Her Feet in His Skates
Chapter 7
After a couple days of monotony, the day Third has been living for his whole life is here: The NHL Draft.
We stand outside the Verizon Center in the muggy June heat of DC; Third woke us up at six, even though the draft doesn't start until one. We've been here for two hours already. My feet are killing me in the heels I was forced into by Kendall and the humidity is making me sweat like crazy.
I keep myself buried in the circle my brothers have created, no matter how much hotter it is, avoiding looking into the gathering crowd of this year's draftees. The deadline for the guys' birthdays is different this year and while I acknowledged the change, I cannot remember when it was. And Carter's birthday is just past the old deadline so he is more than likely going to show up.
Finally, they allow the draftees to enter the Verizon Center, Third and his rather large posse of ten being the first, me still huddled around Jordan and Eric.
Getting to our seats, I notice they're just fifteen rows off the floor swamped with men in suits preparing for the event. We have ten seats, five in two rows. My brothers elect to sit in the back, and Third goes for a seat next to Kendall, one seat in from the aisle where I am sitting, Third's mom and dad next to his girlfriend.
The Comissioner of the NHL comes onto the stage to announce the beginning of the Draft, being heavily booed by the fans including all ten of us, for letting the CBA expire and leaving fans hockey-less for two months. He's no more well liked than Bettman.
The first pick is in and the Los Angeles Kings are the owners of it. The President, Head Coach and other dignitaries of the team all crowd around each other while the GM goes to the podium to thank the Capitals and fans for their hospitality blah blah blah. Then, he announces the pick.
The second pick belongs to the former Arizona Coyotes who moved from Pheonix to Seattle last summer.
The GM walks up to the podium and announces their pick: not Third. He has a defeated look on his face and his hand is tightly locked with Kendall's who wears the same expression, I would assume because of who rounds out the Top 3: the Edmonton Oilers who still suck to this day. However, they're faces are surprisingly relieved when Third's name isn't called by the Oilers which surprises me because Third was projected at Second Overall. He really got his dad's hockey sense.
Finally, the Bruins, who traded for the fourth overall pick which was originally owned by Calgary, and the rest of the organization's hierarchy come onto the stage and Patrice Bergeron, the Bruins' GM after retiring from the league, approaches the podium and talks about the Caps' hospitality. Then, he announces the pick: Patrick Kane III. He jumps up and whoops, hugging me and spinning while I hold on for dear life. He then dives in immediately for Kendall, sharing a quick kiss before he hugs his parents. On his way back to the aisle he shakes the hands of all my brothers, Jor welcoming him to the team proudly.
Third hands me his jacket when he passes me and smiles crookedly. He approaches the stage and Kendall and I are going crazy, taking hundreds of pictures. He puts on the jersey then smiles with his arms around Patrice Bergeron and the Bruins' President.
The next round goes by a lot quicker, since the draftees no longer go onto the stage to recieve their jerseys. About halfway through, the Bruins have their second round pick at 45th overall.
Patrice's voice comes over from the microphone at the Bruins' table announcing the second pick by them: Carter Blake.
A loud eruption comes from twenty rows back and I see Carter's family and Tiffany who looks like she doesn't know what the actual fuck is going on and like she couldn't give a crap until Carter reaches her. She smiles and they kiss while Kendall and my brothers make gagging noises. I don't know how to feel so I stay silent, looking straight ahead and trying to find Dad in this mess of people on the main level.
I look back at his group when they quiet down and see Carter walking down the steps. He notices me as he passes and looks at me for a second before smiling lopsidely; he clearly doesn't want to acknowledge any of our history anymore.
I hear one of my brothers growl and he quickly speeds off down the steps to the main floor.
I follow his disappearing back as he walks toward the Bruins' table as Kendall scoffs in disgust.
----
The rest of the draft goes by uneventful: no one else that I know gets drafted. But, after Mr. Longshot, the 211th pick and last of the draft, the families and friends are allowed to go down onto the clearing main floor as all the team's managers leave the Verizon Center. We pass by the Blackhawk's table on our way to Third at the Bruins' table and Dad joins our mob of people, slinging his arm over my shoulders.
He looks down at me and smiles which I return before I hear an ear-piercing squeal. It can only be Kendall. I look over and see her running toward Third.
Deciding I'm not in the mood to barf, I look away from their coupley moment to see the rest of the draft picks.
The Bruins seem to have done well in the draft, making sure they had a pick every round. Carter isn't here thankfully so I assume he went to find his family.
I'm snapped out of my trance when Third jumps on me. He tackles me since I'm caught off guard and then starts screaming in my ear about how he's gonna be the new Sidney Crosby. "So you're gonna be the next ultimate dick-douche of the NHL?" I ask.
We stand outside the Verizon Center in the muggy June heat of DC; Third woke us up at six, even though the draft doesn't start until one. We've been here for two hours already. My feet are killing me in the heels I was forced into by Kendall and the humidity is making me sweat like crazy.
I keep myself buried in the circle my brothers have created, no matter how much hotter it is, avoiding looking into the gathering crowd of this year's draftees. The deadline for the guys' birthdays is different this year and while I acknowledged the change, I cannot remember when it was. And Carter's birthday is just past the old deadline so he is more than likely going to show up.
Finally, they allow the draftees to enter the Verizon Center, Third and his rather large posse of ten being the first, me still huddled around Jordan and Eric.
Getting to our seats, I notice they're just fifteen rows off the floor swamped with men in suits preparing for the event. We have ten seats, five in two rows. My brothers elect to sit in the back, and Third goes for a seat next to Kendall, one seat in from the aisle where I am sitting, Third's mom and dad next to his girlfriend.
The Comissioner of the NHL comes onto the stage to announce the beginning of the Draft, being heavily booed by the fans including all ten of us, for letting the CBA expire and leaving fans hockey-less for two months. He's no more well liked than Bettman.
The first pick is in and the Los Angeles Kings are the owners of it. The President, Head Coach and other dignitaries of the team all crowd around each other while the GM goes to the podium to thank the Capitals and fans for their hospitality blah blah blah. Then, he announces the pick.
The second pick belongs to the former Arizona Coyotes who moved from Pheonix to Seattle last summer.
The GM walks up to the podium and announces their pick: not Third. He has a defeated look on his face and his hand is tightly locked with Kendall's who wears the same expression, I would assume because of who rounds out the Top 3: the Edmonton Oilers who still suck to this day. However, they're faces are surprisingly relieved when Third's name isn't called by the Oilers which surprises me because Third was projected at Second Overall. He really got his dad's hockey sense.
Finally, the Bruins, who traded for the fourth overall pick which was originally owned by Calgary, and the rest of the organization's hierarchy come onto the stage and Patrice Bergeron, the Bruins' GM after retiring from the league, approaches the podium and talks about the Caps' hospitality. Then, he announces the pick: Patrick Kane III. He jumps up and whoops, hugging me and spinning while I hold on for dear life. He then dives in immediately for Kendall, sharing a quick kiss before he hugs his parents. On his way back to the aisle he shakes the hands of all my brothers, Jor welcoming him to the team proudly.
Third hands me his jacket when he passes me and smiles crookedly. He approaches the stage and Kendall and I are going crazy, taking hundreds of pictures. He puts on the jersey then smiles with his arms around Patrice Bergeron and the Bruins' President.
The next round goes by a lot quicker, since the draftees no longer go onto the stage to recieve their jerseys. About halfway through, the Bruins have their second round pick at 45th overall.
Patrice's voice comes over from the microphone at the Bruins' table announcing the second pick by them: Carter Blake.
A loud eruption comes from twenty rows back and I see Carter's family and Tiffany who looks like she doesn't know what the actual fuck is going on and like she couldn't give a crap until Carter reaches her. She smiles and they kiss while Kendall and my brothers make gagging noises. I don't know how to feel so I stay silent, looking straight ahead and trying to find Dad in this mess of people on the main level.
I look back at his group when they quiet down and see Carter walking down the steps. He notices me as he passes and looks at me for a second before smiling lopsidely; he clearly doesn't want to acknowledge any of our history anymore.
I hear one of my brothers growl and he quickly speeds off down the steps to the main floor.
I follow his disappearing back as he walks toward the Bruins' table as Kendall scoffs in disgust.
----
The rest of the draft goes by uneventful: no one else that I know gets drafted. But, after Mr. Longshot, the 211th pick and last of the draft, the families and friends are allowed to go down onto the clearing main floor as all the team's managers leave the Verizon Center. We pass by the Blackhawk's table on our way to Third at the Bruins' table and Dad joins our mob of people, slinging his arm over my shoulders.
He looks down at me and smiles which I return before I hear an ear-piercing squeal. It can only be Kendall. I look over and see her running toward Third.
Deciding I'm not in the mood to barf, I look away from their coupley moment to see the rest of the draft picks.
The Bruins seem to have done well in the draft, making sure they had a pick every round. Carter isn't here thankfully so I assume he went to find his family.
I'm snapped out of my trance when Third jumps on me. He tackles me since I'm caught off guard and then starts screaming in my ear about how he's gonna be the new Sidney Crosby. "So you're gonna be the next ultimate dick-douche of the NHL?" I ask.