Chapter Two: The Warning

“I'm serious, Isla.”

I stared at my brother. “So am I.”

Ethan rubbed a hand over his face, clearly trying not to lose his temper. 

We were standing outside the arena now, and the cold air was doing absolutely nothing to cool down the argument. “Why do you care so much?” I asked.

“Because he's not someone you should be around.”

“That isn't an answer.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn't.” I argued back. 

Ethan sighed. “Roman isn't a good person.”

I almost laughed. “That's rich coming from the guy who spent half the game trying to knock people's heads off.”

“That's different, it's a game.”

“Of course it is.”

He gave me a warning look. “Isla.”

I crossed my arms. “You're being ridiculous.”

“I know him.”

“No, you just hate him.”

“Yes.”

“Then how am I supposed to know whether anything you're saying is actually true?”

His expression changed. For a second, he looked less angry and more tired. “You don't understand.”

“Then explain it.”

He looked away. “It's complicated.”

I stared at him. “That's what people say when they don't want to tell you the truth.”

His jaw tightened. “Just trust me.”

I wanted to argue. Instead, I shook my head. “You know what? Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine. I'll stay away from Roman.”

The relief on his face almost made me feel guilty. “But,” I added, “you need to stop treating me like I'm some twelve years old kid.”

He sighed. “I'll try.”

“That's not convincing enough, promise me.” I stopped walking, turning to look at him. 

“It's the best you're getting so don't take it for granted.”

I smiled in between. “That'll do.”

He pulled me into a quick hug before opening the passenger door of his car. “Get in.”

“I can drive, you look too tired to be driving.”

“I've had one coffee.”

“Exactly.” I rolled my eyes but got in.

The drive home was mostly quiet. I stared out the window, watching the campus lights blur past. I should have been thinking about my assignment due Monday or the fact that I had completely forgotten to buy groceries. Instead, my mind kept going back to Roman.

"I was hoping you'd be here again." That sentence displayed in my head over and over again, I hated that I couldn't take my mind off it. 

* * * * * *

Monday morning came far too quickly. 

By ten, I was sitting in my journalism class, half-listening to Professor Miller explain our next assignment.

“You'll be covering one of the university's athletic programs for the semester,” she said.

A few people groaned, I looked down at my notes. Anything but hockey please... 

“The department has assigned each of you a team.”

She started handing out sheets of paper, I glanced at mine in a rush. I froze. Men's Hockey.

I stared at it for a few seconds. No... Absolutely not. There's no way I'll be working in that team. Nahh! 

I raised my hand. Professor Miller looked over. “Yes, Isla?”

“Can I switch?”

A few people laughed. She smiled. “No, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Because you already have access to the team.”

I knew exactly what she meant. My brother of course. I sank back into my chair, this was going to be a long semester.

* * * * * *

That afternoon, I found myself standing outside the hockey arena again. I had a notebook tucked under my arm and my camera hanging from my shoulder.

I reminded myself that this was work, nothing else attached.  

I pushed open the door, the familiar sound of skates scraping against ice reached me immediately.

Practice had already started. I found Ethan near the far end of the rink, talking to Coach Carter.

Good. I could do this without seeing Roman, at least, that was what I told myself. Then someone skated past me. Number seventeen.

I looked up. Roman.

He noticed me almost immediately, his mouth curved into that same irritating smile.

He skated toward the boards. “You came back.”

I lifted my notebook. “Don't flatter yourself.”

“So you weren't looking for me?”

“No.”

“ouch...” he held his heart as though he was in pain. "that's heartbreaking."

I tried not to smile but it didn't work. “I'm here for an assignment.”

“Right.”

“You don't believe me?” I waved my notebook in his face.

“I believe you.” He paused. “I just don't believe you hate being here as much as you pretend.”

I opened my notebook. “Can we do the interview?”

Roman rested his arms on the boards. “Sure.”

“What's your position?”

“Left wing.”

“I know that.” I twitched my pen to write. 

“Then why ask?” he bent towards my face to look at me. 

“Because I'm supposed to ask.”

He let out a laugh, titling his head up. 

I looked down at my notes again. “What's your biggest goal this season?”

“Winning.”

“That's it?” I wrote. 

“That's the goal of every hockey player.”

“Very inspiring.”

He smiled. “You want the honest answer?”

I looked up. “Yes.”

His expression became serious. “To prove I belong here.”

Something about the way he said it caught me off guard. “You don't think you do?”

“Sometimes, I don't. ”

I studied him for a second. For the first time, I didn't see the arrogant hockey player everyone talked about, i saw someone who was trying very hard to prove something. 

Before I could ask what, Ethan's voice cut across the rink. “Hayes!”

Roman glanced over. Ethan was staring at us again. 

Roman looked back at me. “Your brother really doesn't like me.”

I closed my notebook. “I've noticed.”

He smiled. “See you tomorrow, Bennett.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You're covering us all this semester, remember?”

Right, so un-academic of me to have forgotten. 

Roman pushed away from the boards and skated back onto the ice. I watched him for a second longer than I should have, then I looked down at my notebook. At the bottom of the page, underneath all my interview notes, I'd accidentally written his name. Roman Hayes.

I quickly scribbled over it, It was just a name. Nothing more.

At least, that's what I told myself.