The locker room is dead silent as we all pile in. We are up 3 goals but Coach still looks unexplainably pissed at us all. "Do you know you are all trending on twitter? The team and some of you specifically?"

"Sweet," Lawler cheers but Coach turns to him with a look that could make anyone wet their pants.

"Not sweet. Alex, do we want to try this again? What happened to your face?"

Stan's bruises are still pretty noticeable from Wednesday's fight and naturally when we got to the arena Thursday morning Coach asked a ton of questions. I had prepped everyone before hand on the lie about Stan falling down the stairs, choosing to handle Pmans discipline internally as a house instead of letting it fuck up our last few games. Everyones eyes get wide as Coach stares down Stan specifically.

"I slipped," Stan mumbles not making eye contact and instead looking down at his skates like something insanely fascinating is happening with them.

"Slipped," Coach laughs. "Slipped onto Prestons fist?"

Collectively we all stop breathing. This is about the definition of worse case scenario. I want to pull out my phone and see what is being said about us and which of us are trending but I already know one of those people is me. Which means my parents will see this. My chest suddenly feels like a school bus is parked on top of it.

Coach continues to scold us all and get the full story about the fight but I can't concentrate at all on what he is saying. I can already hear my parents droning on and on about what a fuck up I am, what an embarrassment.

I know this is pretty much a death wish but I grab my phone and leave the locker room. Coach is screaming my name as I stumble to get away. I wonder around the unfamiliar arena until I find my way outside. I sit myself on the ground against the wall and pull my phone out. I have 100s of texts from guys I used to play with, my parents, people from school, and even numbers I don't know but I ignore them all and click on the only contact that hasn't texted me.

"Ry," she answers on the first ring. "Where are you? I thought Coach banned phones from being used between periods."

"Outside," I tell her. "I needed air."

I can hear her saying something to someone, probably Luna, before she replies to me, "Where outside? I am coming to find you."

I do my best to explain where I am and somehow Francesca manages to find me.

"They aren't saying anything bad about you," she assures me as she kneels in front of me. It is rare she gets to see me without a hat so she takes full advantage and runs her fingers through my sweaty hair.

"They won't see it that way." I don't need to clarify who they is.

"Fuck them," she says strongly with a level of conviction that causes me to shiver. "They can go fuck themselves honestly. You are fucking incredible and if the Islanders don't care why should they? Besides who can fault you for breaking up a fight? For being a good, decent guy?"

"It will make them look like they raised some punk," I laugh weakly, suddenly really tired.

"You, the punk? Did you miss me at your last game," she laughs, but her laugh isn't tired like mine. Her laugh is my daily reminder that there are good things in my life.

Francesca curls up into my lap and lets me silently process. She doesn't try to feed me bullshit about how they won't care or how this will all work out. She just sits there playing with my hair some more with her face buried into my neck.

"Question?" she breaks the silence looking up with sure pure innocence I instantly melt.

"Answer," I smile down at her as she shifts around in my lap.

"If I was a worm would you still want to share the ice with me?"

"What the fuck, Beck?" I laugh. She looks really proud of herself for making me laugh, just like I feel proud that the smile on her face right now is because of me. "Can worms even skate? I don't think they do well with the cold?"

She pauses to think about what I said, dramatically stroking her chin. Her finger tips are starting to get pink from the cold so I grab them and hold them in my own to keep her warm. "Maybe not, ok fine what if I was a monkey?"

"Butt, sometimes I wonder if you're on drugs."

"I am high Ry, high on life!" she yells as she jumps up off my lap. She reaches for my hand and I take it, letting her think she is helping me get up even though she could never actually pull me up. We both head toward the door which I used to get out here.

"Why are you so curious to know what I would do if you were a worm weirdo?"

"I'm not," she confesses as Mike comes racing down the hall. "You were thinking too hard and I was worried a dumb hockey boy like you might hurt yourself thinking that hard."

I laugh and pull her into a tight hug. I am about to be in a shit ton of trouble with Coach but I am ok with that, I knew the consequences when I left the room. "Thank you," I whisper as Mike finally reaches us.

"Score a goal in my honor." I nod as she scurries off back to our friends in the stands.

Mike leads me to the bench since I missed the first minute of the third. Coach gives me a thumbs up not looking at all mad at me and I give him one back. The guys fill me in on what happened after I left while we watch the game in front of us. Pman is out tomorrow which means we have to switch up lines a little. Apparently to make up for me lying and telling everyone else to lie I am getting moved to his spot to pick up some slack. It sucks because my line has been together all season and we have great chemistry on the ice but it is nothing I can't handle.

Most of the more inexperienced guys are in since we are up so many points. Coach being a smart man is saving his better players energy for tomorrow's game. I start to realize that if I am out the rest of the third I can't score. When the opposing team scores and closes the gap from 4-1 to 4-2 I get up and walk over to Coach.

"Can I go in and score?"

"Why? We are still winning and no way they can score 2 more in 3 minutes. Why should I risk my best center?"

"Because three is my lucky number," I say but it sounds more like a question.

"What the fuck did you just say Carson?" He doesn't sound mad, just extremely confused; which is pretty common. I think Coach lives in a constant state of confusion with us. He likes to tell us we are the reason he goes to therapy.

"It's true sir," Dunk pipes up.

"Yeah sir he has three rats and rumor has it he even has a third nipple. Him and the number three are just meant to be," Wiz adds. Yeah, I get why he needs therapy because of us.

I look at Wiz in confusion and he just shrugs as Coach rubs his hand over his face. "I swear to fucking god I need a raise. Get on the ice Carson and um maybe see a doctor after this."

I don't bother disputing the nipple thing right now and jump onto the ice next chance I get. I get the puck and slap it toward the net quickly, not looking to waste time. The poor goalie actually flinches as the puck flies toward him. Their actual goalie got injured and it is clear their back up goalie wasn't prepared to play against a team like ours.

After my goal I point directly at Francesca who is cheering wildly in the stands. All her friends are laughing so I can only imagine what she is yelling right now. Likely something about being a worm.

After the game we all get stuck doing media as if we are actual professionals. I get stuck with the most interviews, between the game and the video that leaked everyone wants to talk to me. I try to remain polite and casual with my answers. We are all media trained but that training never told us what to do if during the first round of regionals a video leaks of your teammates getting into a fist fight and you getting knocked in the face.

"So tell us Carson, what was the fight about?" The woman interviewing me is definitely young, likely still in college or newly graduated and more interested in the drama than the game.

"A girl," I answer truthfully. "It happens, things come to blows, tensions run high but then the next day we all move on. Families fight, even ours."

"Who is the girl," she pries, somewhat intrusively. Why does it matter to her? Does she really think SportsCenter or their fans care about some college kids fighting about a girl?

I pause thinking for a minute. Francesca is standing behind her within hearing distance so I shoot her a wink and look directly into the camera. "Do you think a worm could ice skate?"

Francesca screams then doubles over laughting. The interviewer's face is bright red while the crew she is with looks around in confusion. "Thank you," I politely say and dismiss myself joining my favorite person, who is rolling on the floor in tears.

"You didn't!" she screams as I lift her up, careful to never let her face be seen by the camera. I put my hat on her head and pull it down to hide her face as more people turn their attention toward the two of us. I have accepted that my parents will probably see this and wonder who she is but if I can at least protect her identity from them then she can still be the one thing in my life they can't mess with.

"It was a valid question," I tell her as I duck back into the locker room away from everyone. We still haven't talked about Wednesday night and I am not sure if I should bring it up. "So," I say looking around the room.

"So," she says clearing her throat awkwardly.

"About Wednesday," I start but am interrupted as two people stumble into the locker room.

"Fuck," Bray moans as Parker pushes him further into the room.

"God fucking dammit," I curse. If I get interrupted one more time by Bray yelling fuck I am going to have a nervous breakdown. Our almost kiss and this talk both interrupted, it's like someone is out to get me.

"Boys get on the bus," Coach yells, poking his head into the room. After the way I pushed my luck today I don't dare to disobey him.

"I love you," Bray whispers as he kisses Parker. I look away as does Francesca, giving them a little bit of privacy.

When they break apart I leave with Bray while Parker and Francesca walk the opposite way. We are all in the same hotel this weekend but Coach gives us a strict curfew the night before a game, but tomorrow, tomorrow I won't have a curfew. Maybe I could ask Francesca out? At least test the waters?