Michael Clifford didn't think he was necessarily a bad friend. All things considered, he actually thought of himself as a rather good one.
But being friends with Luke Hemmings was a full time job, and Michael found it to be a quite tasking one.
So when he went home early from the bar on Sunday night - he thought the entire 'hockey players partying on a Sunday' construct was entirely too stupid, it wasn't with a girl, it wasn't with alcohol poisoning or with a killer high, it was simply to take a break from Luke.
Calum and he usually switched off who had to babysit their friend, and that night was theoretically Michael's night to follow Luke around the bar and hope to God he didn't start a fight with anyone while he was there. But Calum let him off the hook, being all too understanding of the situation and how Michael's antisocial nature was hard to combat in such settings as a crowded bar with too many drunks.
When he wasn't playing hockey or hanging out with his two best friends, Michael liked to keep to himself. He played video games and excelled at ignoring his ever-growing to-do list so much so that he had to get a tutor his junior year of college.
It just so happened that he eventually fell in love with her and now he really had no interest in getting anything done.
He lived with Crystal now, as she was a year older than him and had graduated a year earlier. Lucky for him, she chose to stay in the area and accept a formal job at the firm that she had been interning at for years beforehand.
She was successful, and he was on his way.
The three boys had collectively agreed to continue through their final year of college before being drafted. Luke had refused many seemingly undeniable offers from popular teams and Calum and Michael had their fair share of disappointed recruiters, but they couldn't leave their team without giving them another winning season; which was exactly what they were doing.
Calum, Luke, and Michael made up the most successful line on the team. They spent the most time on the ice, they carried the team in assists and goals, and there seemed to be some sense of telepathy between the trio. It seemed like they were constantly communicating without words, without looks, without movements, and everyone that watched them saw the magic that they brought to the rink.
But today, Michael simply wasn't feeling it.
It was morning skate, arguably the worst time of day for Luke, Calum, and him. It was usually pretty hard for them to wake up at five in the morning, and it was even harder to get them to lace up their skates, put on their gear, and get their asses onto the ice.
Luke and Calum were impatiently standing in the doorway to the locker room and Michael sat in his stall, his head leaned against the wood and his eyes closed.
"Mike, we have to get on the ice," Calum said to his friend, checking the clock on the wall, "We were literally supposed to be out there like five fucking minutes ago. I'm not in the mood for Coach to make us do more laps today."
Michael stayed silent.
Luke clicked his tongue impatiently and stared at the ceiling, "I'm giving you like, two seconds before I come over there and rip that black hair off of your fucking head, mate."
"We play USC today," Michael whispered quietly, his eyes still closed and his head still tilted back.
After a moment of silence, Calum stilled and a frown overtook his face. Luke, still lost in the conversation, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
"Yeah, and?" Luke spoke, "We fucking shredded those losers last time we played them."
"Luke," Calum warned, "You don't remember what happened to Mike that game, do you?"
He scoffed, "He got like, three assists. You got that hatty, remember?"
"Luke-"
"Or are we referring to that hot brunette who hit on you before the game started? I would've let her-"
"Please don't finish that sentence," Michael whined, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes, "I'm talking about when I took that puck to the face, mate."
Luke paled, "Fuck. Shit, I remember that. They had to take you out on a stretcher. Knocked out a few of your teeth. You were out cold, it was fucking scary."
"I was out for weeks. I can't afford to do that this year. Every time we fucking play those assholes something goes wrong. Remember our freshmen year? When we lost in overtime because Cal's slap-shot rang off the fucking post? We have the worst luck with them."
"Hey," Calum chirped, "That wasn't really them. I just expected your fellow winger to be in front of the net to get it for me."
Luke snorted in retaliation, "I can't help that their defenseman had a death wish, 'kay? He was just begging to drop the gloves with me. You should be grateful that I didn't," he walked over to Michael's stall and sat in the one next to him, poking his friend's arm through his jersey.
"Anyway, we really do need to get out there, mates. I invited a friend to the game tonight and I'd like her to actually have something to watch. So let's go," Calum straightened from his spot leaning against the door.
"Cal's lookin' to get a good fuck in tonight, huh? She hot?" Luke smirked as he stood to meet his friend at the door. Michael followed behind him, still not looking to make much conversation.
His friends understood him well enough to know that he wouldn't be voicing his opinion at the moment.
Calum laughed, "Nah, mate. She's just a friend from my English class. Fucking smart, though. Not sure how she got into a senior level class in her sophomore year, but she's cool."
"If you're not going to get with her, can I?" Luke asked.
"No offense, man, but I really don't think she's your type."
———
Nova wouldn't deny the fact that she liked hockey.
Nova Montgomery really fucking loved hockey, actually.
To Nova, the game was easily one of the best sports to ever grace the earth. Her father and she used to spend every night watching hockey together, and she spent even more time watching highlights and interviews by herself. She prided herself in being a Chicago Blackhawks fan; nothing more, nothing less. She was a regular at the Redwings arena in Detroit, but she always claimed her heart belonged to the United Center.
Either way, she couldn't lie to her roommate when Ruth asked if she was looking forward to the game that night.
"Looking forward to watching hockey? Yes. Looking forward to having to watch a bunch of college jocks play hockey? That's where I draw the line for excitement."
"Oh, c'mon. Calum's cute. Maybe you can put yourself out there for the first time in forever and at least get some di-"
"Ruth!" Nova shrieked, "No. Calum and I aren't like that, he's just a friend from one of my classes. He's a fucking senior, for Christ's sake."
"Okay, and? Ashton's a senior and you still hang out with him all the time."
The pair was sitting on the floor of their dorm room, surrounded by heaps of clothes that they had both decided didn't look right for the occasion. Nova was continuing to sort through the options they had laid out while Ruth scrolled through her phone aimlessly.
"I've never fucked Ashton, you perv."
"Not yet, at least," Ruth smirked, looking up from her phone for a second, "Anyway, I want play-by-play updates on how tonight goes."
"You don't understand hockey," Nova retaliated blankly, "I could literally text you 'they scored a goal' and you'd probably ask how many points it was worth," she chose to ignore her friend's previous comment about Ashton, whom neither of them had heard from all day.
"I mean with Calum, smart one. I want to know what happens with him. When is he coming to pick you up, anyways?"
"First of all, nothing is going to happen between Calum and me. Second of all, he should be in here in about half an hour. So we need to make a decision on an outfit like, twelve minutes ago."
"Wear your ripped black jeans and that red Blackhawks crop top," Ruth sighed, "If you aren't even going to try to get with anyone tonight, you don't really have to attempt to look hot."
Nova swatted her friend with the shirt she had grabbed between her fingers and laughed as she stood up, "I'm going to go get ready in the bathroom."
It wasn't that Ruth didn't want to go to the game tonight.
Although she didn't understand hockey, she knew the game tonight held some sort of importance for the school. Almost everyone was going to be there, which made her question why the hell the diner down the street required her to work and wouldn't let her take the night off.
She was originally set to drive Nova to the game and probably force her friend to buy her every single snack that the arena was selling, and she was looking forward to the probably-too-large basket of nachos she was going to eat.
Luckily, when her request for time off had gotten rejected, Calum was more than willing to bring Nova to the game.
Nova felt bad, of course, because Calum had to leave the arena (where he already was) and come to get her. She had offered to walk, and she had even debated calling Ashton, but Calum had refused. He didn't like the idea of her walking around town by herself. He didn't like the idea of any girl walking around town by herself, so he decided that he would sneak out of the locker room, give his friend a ride, and return before anyone noticed he was gone.
When Nova came back into the room, Ruth was perched on the corner of her bed.
"Thanks for completing dismantling my closet and leaving everything on the floor, jerk."
The clothes were exactly where the two of them had left them; piled on the floor, an array of monotonous colors with bright spots of vibrancy. Ruth had somehow maneuvered through the maze of strewn out leggings and Nova was pretty convinced that if she didn't pick the clothes up later, her friend would be more than happy to leave them there until they moved out for Christmas break.
"I'm a working woman, I don't have time to clean your shit up too, Nova."
Nova smiled silently at her friend and shook her head, "I don't have much time to, y'know, clean this up before I leave."
Ruth let her phone fall out of her grip and onto the white comforter she sat on, "Are you, Nova Montgomery, suggesting we leave our room messy? Because in my two years of being your roommate, I'm pretty sure you've threatened to kill me on multiple occasions for leaving a single article of clothing on the floor for more than a minute."
Nova sighed and shrugged, "I just want tonight to go okay, I guess. I can clean when I get back."
Her friend grinned at her, "Holy shit, you're evolving."
"I'm not a damn Pokémon, Ruth. I just have better things to do," Nova scoffed.
"Whatever, kiddo. Have fun with Calum," She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Almost as if on cue, Nova's phone dinged, and Calum's name was appearing on the brightness of her screen. She shook her head once more at her friend and looked over at the phone.
I'm outside!!! Let's gooooooo
"I'll be back after the game. Don't wait up!"
"Oh, trust me; I don't expect you to come home until tomorrow morning anyway."
Nova decided to ignore her friends comment for two reasons; number one, it was literally a fucking school night. If she decided to hook up with someone, it definitely wouldn't be before an eight am class.
Number two, for the millionth time, she genuinely did not have any interest in Calum Hood. He was nice, he was sweet, but he wasn't her type.
He was waiting in his car outside of her dorm, and he smiled at her as she walked through the doors and out into the humidity. It seemed like it was going to rain again, for the fourth time in the last week.
"Nova, hey!" He rolled down his window.
"Hi, Calum!" She smiled timidly at him and climbed into the passenger side of his car.
It smelled of sweat, cigarettes, and a dash of the black ice tree that was hanging from his mirror. She didn't expect anything else.
"You don't have to pay to get in, since I'm with ya," Calum spoke as he began to drive out of the lot, "So you can just head right in and get your seat. You're right behind the penalty box."
He looked over at her and smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, it was the best I could do on such short notice."
"No! That's totally fine. It's always funny to hear the arguments that go on in the penalty boxes anyways."
"You'll be right behind our box, anyway. So when I 'accidentally,'" he took his hands off the wheel for a second to make air quotes and quickly gripped the wheel again, "Trip someone from the other team, I'll say hi to you when I get a penalty."
"You should get a lot of penalties, just so I won't feel alone while I'm sitting by myself."
"Ah, spend the whole night in the box, eh? I think Coach might kill me for that. Besides, we already have someone who does that anyways," he joked.
When they arrived at the arena, Calum left Nova immediately. She smiled at him and gave him a quick 'good luck!" before he was running across the parking lot and into the player entrance. She gripped the ticket he had given her and joined the seemingly never ending line outside, a mixture of greens and yellows contrasting harshly with the red she was wearing.
Once inside, she deemed it fitting to continue her regular hockey game routine. She found her seat first (Calum wasn't lying, it was right behind the penalty box), went to the bathroom, and then found herself in one of the many vendor lines. Ten minutes later, she found herself situated in her seat with a soda and a piece of pizza. The JumboTron illuminated above the ice notified her that there were roughly three minutes and forty-eight seconds until both teams made their way onto the ice for warmups.
She sent a picture of the view from her seat to Ruth, who responded with her picture of her view of a completely empty diner with flickering lights. Nova couldn't help but feel guilty that she was enjoying herself while her friend was suffering through a job that paid a sinfully small wage.
She also sent one to her father, who immediately sent her an "I love you, have fun!" text that made her heart swell up.
Before she knew it, the horn was sounding and players began to filter out of the tunnel behind their benches. Fans began to cheer and many of them began to move down to ice-level in an attempt to get a better look at the boys on skates.
Nova grinned as she read the multiple signs from a multitude of different people, asking for pucks for various reasons.
When I grow up, I want to be a hockey player just like you #23! Can I get a puck?
This is my first game! Can I get a puck from number 79?
USC ain't got nothing on the luck of the fightin irish!
Players flocked to the boards to throw pucks to everyone they could. Some stretched in groups, talking and chatting while they prepared for the game. Others were surrounding the goalie, practicing shots and joking around as the music played loudly throughout the entire arena.
There was one scene at the opposite end of the glass that caught Nova's eye.
A small boy, no more than four years old, was staring at a player with wide eyes, a deep and toothy smile overtaking his face. The player was struggling to hurl the puck that laid on his stick over the glass and into the boys waiting hands. He continued to lift it in the air, but it always came back impressively to land back on his stick.
The first thing Nova noticed was how impressive the stick-handling of the player was. It was effortless, something that reminded her of watching Patrick Kane during the All-Star game.
The little boy's giggling was getting so loud, Nova swore she could hear it from across the rink, over the voices and loud music. She couldn't tell from where she was sitting, but she assumed the player was making faces to make the boy laugh every time he failed to accomplish his goal of getting the puck over the boards.
Eventually, the puck made its escape over the glass and into the little boy's father's hands, where he then handed it to the anticipating stubby hands that were held out in front of him expectantly. The little boy's smile widened so far that Nova was afraid it would hurt him, and her heart flipped when he took one of his small hands from the puck and put it up to the glass.
She watched as the player took his own gloved hand - a hand that was triple the size of the little boys - and put it against the glass as well, covering the child's.
When the player finally turned around, Nova had in no way expected Luke Hemmings' blue eyes, shining in amusement, to meet hers as he withdrew his hand from its place on the board.
------
man ok im so sorry if any of u guys have no clue how hockey works because some of this story is gonna ... not be fun for u to read. i'm not the biggest fan of this chapter but i think it adds a lot of characterization and it'll help down the road :)))) plus it sets up the next chapter to a mother fuckin T so im hella excited.
ok but lets get serious really quick; if u aren't aware or if ur just ignorant, a man named george floyd was murdered in cold blood by police officers last week and there have been many world-altering protests occurring across the nation. i want each and every one of you to know that i have been an active participant in the #blacklivesmatter movement and i will continue to advocate for minorities until they receive justice and the disease that is racism is finally cut off from the world.
that being said, if any of you are against the movement or in support of the police during this time, you don't have to continue reading and supporting this fic!! i'd prefer to not have it on my conscious to know that people who support the systematic murder of an entire race are reading the words i write anyways :)
keep fighting. keep signing petitions and donating. if you need more info please message me, i can send you important petitions to sign and ways to get involved.
also, happy pride!! i've struggled with my sexuality for years and im still figuring out what i identify with, but im so proud of every LGBTQ+ person the whole wide world. you're so strong and im always here if you need someone to talk to.
stay safe. i love u. thank you for reading. sorry this is long. hope you're enjoying the story. the world doesn't need any more negativity. you're all great. i will see u later this week or next week (soon. i swear).
- emily <3333333