She Makes Me Wanna

“Goal scored by Penguins number thirty-sex, Emily Vance! This is her second goal of the night” the announcer said, and the Panthers fans booed. However, I was on top of the world. It was the third period, and with twenty seven and a half seconds left to go, we had been tied 2-2 with the Panthers. However, a freakish rebound and a good snapshot later, the score was 3-2 Penguins and I had gotten my second goal of the night. Evgeni had taken the other goal, and spirits were high on the Penguins bench. Dan Bylsma shouted at me to keep it up, and the guys all held out their hands for a fist bump as I skated by the bench.

“Go back to Jersey slut!” a fan screamed as I skated by, and something inside of me snapped. I spun around and faced the fan, who was very obviously drunk.

“Hey buddy, the next one is for you!” I shouted before getting ready for the faceoff. Sidney won, and I immediately grabbed the puck. The only benefit to being so small for me was that I was very, very fast and I could weave between the bigger guys without a problem. I raced down center ice, determination roaring through my veins, and vengeance driving me even further. I bore down on the net, and the goaltender had no hope. In a last ditch effort, he dove for the puck, but I popped it up and over his pads, and the light went off behind him. It was a silent goal light of course, but I screamed like I had gotten a hat trick at home. The guys on the bench flipped out, and I found myself being dog-piled by Sidney, Tanger, Lovejoy, and Adams. Just as I thought I was safe, Flower dove onto the dog pile as well. Everyone was screaming, and I slowly managed to squeeze my way out from beneath the pile of guys. Just as I emerged, I saw something fall to the ice. I reached out and grabbed it. It was a little pink Penguins baseball hat. I pulled myself to my knees, and looking up I saw a little girl in a pink Penguins jersey standing three rows up. She was screaming like crazy, and waved at me. I waved back before skating to the bench and handing the cap to Dan.

“Keep that safe for me, eh?” I asked, and he nodded, smiling.

“PARTY ROCK!” we all screamed as we began to dance. We were now on a two game winning streak, and the energy in the locker room was overwhelming. I felt a little bad for the zebra who walked in to hand me the puck, which had been wrapped in white stick tape along the outside. In big black letters it said EMILY VANCE 1ST NHL HAT TRICK 19:54 VS FLA PANTHERS-CLEMMENSON.

“Thank you!” I said as the official smiled, nodded, and hurried out of the locker room. I placed the puck in the little hat, which had found its way onto the shelf of my stall, and smiled broadly. Things were certainly going my way.

Two Days Later-Pittsburgh

We arrived home at the airport after a 3-0 road trip, and were immediately swamped by the media. I was amazed at how much attention the reporters were paying to me, since I was a rookie.

“Miss Vance, how do you feel about your first NHL hat trick?” one of them asked, shoving a microphone in my face.

“I uh…I feel great about it. I mean, I just came off of a nasty concussion and to make a comeback like that is really exciting,” I said with a smile.

“Do you plan on letting the home town fans throw their hats on the ice for you any time soon?” another asked.

“I certainly would hope so, but I’m taking it one game at a time,” I smiled. After a while the reporters left me to hound Sidney, and I found myself standing next to Jack and Patrick.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Patrick sighed.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Play the way you do,” he replied.

“Hey, you’ll get there,” I said.

“I’m a defenseman, I don’t think so,” he laughed, and I chuckled as well.

“Don’t say that. If you want it bad enough, you’ll get it,” I said, slapping him on the shoulder. He simply shook his head and slapped the rim of my Penguins baseball hat so that it blocked my vision. I pushed it back up and punched his shoulder lightly before Sidney called me over.

“Ready to head home?” he asked.

“You know it,” I smiled.

“That was some hat trick,” Sidney said as we walked in the door. I heaved my suitcase halfway up the stairs and nodded.

“Thanks,” I smiled, trying not to let all the praise get to my head.

“I was kind of afraid when I saw the replays on NHL.com. The look on your face was absolutely mutinous. What happened?” Sidney asked, carrying his suitcase up the stairs. I put my suitcase just inside the door of my bedroom and leaned against the wall, tucking my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

“Some guys screamed ‘go back to Jersey you slut’, so I figured I’d show him a thing or two about Jersey girls,” I shrugged, and Sidney shook his head.

“I really hate when people say things like that about you,” he muttered.

“I do too, but I just shut them up by proving to them that it wasn’t sex that got me to where I am,” I explained. Sidney nodded, a small smile forming on his face.

“And I think that is what is going to keep them quiet in the end,” he said. Within seconds, his lips were on mine, and his hands were planted firmly on my hips, pulling me into him. I slowly wrapped my arms around his shoulders, kissing him back with equal fervor, but for the first time I was having second thoughts. I broke away and took a step back, and Sidney looked panicked.

“Sid, relax. I just…I don’t know if this is really…if this is something we should be doing. We’re teammates…and roommates…and I just…I need to concentrate on my game right now,” I stammered before walking into my room and shutting the door quickly. I heard Sidney mutter a stream of curses before he kicked his suitcase and walked into his own bedroom.

“Fuck,” I sighed, flopping onto my bed and running my hands through my hair. I had no idea what I was doing.