Everyone Has Stories

I stood awkwardly near of my now-teammates. When I tried out for the team to go to Worlds, I had no idea that I would actually make it. I couldn’t believe my father actually supported my choice to not represent Italy.

“Trovato, your partner is Filppula.” I snapped my head up, unfamiliar with the name. It was a lot different. Everywhere I had played, after my adolescent years, it was never a big deal that I was a girl. Needless to say, it was obvious someone needed convincing, as I was being treated as an outsider right now.

Our coach began rattling off names, as a mop of blonde hair skated in front of me, to a stop, looking me up and down. He had a grim look gracing his features, before breaking out into a smile. His white teeth contrasted heavily with his tanned skin. He thrust his hand out to me, beginning the introductions.

“My name’s Valtteri, but you can call me Val. Everyone else does, except my mom. She’s pretty anal about it.” My eyes widened slightly, at the vulgarity of his words. I shook my wits about me, before sliding my hand into his.

“My name’s Anna. Just Anna.” He nodded, before we retracted our limbs. We stood around, in a comfortable silence, waiting for our coach to direct us for the practice. “What do you play?”

“Center, pretty much. I never was a fan of playing winger. You?” I turned, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t really have a set position. My father firmly believed in knowing all the areas that you can, giving you advantage into analyzing your opponent, knowing what they are looking for, and beating them at their own game.” Val grinned at me, slinging his arm around my shoulder.

“You know, when I first saw you, I thought you must be some stupid bitch who didn’t know a lick about the game. I’m glad you are more than that, to be honest. It’s going to be pretty sick, having you on the team with me!”

Smiling at the Finn, we focused our attention back on our coaches, who began to shout drills and line orders around the ice, pointing to the different starting areas.