On The Ice (boyxboy)

thirteen

a/n- i just reread my most recent chapter and holy gosh there is so many typos. i cannot imagine how many typos are in the previous chapters. again i am just a teenage girl so please regard!! lol and im sorry if the story doesn't exactly follow, sometimes i forget that im writing a story and this isn't actually happening. does anyone else get those movies in their head?? anyway carry on!

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CHARLIES POV

Did I just hear that I'm sharing a room with Ollie? I look around the bus to make sure, and everyone's just listening to coach ramble about hotel etiquette.

"And no shenanigans. We are a hockey team, not a bunch of immature children," Coach finishes. I would like to argue that some guys on the team, not to name names, are very immature and close-minded but it's not my place.

I remember coach saying earlier that it would be about 15 minutes before we arrive, so I decide to take out my beats and listen to music and think. I do enjoy my fair share of Chase Atlantic and The Weeknd.

My eyes drift to the seat across from me where Ollie's curly, sandy blonde hair is poking from the top of the seat. He must be sitting low. The seat right across from me sits Matthew, which is the seat behind Ollie. Nick sits in front of me.

I move my body to where people wouldn't tell that I'm looking at Ollie, but my gaze keeps drifting back. Does he mean what he said when he was leaving the hallway, and in the locker room? I don't get it. Will I pry this information from him? No. I wouldn't do that to him, but I want to know.

I mean, if he is gay he would have everyone's support. Except for some people I will not name on this team, that aren't important I might add.

I try to think back to our conversation and then something strikes my vision. What was on his palms? There were little crescent moons in a bright agitated red. My mind drifts to the scariest things and it makes my heart ache. My stomachs curls in on itself, and my mouth begins to salivate.

My thoughts are interrupted when the lights are suddenly on, making my eyes blurry until they adjust. Coach's demanding voice begins to boom, "Alright ladies. We're here. No fooling around with the women, no ding dong ditching, no alcohol, no drugs, yada yada. Got me?"

We all murmur different forms of yes coach and we begin making our way off the bus. I let Matthew go first and I follow after him. I grab my sticks and my gear from underneath and head inside.

"Shit this place is nice," Matthew says from beside me, "How much do you think it cost them?"

"Hopefully not much. I don't want that on my conscience." Brodie says from behind, coming between me and Matthew and throwing his slender arms around our shoulders. Brodie is probably around 5'9 and much thinner than most of us. He's quick on the ice, stealthy, and he's got a wicked shot. I'm not saying he isn't muscular, just not as jacked, I guess.

Matthew scoffs, "As if you have one. You don't give a shit about anything other than partying, girls, and hockey. In that order." I bring myself to laugh because in the short time I've been here, that seems about right.

Brodie gasps and grabs him by the neck looking to lock him in a chokehold, but Matthew is big. Brodie stands no chance against Matthew's 6'4 d-man frame.

I pull ahead of them not looking to get yelled at by coach and head into the lobby. And Matthew was right. This place is nice as fuck. Truly, how did they pay for this?

After a few minutes of everyone talking in the lounge area, coach comes stalking toward us carrying keycards in hand. He begins to pass them out and he gives one to Ollie and then goes to me.