Free Stay by Jennifer Sucevic Page A

popcorn.
    Whistle.
    That one I don’t have to answer because it’s obvious.
    Fighting.
    “Crap call, ref!” Brooklyn yells again.
    I shake my head.  “No, it was actually a good call.  Not in our favor, but it was the right call to make.”  I sip my diet cola watching as one of our players skates over to the penalty box.  You can tell he’s still mouthing off to the player he’d just been brawling with.
    “Whose team are you on?”  She asks this as if she knows a damn thing about hockey.  What Brooklyn likes about hockey are the hot guys who look even more strapping, and thus hotter, with all their padding and gear.  And… well… she’s not exactly wrong about that.
    I just roll my eyes in answer. 
    When the game finally ends, the crowd goes wild because the Timber Wolves have managed to pull off a win.  From what I can tell, their team looks solid.  They have a lightening quick offense and a solid, not to mention huge, defense.  This is where the strapping comment comes in to play.  And the goalie was pretty amazing as well.  Not much slid past him tonight.  Even though it was bittersweet to watch, I can definitely see coming back to catch a few more games during the season.
    “We’re all heading over to a little bar after this to celebrate, you in?”  The unexpected rush of adrenalin from tonight’s win has Brooklyn bouncing on the edge of her seat with even more energy than usual.
    I groan.  “You never mentioned going out after the game.”
    Although Brooklyn knows I’m not much of a partier, she doesn’t understand the reasons for it.  And even though we’ve been friends for a really long time, I just haven’t been able to bring myself to tell her the whole sordid story.
    She smiles brightly before stating the obvious.  “If I had told you, you wouldn’t have agreed to come with me tonight.”
    I narrow my eyes because she’s right, of course.  And even though being here brought back a lot of painful memories, I’m glad Brooklyn talked me into coming with her.  Honestly, I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time.  Until tonight, I hadn’t realized just how much I still miss playing hockey.
    Interrupting my thoughts, she gives me a sad pouty face with pleading hands.  “Please, please, please,” she begs prettily.  Already I can feel myself weakening.  “We’ll have so much fun!”
    Argh… I don’t want to go.
    I don’t want to give in.
    I don’t…
    “Oh, fine, fine, fine!”  Grrr.  I hate when she talks me into this stuff because, more often than not, I always end up regretting it.  “But I’m not staying long.”  One hour, tops.  Then I’m heading back to the dorms.
    Satisfied, because she’s once again gotten her way, Brooklyn beams at me in response.  “Yay!  Now you can meet Austin.  He’s sooo cute and sooo nice.  I really like him, Cass.”  She gives me a meaningful look.  “He could totally be the one.”
    I almost snort.
    The one for what?
    Today?
    Tomorrow?
    This week?
    Next week?
    Yeah, sure, we would just see about that.  Brooklyn has a real propensity for hopping from one guy to another at the speed of light.  In the three weeks we’ve been rooming together, she’s been out with about four different guys.  Number fifty-five is forth in that line up.  Needless to say, the other three guys are still texting and calling but she’s already moved on.  So, do I really expect this one to last any longer than the others?
    The answer to that question is a big, fat nope. 
    After the majority of fans empty out of the stands, Brooklyn and I meander our way to the lobby to wait for Brooklyn’s new flavor of the week.  The girl definitely has a type- hot, athletic, and likes to have a good time.
    Just like she does. 
    It takes about twenty minutes for the guys to filter out of the locker room which is pretty typical.  The coach will usually talk to the team (or if they lose- yell), discuss what had gone right (or if they