Her Feet in His Skates

Saturday comes a few days later, meaning a weekend matinee, versus the Chicago Bears. Eric and my dad pulled a few strings- both having a game tonight- and were able to make it, recording my every move for the other four boys.

Third scores a goal on a give-and-go from our other linemate, Shawn, halfway through the first, and a new teammate fresh from the JV team, David, adds to that on a wrap around.

The final score was a 5-0 shutout.

On the way home, Andrew calls; apparently Eric had FaceTimed him before the game and he watched it from Eric's phone. He congratulates me, saying that he bets twenty bucks on me scoring a goal next game. Eric and my dad jump on board immediately.

Kendall meets Third and me for a first-game-without-Carter celebration at our favorite pizza place. Even a few other teammates come and enjoy the complimentary pizza.

Right after we get home, Eric and my dad get a call. I plop onto the couch, waiting for them to return. After a few minutes I hear Eric freaking out, and when he runs into the livingroom, he begins his celly. Only, he's not on the ice so he gets a very bad rugburn during his Nail Yakupov knee slide.

My dad comes in from the backyard with a huge smile plastered on his face. "What the hell happened?" I yell over Eric's screeching.

"Eric is officially a Chicago Blackhawk!" My confused smile turns into an ecstatic one, as I jump onto my brother's back. The two bro hug and then Eric spins until I jump off before I puke. We call the other four and tell them the news.

----

My dad, being Head Coach, has six season tickets clustered next to both the tunnels that connect the benches and the locker rooms. I'm sitting at the home bench for the Blackhawks, one row in front of Kendall and Third, so I don't have to look at their coupley crap just to watch the game. A few minutes before warm-ups start, Eric's girlfriend, Caroline, picks a seat next to me.

I smile at her excitedly and she returns it with her trademarked 1000 watt smile. I always liked Caroline, and I'm glad Eric found her.

The lights drop and on come the Minnesota Wild, with Adam somewhere in that mix. It's too dark to tell who's who. After a few boos rain down, the spotlight finds and follows Chicago's starting goalie, Tim Bergling. Eric is right behind him and he fist-bumps the four of us on his way out.

After a few minutes of watching Eric, I walk over to the visitor's bench and catch Adam as he's walking into the locker room. He notices me and stops, high fiving me as he continues back into the room.

My walk back to my original seat does not go as planned when halfway back, I notice Tiffany Hall, Carter's stuck up puckslut excuse of a girlfriend.

She's another Hockey Kid, Taylor Hall's 20 year old daughter. She moved to Brampton since Alberta was too cold or some shitty excuse. It was really for her boyfriend her dad didn't know about. What? Things get around in Hockey Kid World. Anyway, she met Carter after he left. She dumped her boyfriend for him.

She notices me despite me going to the extent of putting the hood up from my Minnesota Wild hoodie underneath my dad's old jersey he wore in the 2013 Stanley Cup Parade, and she calls me over.

I keep walking and I soon hear her five inch stilettos as they hit the concrete steps. How the hell does she do that? I couldn't even walk in a straight line with those shoes.

"Sam!" I stop, and turn around, a bored look in my eyes as I put the hood down. "I just wanted to tell you one thing," she says, her tone becoming more hostile. "Stay. Away. From Carter."

She walks away before I can respond. If Carter twisted the story of last night, he is gonna have his ass handed to him. I text Third, telling him I'm getting popcorn, and he texts back a list of food he wants.

Rolling my eyes, I climb the steps, walking right past Tiffany.

Knowing that Tiffany would never voluntarily go to a hockey game without some form of "mancandy", I begin my search for Carter.

For the second time in less than a week, the way I find him is running straight into him. He looks down, holding his arms out, an obvious combination of surprise and anger on his face. I look down at his dad's vintage Zach-Parise-freshly-traded-from-New-Jersey-to-Minnesota-jersey, signed by Zach Parise himself (meh), and see that his soda that was once in its cup, is now on his jersey.

The only bright side for Carter is that the autograph is on the back. Stifling back a laugh, I look at him, and when our eyes meet, the surprise vanishes from his face, leaving more room for anger. He lets out what can only be described as a growl, before I turn around and sprint back to my seat, laughing the whole way.

Halfway through regulation, the game is 2-1 Chicago, the second of those goals being Eric's first NHL career goal coming just two minutes ago. The puck, I am now holding until the end of the period. The look on Eric's face when he handed me the puck was priceless, and Caroline's camera was going crazy when he walked over to us.

By the end of the game, the final score is 4-1 Chicago, Eric's goal being the game winner. A bad night for Carter and Adam.