Practice Makes Perfect.

It was a Friday. The weather was nice, a cool seventy degrees. Nice enough to wear a tee-shirt and shorts and carry a hoodie a long. It was the first day of Summer and mom was out to work. She worked as a wedding manager or something like that. She organized all the information, like the guest list, the music, caterers and such. She worked early all the time to spend time with me at noon and all. By spending time, I mean, keeping an eye out for me.
It was six in the morning, and I was up and getting dressed. Most kids my age would sleep in, but for me, I would be wasting precious time to get away. I slipped on a pair of light blue shorts and a black tee-shirt. Putting on my converse, pulling my brown hair up into a ponytail. I grabbed my cell phone off the table and slipped it into my short's pocket. I then grabbed my house key and left the apartment.
Usually by car it would take at least five minutes to get to the arena, but walking it usually took about ten to fifteen minutes. Which I didn't mind. It felt nice to stretch out my legs and walk during the peaceful morning. The sun was peeking behind the apartments and trees, casting shadows everywhere. The traffic was light, so I was able to slip across roads and streets with out a horn blaring at me.
I made it to the arena in no time. I slipped in going through the doors and up the stairs to get to my preferred seat. No body was out on the ice yet, which was peaceful. I've had a thing for quiet rinks. You feel the emptiness, and just can't help feel relaxed. The slight coolness of the ice hit my bare arms, making me shiver so slightly. I pulled on my hoodie that was wrapped and tied around my waist. Feeling a bit more warm, I relaxed into my seat. It was six-thirty when I saw a player hit the ice. The number 87 catching my eye. The infamous kid. I chuckled lightly. My best friend from my old neighborhood adored Crosby. I on the other hand, did not. Not like he was bad or anything, I just don't hold a likeness for him.
I looked around myself, seeing a few people here and there that actually showed up this early. Not so many people get up this early. They usually wait for an afternoon practice. Looking back onto the ice, more and more players gracefully skated around on the ice. These players were heroes to me. The numbers seeming to sparkle as they went past. Giant bodies with the golden numbers 11, 71, and 9 skated by. But my favorite wasn't out yet, which slightly dampened my mood. Slightly. But all in all, I was happy. No one to bug me, no one to pull me away from happiness. This was all I wished for right now. Now if only I could be on the ice.
Sighing slightly, I continued to watch the practice. Coach Bylsma making them a few laps and putting Johnson and Fleury on each net and having the rest of the players shot on them. I watched the way they moved carefully and intently. Praying that hopefully I could be that good one day. While most kids that play hockey get to sweat and play, I had to cake make up onto my face and twirl like a pansy. I rolled my eyes in general for my mother's thoughts about me being the best figure skater in the state. Please, I would gladly injure myself slightly to get out of the skating program. Maybe I could bruise up my face real bad, and she would take me out for looking bad. I snickered at the thought. At least in hockey, that would make you look good.
I broke out of those thoughts just to find the players playing a scrimmage. I smiled. What I didn't noticed was the missing coach yelling from the bench. While watching the players with a small smile on my face, I felt a presence next to me. The body sat down next to me. Confused I turned slowly to look at the individual. But as soon as I caught who it was, my eyes bugged out and my jaw was just barely holding itself from dropping. Right there, next to me, one of THE greatest coaches was sitting next to me.
He chuckled slightly at the sight of myself. I smiled sheepishly and felt the heat rise to my face. My hand reached the back of my neck and scratched involuntarily.

" So, what brings a young girl, like you, early in the morning to watch me yell at some people?" He smiled and questioned me. I was muttering and stuttering, but nothing came out. After a few seconds of embarrassment, I said,

" Getting away." His head tilted toward the side, probably trying to get an explanation out of me. I sighed, and looked down at my lap. I toyed with the zipper of my hoodie and muttered out,

" No more hockey." He frowned at the saying I just said, and asked me,

" What do you mean by that? 'No more hockey'?" He bent down, resting his elbows on his knees and placed his chin in his palms. Still staring at me for an answer.

" That's what my mother said. She never did like hockey, like my dad did. My dad did everything it took to get me play without my mother doing anything about it. But last year it all ended." I sighed, my eyes slightly watering at the memory.

" What happened? If you don't mind me asking." he gently asked me. I shook my head, and told him,

" My dad died in a car accident. It was hard. But the hardest part was knowing what would happen later. My mom sold all of his hockey equipment, and we moved out of there quicker then you can say, 'Misconduct'," He chuckled slightly at my saying, but motioned me to continue,

" After moving, I started to secretly play behind her back. She caught on soon, and yelled at me. She then took all of my equipment and shunned hockey from me. I can't even watch anything with the work hockey on the TV! She blocked all of the channels that contain sports! I mean come on!" I yelled slightly, gaining attention from other people in the seats. I blushed and looked down at my lap again. Dan then looked back at his players, fixed his glassed that perched on his nose, and looked back at me.

" Why doesn't she allow hockey?" he asked me. I shrugged, not even myself I was able to answer,

" Something about it being a violent game with rude players. And how girls like me shouldn't play such a sport." I rolled my eyes, and scowled at my mother's words.

" Girls like you? I know plenty of girls that play hockey. Like Sidney's little sister." I nodded, acknowledging what he said.

" I know. She put me into figure skating. It's torture. I hate it so much. I'm actually considering to punch myself in the face, to get her to take me out for looking bad." I chuckled getting Dan to laugh along too. Once we calmed down, we both looked out at the ice. The boys were fooling around taking a break. It was seven-thirty. Leaving them thirty minutes to play. Suddenly a figure skated on the ice. The number catching my attention immediately. Number 58, placing his water bottle on the bench and joining his team mates to play.
Dan followed my eyes and caught on to what he attention was focused on so intently. He smiled and looked at me.

" Got a thing for a French-Canadian I see?" He teased. My faced turned a cherry tomato red very quickly, as I smiled sheepishly. He chuckled at the sight of me again. " How old are you?" he asked another question. I looked back at him and said,

" Seventeen. And for your previous question, slightly." I smiled at him. He smiled back. He check his watch. Stood up and asked for a hug. Awkwardly I stood up and gave him one.

" I'm sorry for everything you've been through. But I may have something to make it up for you." He told me, with a secretive smile playing on his face. I gave him a questioning look and asked him,

" What could that possibly be?" He smiled again and walked me towards his office. We went through the long halls and doors, and I was sitting in chair facing his desk in no time. My eyes darted at every detail in his office. Taking in everything, I drew a deep breath. He chuckled lightly, and said,

" What I mean, is that we could get you fitted into equipment here and you can practice.. free of charge." he told me with a bright smile. I was speechless. This man didn't know me. I spilled my life to this guy, who happened to be a NHL coach. This man, was offering me the best thing to life for me. My head was going nuts, but I knew what I was going to say.

" I would love you to death. But wouldn't I be a bother..." I asked stated more than asked. I really don't want to intrude on them. He furiously shook his head no.

" No, no, no. It's all good! We can even keep your stuff here. You can wake up at the same hour you do to get here so your mom doesn't suspect a thing. You can get a shower as well. You can use the guest locker room if you need. And change so like I said, your mother wont know." Happier than ever, I stood up and he did too.

" I think we have a game plan." I smiled along with Dan as we shook hands.