sounded.
The door slid open to reveal only a face, “Maaaaybe.” Max winked at me.
“Ew Max.” I spoke, “Just ew.”

I shielded my eyes as I walked into the room, expecting Max was just trying to get under my skin, which he was extremely talented at. My assumptions were confirmed when –through the gaps between my fingers covering my face- I saw a towel around Max’s waist. I slowly removed my hands from my face and shoved them into my hoodie pocket.

I scanned the room for the people I was friends with. As I did so, some of the other guys on the team –generally the older ones, as they were like father figures to me- gave me warm smiles and the occasional “Merry Christmas.” After a few moments I found the small group I was looking for.

“Canadians!” I shouted as I approached the group.

Kris, Jordan and Tyler turned in unison with smiles on their faces. I walked up and stood on my tiptoes, swinging my arms around Jordan and Tyler’s shoulders. Kris shook his finger disapprovingly, that didn’t last long before he started to crack up at his own actions.

“So Tyler, are you coming over tonight too?” I asked, already aware the other two in our “group” were.
He shrugged, “Why not?”

Just then, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, “If that’s Maxime...you’re dea-”
I was cut off my a charming Nova Scotian laugh. “It’s not Max.”
“Sidney!” I squealed. The other boys shook their heads, scoffing something like ‘Young love...’ I ignored them and continued, “So Kris and I were going to go to his place before heading to mine. So did you just want to come over at, say 4:00? Or later; whatever’s good with you.”
Sidney nodded, “Yeah, that’s good with me. I should be over around four.”
“Okay!” I smiled, while he kissed my cheek before retreating over to his stall.

Kris turned around and finished putting his equipment in his bag. After double checking he had everything he threw the bag over his shoulder. “Alright, I’m all ready to go. Let’s hit the road Carrie!”

I dropped my arms from around the two hockey players on each side of me and gave them each a quick hug. “So you heard what I told Sidney, feel free to come over any time after four!” They nodded. “See you all tonight!”

As we exited the dressing room, we both called back “Merry Christmas!” to everyone and we were on our way.

Kris lived about twenty minutes away from the arena, including a fair amount of traffic due to the holiday season. His house wasn’t anything fabulous or Godly; it was midsized and had a nice homey feel to it. We walked through the doors and slipped our shoes off.

“I’m just going to put all this stuff upstairs and get ready. Make yourself at home Carrie.” Kris spoke.

He headed upstairs as I walked further into his house. We’ve been close friends ever since we met last year, so his house was almost as familiar to me as my own was.

I made my way into the living room and sat myself on the couch. I turned on the television to MTV, put my hands behind my head and leaned back. Mariah Carey’s Christmas song “All I Want for Christmas is You” was on, so I eagerly hummed along to the tune.

In what seemed to be seconds, Kris returned.

“Ugh,” He sighed, “Why do you watch all this junk?”
I turned away from the episode of “Jersey Shore,” that was presently on the screen to glare. “Kristopher, Kristopher, Kristopher. Jersey Shore is not junk.”
He scoffed as he pulled a toque over his head. I quickly turned off the TV and made my way over to the door. I zipped up my coat and put my shoes back on my feet.

“Onward!” We yelled together as we left his house before breaking into a fit of giggles.

Yeah, tonight was going to be a good night.