She Makes Me Wanna

“Hey, are you ready to go?” I asked, knocking on the door of one of the five spare rooms in my house. Emily opened the door before walking back to her small suitcase, which she stared at for a moment, and then placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently.

“What?” I asked, figuring she was having trouble deciding something once again.

“I can’t decide if I want to bring this sweatshirt or not. I mean, it’s only October so I don’t know if Chicago is going to be super cold or not,” Emily said, holding up the jacket. I chuckled before taking the sweatshirt, folding it carefully, and placing it in the suitcase.

“Never hurts to bring something with Canada written on it,” I smirked. Emily rolled her eyes before shutting the suitcase and zipping it.

“I forgot that you’re Canada’s golden boy…probably shouldn’t have asked you,” she laughed before putting the suitcase next to the door. She slung a backpack over her shoulder, and I raised my eyebrows once again.

“You got a theme going on here or something?” I asked, pointing to her outfit.

“I like Hello Kitty! I’m a girl, I think I can wear some Hello Kitty stuff,” she said defensively before bumping me out of the way. A few minutes later Emily was waiting by the door anxiously, and I ran down the stairs, my suitcase in one hand and a small package in the other.

“Alright, before we go I wanted to give you this. Some of the other guys are taking care of Jack and Patrick…it’s just a plane ride tradition we want you guys in on,” I said, handing Emily the package. She looked at the pink wrapping paper and shook her head, a smile forming on her face, before tearing it off.

“Get the fuck out! A pink PSP?!” she cried, bouncing excitedly.

“We figured if we could get you the pink one it’d be funny,” I said, shrugging. Emily squealed excitedly before flinging her arms around my neck. I hugged her back, shamelessly enjoying the smell of her hair and the way it felt to hug her, before pulling myself away and clearing my throat.

“Alright, we’d better head to the airport before Dan kills me,” I said quickly, grabbing our suitcases before anything else could happen.

An hour later

Dan cornered me in the airport, right after we had gone through security. Emily, Jack, and Patrick were being harassed by Tanger and Gronk, and I had just gotten off the phone with my parents, who had called to wish me a safe flight (it was something that they always did, no matter how old I was).

“Sidney, I wanted to talk to you about roommates for away games,” he said, and I tucked my phone into my pocket.

“Sure, what’s up?” I asked.

“We’ve put Jack and Patrick in the same room, but since there are only three rookies who stayed up this year Emily doesn’t have a roommate. We were going to keep everything the same, except we were going to put Dupper in Marc-Andre’s room, and put Emily in your room if you and Dupper were okay with it. Dupper said he’s fine with it, and Marc-Andre doesn’t care as long as he gets to sleep. We just figured it’d be best to ask you because of how uh…superstitious you are,” Dan explained, and I bit my knuckle for a minute, thinking.

“Well uh…I mean, I guess that’d be fine. I mean, she’s already crashing at my place so it would be less of a shock to her and I’m used to the whole girl thing by now so…yeah, why not?” I asked, thinking about it. Dan smiled, slapped me on the shoulder, and then waved Emily over.

“Okay Vance, here’s the situation. You and Sidney are going to be roommates for the away games. Does that work for you?” he asked.

“Yeah sure, not a problem Coach. We discussed this during the summer remember? I don’t care who I room with,” she smiled, and Dan nodded.

“Alright, well I’m going to make sure the equipment is loaded before we take off,” Dan said, walking off toward the doors to the runway.

“I really can’t escape you, can I Sidney?” Emily teased.

“I guess not,” I shrugged.

The plane ride to Chicago was utter chaos. Seats were moved, things were changed, and I got freaked out. However, Marc-Andre knew better than to switch seats and stuck with his usual place next to me. Geno was now across the aisle and a row in front of me, while Cooke and Lovejoy were in front of me now. Emily, Jack, and Patrick were in the row across from me, and Aaron and Gronk were sitting behind me. Tanger was behind Emily, and Dupper was next to Tanger.

“Sidney relax, new season, new seats,” Geno said, turning around and seeing the expression on my face. I simply nodded and put in my headphones, joining the match that was being set up between Geno, Marc-Andre, Emily, Jordan, Jack, and I. Within seconds Emily had killed me three times, and Geno was coming in close second with two kills. By the end of the match I found myself shaking my head, ready to quit PSP forever.

“I swear, she is not real,” Geno said, pointing to Emily, who held up her pink PSP in victory.

“Sorry boys,” she smirked before challenging us to a rematch.

The game in Chicago started out great. Ten minutes into the second period, we were leading the Blackhawks 2-1. Morale was high, and we were having a great time on the ice despite the fact that we weren’t at home. The entire game turned tides however, with one crushing hit by Brent Seabrook. I had turned to find the puck when I heard the guys on the bench start screaming angrily. Confused, I turned around to see one of our players crumpled on the ice. My stomach turned, and I quickly skated over. The second I got closer, I could see the number 36 on the sleeve of the white jersey.

“Oh shit!” I cried, skating over. The trainers were running onto the ice, and I could hear Emily groaning in agony.

“I didn’t mean to do it! I am so sorry!” I could hear Brent pleading with Emily as he was escorted to the penalty box. The trainers waved me away, so I skated to the bench biting my lip.

“What the fuck happened?” I asked, and Tanger pointed to the huge screen above us, his face pale. The replay showed Seabrook skating hard to the boards, trying to retrieve the puck. He turned quickly, and, not seeing Emily, shouldered her directly in the head. She immediately crumpled, and I felt the blood drain from my face.

“That is not good,” I groaned, and I looked at Jack. Jack looked as if he was either going to pass out or murder the entire Chicago Blackhawks team, so I skated towards him.

“That dirty fucker…I’ll kill him,” he was muttering under his breath, and I placed a hand on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t on purpose…it was his fault, but he didn’t do it on purpose,” I muttered, despite the growing anger in my own chest. Hits to the head had taken a special meaning to me, especially because I missed two seasons with a concussion. I turned to look at Emily again and my anxiety grew.

She was being loaded onto a stretcher.