by me
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The Hurricanes and Erik Cole do not belong to me. The rest of the story and its characters do.
Summary: They go to a hockey game.
Notes: This is Dame's POV again, but part 7 will be Coach Titon's.
Practice went well, mostly just conditioning again. I didn�t have anything to do, so I ordered pizza and did all my homework, including some of the stuff not due tomorrow. Impressive, for me. I�d always had about a 3.4 GPA, but school has never been my very first priority. I went to bed early because I didn�t have anything else to do. I didn�t dream, which disappointed me, actually. I was hoping to see Dad again.
Ryan was up when I got up, drinking coffee and watching Sportscenter. �Morning,� I said, sitting down and stealing a sip from his cup.
�Morning. Want to go to a hockey game tonight?�
�What?�
�Do you want to go to see the Hurricanes play tonight?�
�Um...sure, I guess. Seems like short notice. How did we end up with tickets?�
He smiled. �EMTs brought in a kid that got hit in the head at hockey practice, no parents present. He had concussion symptoms, so they stabilized him and sent up to Pedes to wait on his parents and for observation. As it turns out, he�s the son of a player, and his dad came to pick him up. When he learned that I�d sat with his son for an hour because he was scared of hospitals, I was apparently awarded with four tickets.�
I blinked. �Players actually DO that?�
He shrugged. �Guess so. He said he�d get us some by the bench. He knows the usual ticket holders and they won�t be here, so he�ll get their seats for us. Anyone you want to bring with us?�
I grinned, realizing that there was a certain 8-year-old girl that would kill to go to a game. �Yeah, a couple people. Are you working today?�
�Nope, midnight-to-noon, 24 hours off, and I start a normal work day.�
�Cool. I guess I�ll go get ready now.�
�That might be a good idea, because you have to leave in 20 minutes.�
I hurried, and slipped in to Calculus class just as the bell was ringing. Kyle was there today, looking fine, and Mr. Kinney seemed to be late, so I turned to him. �Are you busy tonight?�
�No,� he shrugged, still not looking at me.
��Cause I was wondering if...hey, are you ok?�
He finally made eye contact, and managed a half-hearted smile. �Yeah, yeah, I�m fine. So what�s up tonight?�
�Do you think you and Liz can come with us to the hockey game tonight?�
His eyes brightened and his smile became genuine. �Oh, she�d love that! She�s never been to a real game.�
�We�ll pick you guys up like 20 minutes after practice, ok?�
�Cool,� he replied, as Mr. Kinney finally came in mumbling about traffic and Kyle pulled his notebook from his bag. As he did so, his sleeve pulled up, and I caught sight of a bruise on his right wrist. I caught his arm, loosening my grip as he gasped in pain.
�What happened?�
He pulled his arm away. �Just ran into something,� he said, scowling at me. �Nothing big.�
I let it drop. But the mark on his arm didn�t look like the kind you get from running into something. More the kind you get from something running into you. And the thought that maybe there was something to that request by Coach Titon danced through my mind.
He looked fine in practice, though, and I managed to push the bruises out of my head. I nearly ran home from practice and hurried to rinse off and dress before we drove over to pick up Kyle. He and Liz got in the car, both smiling. She was wearing a Carolina hat and her hockey team�s jersey, and Kyle was just dressed normally, but nice. I let my gaze linger on him for just an instant while he helped his sister buckle her seatbelt. Realizing what I was doing, I looked up guiltily, to find Ryan watching me. He deliberately looked at Kyle then back and me and raised an eyebrow. Not changing expression, I looked out the front window and ignored him.
Liz gave us a running commentary on the players and the team, so I learned a lot before we got inside the arena. Ryan got our tickets from will-call, and I realized that when this player whose son he�d treated said �tickets by the bench� he meant it.
Ryan likes hockey, and I know nothing about it, and Kyle knows a little, so we were perfectly content to just watch the players warm up, but Liz is an expert and she was just enthralled. And then a couple of them came over to get a drink of water and were standing pretty much right next to us. I watched the young girl�s eyes grow and grow, and the younger of the players noticed her and smiled. �You�re Erik Cole,� she said, and apparently you can hear through the boards.
�Yep,� he said, and pointed to her jersey. �Do you play hockey?�
She nodded and turned around to show her number � 26, the same as the player she was talking to. �I�m a winger, just like you,� she said, obviously still in awe. �And I�ve had four hat tricks this season.�
�You must be good,� he told her, smiled, and returned to the ice.
Liz tugged on her brother�s sleeve. �Kylie, ERIK COLE talked to me,� she whispered, her eyes following him.
He laughed. �Don�t forget to blink, Lizard.�
The game was really, really cool. I couldn�t take my eyes off the ice, off the speed and energy and ferocity with which they played. It was unbelievable. The Hurricanes won by scoring in the last 2 minutes, and we all cheered loudly. �Thank you so much for bringing us, Dame,� Kyle said to me as we sat down for the last few seconds of the game.
�Oh, it�s all Ryan�s fault for being such a nice doctor. But I�m glad you guys could come. I wouldn�t have any idea what was going on without her to tell me.�
The buzzer sounded for the end of the game, so we stayed to watch the three stars and stuff before leaving. I let Liz sit up front, where she kept Ryan busy with her chattering. Kyle and I switched back to baseball. �Hockey kind of makes baseball seem slow,� he said, smiling.
�No...not as a pitcher, anyway. We control the pace of the game. And baseball�s more...strategy and thinking and less instinct and improvisation.�
He nodded. �Yeah, I guess so.�
�Where were you yesterday, at practice?�
�I...I just had some stuff to do at home. Nothing major.�
He sounded wrong, when he said it. Kind of edgy. It worried me, this serious, nervous side of him. There had to be SOMETHING wrong. But I don�t know how to find out what it was. So I let it drop and asked about the hitting capabilities of the players that were emerging as the best. I got back in the front seat after we dropped them off, and Ryan was quiet for a few minutes before asking, �What does their father do?�
�I don�t know. Works a regular job, 9-5, I guess. Kyle said he�s always home by 5:30.�
�Mom?�
�He hasn�t said anything about her.�
�Neither has Liz. Don�t you think that�s sort of weird? An eight-year-old child going an entire evening without mentioning her parents once?�
�She was excited about other things.�
He shrugged. �Yeah, I guess so.�
But he was awfully quiet the rest of the night, and it made me wonder exactly what he was thinking about and what would make him wonder about Liz and Kyle�s parents so much.