him•bo
/'himbō/
noun informal • humorous
an attractive but unintelligent man
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Freyja Stahl had gone to all of her brothers hockey games since he joined the sport; never missing a single one. This doesn't change when he is asked to play on an inter...
The day had come; it was finally the rematch of Team U.S.A. and The Vikings. Freyja was nervous, maybe more nervous than both her brother and Dean combined. She was really hoping for Iceland to lose, no matter how weird that sounded. Most of them were stuck-up brats. Even her brother had the self-awareness of a sponge when hockey short circuited his brain, which was more often than Gunnar wanted to admit.
Freyja woke up earlier than she usually did in order to dress up a bit nicer to impress Dean. She didn't know why she cared so much about his opinion, but she chose not to dwell on it. Instead, she browsed her suitcase for something that looked nice but wouldn't be considered trying too hard. But she was trying hard. She just didn't want that to be noticeable, especially by Dean.
Finally, she decided on a slightly frilly, white dress and a green corset for around her waist. It wasn't something unusual for her to wear. In fact, she had it because it was exactly her style. The girl felt satisfied with her choice, so she moved onto her hair, which she had no clue how she wanted to style it. Freyja sat in front of her vanity mirror and just stared into her reflection, thinking of ways she could make her hair presentable.
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"You look nice." Gunnar's voice broke through the quiet stillness of her rooms atmosphere, narrowing his eyes. "Why?"
"What do you mean, 'why'? Can't I look nice for the sake of looking nice?" She asked, looking up from her phone.
"You never try this hard. Ever. It's kinda scary." Gunnar dramatically shivered.
"Shut up." Freyja chuckled as she threw a pillow at him that he easily caught.
"Is it a boy?" She just stared at him and slowly shook her head. "A girl?"
"No. And it's none of your business if it was." She stuck her tongue out at him.
"It's totally a boy. You've never acted like this before, so it's definitely a boy." He smirked, beginning to walk away.
"You're such a dick!" Freyja smiled at his antics.
"I know!" Gunnar called from the hallway before he shut the door, leaving her in silence once again.
Freyja took this silence to text Dean two hours before the game was supposed to start.
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After their quick conversation, because she knew he would need to get ready soon, Freyja sighed happily and rested her phone on her chest. The brunette stared up at the ceiling with a smile on her face as she thought back a few months when she first met Dean. Her thoughts ran through her mind, and a sudden realization hit her. Hard.
"Oh my God..." She breathed shakily. "I like Dean Portman."
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The girl nervously fiddled with her fingers. She was sitting in the stands on her brothers side, but she knew that she wouldn't be cheering for his team. The game was about to start in any minute and, for some reason, Freyja was growing more anxious by the second. She really wanted Team U.S.A. to win, and she knew it would probably be hard to beat Iceland; they were one of the strongest teams she knew.
But her hope never fleeted because in her heart she was sure that Team U.S.A. would prevail and win. The buzzer loudly sounded and brought the teen out of her own mind and into the game in front of her, ready to witness a blood bath. Or, at least, a blood bath in the making. She cringed just thinking about how brutal The Vikings were to other teams, and because this was the final game she knew that they would amp up their aggressiveness tenfold.
It didn't look good for Team U.S.A. and the game hadn't even started, but Freyja pleaded that everything would be okay. It had to be okay. For the team, and for Dean.
