Melting On Ice

"It's a good thing you're so good at hockey." I easily dribbled the soccer-ball around him.
"Because you suck at soccer." I swiftly kicked the ball into his empty net.

I smiled mockingly at my childhood best friend as he rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You're no Mia Hamm either."

I went to retrieve the ball from the net and jogged up to where he was standing. "Can we go see your apartment now?" After being teased by his teammates numerous times about still living with his parents, Patrick decided to buy his own apartment. Which he refused to let me see. Which was annoying the crap out of me.

"Well it depends," he said, grabbing the ball from my hands. "How badly do you want to see it?"

"Really badly." I attempted to grab the soccer ball back but he held it up out of my reach. Even though he was one of the shortest people on the Chicago Blackhawks, he was still a full 5 inches taller then me. Which he used to his advantage whenever possible.

"Then I think we'll chill here for a little longer."

I pushed him playfully. "Ugh! You're such a jerk." He laughed at me before dropping the ball down and kicking it around me. I stubbornly crossed my arms. "I'm not playing with you, you meanie."

He rolled his eyes at my childlike behavior. "After practice, I promise."

"Fine." I mumbled, as I ran ahead to get the ball from him.

"OH MY GOD!!! IT'S PATRICK KANE!!!" We both froze and looked at each other.

"On second thought," He said, coming and leading me by the arm towards his car. "Maybe we should just go now."

I stopped in my tracks. "Nah, I changed my mind. I think I want to whip your butt one more time." I started to dribble the ball back down the field as I caught a glimpse of the girls running towards us. They were fully decked out in red and black, face paint and all. Byfuglien was really going to enjoy this story.

"Oh I didn't realize you enjoyed being attacked by fan girls." He looked at me skeptically.

"Yeah didn't I tell you?" I attempted to head the ball, but missed. "I was considering taking it up as my new hobby."

"Emma." He said sternly.

"Patrick." I mocked him. We stared at each other for a moment before I gave in. "Fine." I sighed. "But you have to admit. It would have been slightly entertaining."

"Yeah for you." He started walking at a quicker pace as the girls approached closer. "You wouldn't be the one getting mauled."

I opened the door to the passenger seat and threw the soccer ball into the back. We drove off just in time to watch the girls finally reach the field. I looked out the window at the beautiful Chicago skyline where the sunset danced along the tops of the buildings. I saw Patrick reach for the radio as we stopped in traffic, figuring that we would be here for a while.

"I love this song!" He turned up the radio as Chelsea Dagger blasted through the speakers. I watched him as he sang along to the words. "What?" he asked, referring to my staring.

"Nothing." I shrugged. "I was just thinking how interesting it is that you know all of the words, considering you don't hear this song that often." I smiled at him. Chelsea Dagger was the Blackhawks goal song.

His face contorted in fake pain as he placed his hand over his heart. "Ouch. That hurts Em. Right here." He patted his chest.

I laughed and rolled my eyes as I looked out the window. We had both been born and raised in Buffalo, New York, and had been friends for as long as I could remember. My parents had died in a car crash when I was at a young age and I would always sneak out of my foster parents house to go visit his. We always did everything together. I even sometimes practiced hockey with him, even though I was nowhere as close to as good as he was. It amazed me though, that at 20 and 21 years old we were still doing everything together.

I opened the trunk to help Patrick get his stuff out of the back when we pulled up to the United Center. I preferred practices here as opposed to Johnny's Icehouse because the ones at the United Center were closed to the public. Here it was just me and the team.
I ran to the locker room to grab my skates before Patrick started to change. I walked out onto the arena and sat down on one of the bleachers to see half the team already on the ice.

As I started to lace up my skates, Patrick Sharp yelled to me, "What do you think that your doing Emma?" He smiled. "No girls allowed on the ice during practice!"

"Then what are you doing out there Sharp?" I retorted, gaining a few chuckles from the team. I slid off my skates anyway. Even after all these years I hadn't learned how to properly lace them because Patrick had always done it for me.

I came back out in a few minutes, now in my Blackhawks hoodie, and sat back down on the bleacher to watch the practice. This had been an exciting thing for me to experience at first, but after a while it just got old.

I carefully laid down on the bleacher. It had been almost a hour and a half. "Are you guys almost done?" I yelled to Jonathan Toews, the young captain of the team.

"You don't have to stay you know." He said, as he passed me on his tenth lap around the rink.

"Yes I do." I groaned. "Patrick's my ride."

"It's so weird you call him Patrick." Adam Burish said as he passed me, only on his fifth lap.

"Why?" I sat up. "It's weird you call him Kaner." I heard Patrick chuckle from under one of the helmets.

"No it's not" about 5 members of the team said in unison.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, just how much more are you guys gonna do?"

I saw Jon shrug slightly. "Depends, we could be here all night."

"Ugh!" I placed my head in my hands.

"Alright bring it in boys!" I heard the team panting as they all huddled around Toews. He gave them a quick evaluation of practice followed by what the coach had to say then they continued their way down to the locker room. The entire team gave me high fives as they passed. Jonathan was the last one off the ice, just like after every practice.

"Call me when you guys are decent in there." I said as he passed.

He flashed a quick smile at me. "You got it." I watched as the door swung closed behind him. I didn't think that people gave him enough credit. He was nice, just quiet.

After what seemed like hours, Patrick came out fully dressed. "Ready to go?"

"Way ready." I pulled his arm and dragged him out of the arena. "You think you could've taken a little bit longer?"

"Sorry," he said sarcastically. I waved goodbye to the boys before hopping into his car.

"See ya later love birds!" Kris Versteeg yelled to me before I closed the door. I rolled my eyes, but blushed. Everyone on the team joked about how Patrick and I have probably had this secret love for the past couple of years but haven't told anyone. It really annoyed me to no end.

"Are we going to your apartment now?" I asked, as he started up the engine.

He sighed, trying to annoy me. "If we have to." We only drove a couple blocks before pulling into the parking garage of a nice looking building. I was surprised to see Toews car pull up next to ours.

"Hey I didn't know that you were coming." I walked around to meet him. He looked so much smaller without all of the hockey equipment on.

"You think that I would miss Kaner moving out and becoming a man?" Patrick rolled his eyes as Jon smirked at him. We walked over to the elevator that was in the back corner of the parking garage, as I told Jon about today's soccer victory against Patrick.

"Hey," Patrick said, as he pushed the elevator button. "It was a close game."

"Sure it was." I patted him lightly on the back as he rolled his eyes. When we finally reached his floor, he turned the key in the lock as slowly as possible.

"Come on already!" I said, pushing him in the back.

"Alright, alright." He pushed open the door and led us inside.

"Oh. My. God." The place was amazing. The entire back wall was a window that showed a perfect view of the Chicago skyline. The walls were painted black with red accents and his hockey awards were hung all over. The furniture followed along the same lines with black couches and chairs and red pillows.

"What happens if you get traded?" Tazer joked, examining the room.

I sat down on the couch to see the giant flat screen TV that hung on the opposite wall. "This place is awesome!" Patrick laughed as he sat down next to me on the couch, watching Jon look at his book self filled with mostly little league hockey trophies.

"Dude really?" We both turned to see Jon holding up a miniature figurine of Patrick.

"What? I think it's pretty cool." Jon rolled his eyes and continued to look.

Patrick turned to look at me. "Listen I hate to kick you out so soon but..."

"Wait what?" I looked between him and Jon.

"Kaner and I have some manly stuff to talk about."

I rolled my eyes. "Please, like what?"

"Plus you have to get back to your dorm." Patrick said, standing up and walking to the door. I made a pouty face at him. "I know you hate when I'm right." Fake sympathy filled his voice.

"Luckily it doesn't happen that often." I smirked at him.

"Bye Em." Jon yelled to me.

"Bye Tazer!" I walked out hesitantly. Patrick followed me so he could drive me back to the Depaul campus. I noticed how he turned up the radio so he didn't have to listen to me complain the whole ride there.

"Goodnight Emma." He said when we arrived. "Don't look at me like that." He said. "I'm coming to your game tomorrow remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. Night Patrick" I mumbled, walking away.

"Goodnight Emma." He whispered again, before he drove off into the night.