The Games We Play

A few weeks passed. Lacey was sitting on her couch upside down while flipping through channels on her television. Her feet were in the air and her head was resting just over the couch’s cushions, her kinesiology books scattered all over the floor. She had been attempting to study for one of her exams, but it was proving to be more difficult to concentrate than she’d imagined.

A knock came on her door and she didn’t budge. “It’s open,” she called, settling on the Bugs Bunny and Tweety Show. She made a mental note about how different everything looked upside down.

Derek poked his face in front of hers. “Should I ask?”

She shook her head.

“Alright,” Derek shrugged, sitting down properly next to her, pushing a large textbook out of the way. “How did the team do against UCLA last Monday?”

“We lost 3-1,” Lacey grumbled, the memory of the team’s embarrassing defeat running through her head. “The only goal we got was on a penalty. We were lucky that the score wasn’t 6-0.”

Derek nodded.

“How was your game against Penn State?”

“We won 1-0,” Derek commented. “I got the goal, but really late in the second half. It was a pretty intense game. Do you know what place your team is in now?”

“I think that overall, we’re in third,” she sighed, finally deciding to sit up since all the blood was rapidly rushing to her head. “We’re in pretty good shape, I’d say. Playoffs are going to be starting soon.”

“They start in two weeks, right?” Derek asked. Lacey confirmed with a nod. “Same. And you know, the Blackhawks are starting their playoffs soon, too. I think April 16th is the day everything gets started, since we’re in the west.”

“That’s this Friday,” Lacey noted. “Do you think the guys are ready?”

Derek gave an affirmative nod. “They’ll be fine. We’ve been coaching them on their footwork for three weeks, now. They’ve all improved a lot. And with the amount of time they’ve spent practicing on the ice, I’m sure they’ll be okay.”

Lacey and Derek sat there for a while watching reruns of old cartoons. The credits for that day’s episode were starting to roll when Lacey’s phone vibrated obnoxiously from its place on the coffee table.

“Who’s that?” Derek asked, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. Lacey gave him a hard shove and he fell back against the armrest of the couch before laughing to himself and sitting back up. Lacey picked up her phone and saw that she had received a text message from Jonathan. She recalled exactly how she’d managed to get his phone number, as well as the phone numbers of several other guys on the team.

“If you guys ever need any help with stretches or want to have a one-on-one lesson, both Derek and I are available. Just give us your numbers and we might be able to work something out.”

Needless to say, she had about ten new phone numbers inputted into her phone after that week’s soccer clinic. Jonathan and Patrick were the ones that always ended up texting her the most. Patrick always sent playful, fun, flirty messages, but Jonathan’s always sounded genuine, like he really wanted to get to know Lacey and how she was doing. And so, Lacey always smiled to herself when Jon texted her.

I know you said you’re not into hockey, but I got you and Derek tickets to our first game against Nashville on Friday. It’d mean a lot to the guys if you came.

“What’s up?” Derek questioned, hovering over Lacey’s shoulder. She shoved him again, but this time he was prepared and didn’t budge.

“It’s Jonathan,” she began. “He--”

“I figured it was Jonathan, you get that doofy look on your face whenever he calls or sends you a text,” Derek interrupted. When Lacey shot him a disapproving look, he defended, “Don’t even try to deny it. I know you always say that you’re going to be a single bachelorette for life and that love has no place in your heart and every other anti-stereotypical female sentiment under the sun, but let’s be real. You, Lacey Larsen, have a crush on the captain of the Blackhawks.”

Lacey narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t have a crush on him. Jon and I are friends. That’s it.”

“Oh, on nickname basis, are we?” Derek winked. “Does he call you Lace? Or better yet, do you let him call you by your middle name, Aleksandrine?”

“Shut up about my middle name,” Lacey growled. “Just because my parents decided to give me the most Danish sounding middle name in the universe it does not mean you can go announce it to everyone in Chicago. Besides, if you’d let me finish what I was going to say, Jonathan got us tickets to their first playoff game on Friday. But since you’re being a douche, I might just sell your ticket to my dad, or--”

“Lacey, don’t be cruel!” Derek whined, grabbing onto her wrists in fake desperation. “You don’t even like hockey that much! Don’t sell my ticket, I’ll be good!”

Lacey smirked and tugged her arms away. “I don’t know how Kenzie deals with you.”

“She loves me,” he stated cheekily. “As do you. Text Jonathan back and tell him we’ll be there.”

Lacey rolled her eyes but complied nonetheless. Minutes after sending the message, she got a reply from Jonathan and a new text from Patrick.

Jonathan’s read: Awesome! Can’t wait to see you there. I’ll leave the tickets under your name at the will call office.

Patrick’s read: Tazer told us that you and Derek are coming to the game on Friday! You’d better be wearing my number or nothing at all. ;)

Lacey laughed out loud and showed Derek Patrick’s message. He stifled a laugh as best he could but then couldn’t contain it any longer.

“He already saw almost all of you the first time we all met,” he chuckled, wiping a tear dramatically from the corner of his eye. “Remember that first game, Shirts VS Skins?”

“Which we won, thank God,” Lacey recalled, covering her face with her hands in fake-embarrassment. “That was just too embarrassing. It wasn’t exactly the kind of first impression I wanted to make on a bunch of young good looking professional hockey players.”

“Deal with it babe, now they’re all comin’ after you,” Derek teased. “I’ll bet that--”

“Mutter one more word about their captain and I will never let you back into this apartment,” Lacey warned.

Derek kept smirking. “Fine. My words will forever remain a mystery.”

“Good,” Lacey grinned, reaching over and grabbing a cushion before throwing it in Derek’s face. “Now, shut up. Scooby-Doo is coming on.”