The Hockey Player and the Pop-Star

Lyndsay Sassman lives in the small town of Sioux Center, IA. Probably the most uneventful state in the U.S. But that all changes when she runs into a famous boy-band at her local hockey rink, things go from uneventful to downright weird.


2. Insufferable Classmates and a Weird Coincidence

"Are you serious?" I ask the girl next to me, my mouth hanging open at the sheer surprise at her stupidity.

"What?" she asks in obvious obliviousness, "It was a good question."

"No, it wasn't. Not at all," I say to her, already knowing that the class and teacher were watching the scene unfold, "That was, by far, one of the stupidest things I have ever heard."

The Family Relations teacher watches on not stopping the retarded blonde from replying.

"No it wasn't . . . " she trails off in confused annoyance.

"You literally just asked if a baby was at risk of falling through an ulcer, had a women been pregnant at the time of the ulcer's occurrence," I tell her slowly, only earning a nod, "You can't hear the stupidity leaking out of that question?"

"Not at all," the blonde says. I shake my head in disbelief and disgust.

"You are just not worth my time," I shake my head, turning back to the staring teacher, "Carry on with the lesson, please."

"Right," the teacher says, used to interruptions, "Aside from that interesting question, can any one tell me how an ulcer occurs and where?"

I raise my hand along with a few others. Thankfully, he doesn't call on me. Smart man. 

This lovely science lesson goes on for a good twenty minutes before the bell rings, signalling the end of the school day. You don't know happiness until you hear the 3:20 bell ring in your last class on a Friday. I stand, hustling out of the room to get out to my car before too many students fill the parking lot. As soon as I'm off school property, I take a right turn to head home.

I get home, quickly dropping off my school bag, and trading it in for my hockey bag. I have the girls U-12 practice to coach tonight, and I got some help from my dad with getting the squirt team to scrimmage the girls. I pull into the lot, pulling my small bag containing my gloves, helmet and skates out the back seat, locking the car. I hurry into the rink, not wanting the girls to have to wait too long for a locker room. I head into the lobby, trading the rink worker's locker room key for my car keys. I head over to the small group of girls, and wave the key in the air with a grin. The girls cheer and we head back to the locker rooms. I lead the girls to Locker Room 2-which is too freaking tiny, just so you know-and they begin to get their gear on.

"So," I say to all of the girls. There are about 12 of them here right now, "Are you girls ready to play the squirts?"

"Duh!" they all tease me, causing a grin to form on my lips. I slip on my skates, tying them tightly, and pull on my helmet and gloves. I drag the process on, attempting to finish at the same time as the girls. Once we're all ready, I lead the team out of the locker room, and into the gate to get onto the ice. I look through the announcer's box, to see the boy's team and their smug-looking coach. The refs slip past the team, and out onto the ice, giving me the okay to let the teams on. 

The girls eagerly step onto the ice, obviously ready to play. Soon, warm-ups are over, and I gather the team right by the bench. I quickly sort out positions, and I send my starting line out, getting the rest of the team onto the bench. I stand on the bench, keeping my skates on in case I get a hurt player, but I take off my helmet and gloves.  The game starts, and the girls get possession almost right away. The first period soon ends, with the teams even at two each, but the girls are leading in shots.

"That was great girls!" I tell the team by the bench, "If you finish this game the way you started it, you can win!"

And they do. The girls go into the second and third, playing with confidence and as a team, taking home a win. When the buzzer goes off, the score board shows a 5-2 win in our favor.

"Go congratulate your goalie, girls!" I yell at them. Once we've shook hands with the boys, the girls head into the locker room and I follow them. They get undressed, happy smiles and cheers filling the tiny space as they do. Once they are all out, I lock the room, the grin on my face not having the slightest chance of falling off. I head out to the lobby once more, exchanging my keys back, my small bag slung over my shoulder. I walk out of the lobby and into rink, not quite ready to go home yet. I know it's open skate time, it always is at 6. I lace my skates up once more, grinning an excited grin as I step onto the ice. I sigh in content at the sight of only about 10 people, taking the chance to skate backwards. I speedily pass a girl of stumbling girls, making most of them squeal in terror. I laugh as one of them falls, causing her and her friends to shoot me harsh glares. Oops. 

I continue around the rink, sending my open skate monitor-Alexander-a grin and wave. He waves back, speeding up to skate forward in front me.

"Having fun?" I ask him, already knowing how much he hates this part of the job here. He sends me a mock glare, hiding a smile.

"So much fun," he mutters sarcastically, making me laugh.

 "Well it just got better," I joke, spinning around to skate forwards beside him, "You can skate with me."

"Yeah, SO  much better," he jokes, making me punch his shoulder. He laughs, pushing me back. We continue to skate in a comfortable silence, until a chorus of laughter and a yell fills the ice rink, drawing our attention to the other end of the rink. A group of boys laugh, all but one of them sitting on the ice, one flat on his back.

"I will be right back," I tell Alexander, and he nods, so I take it as my cue to skate over to the group. A boy with a familiar head of curls lays on his back, while three of the other four surround him on their butts.

"Lyndsay?" Harry asks from his position on the cold ice. I only smirk, shaking my head as I hold out a hand for him to take. He gratefully takes it, and he stands, stable on his skates. The others get up, and we all just kind of stand their awkwardly.

"So," I say, "Might I ask why you are here again? We do have a mall, you know?"

"We know," Louis says, "But the girls here are crazy."

"Trust me, I know," I groan, remembering Family Relations today.

"Why are YOU here?" Zayn asks, tilting his head to the side in curiosity.

"I'm always here," I laugh, "but I'm here today because I had to coach earlier today."

"Coach?" Liam asks, "Coach what?"

"I coach the girls' U-12 hockey team," I say, earning five shocked faces.

"Cool," Niall grins, making me roll my eyes jokingly.

"Yup," I grin, "but, hey, I was supposed to be home as soon as the game ended, so I'm gonna head home."

They all nod understandingly, "It was great seeing you again," Liam says, all the other boys nodding in agreement.

"Hey! Lyndsay!" Harry calls before I turn to get off the ice, "Could I get your number?"

I sit there for a minute, my brain attempting to process the question. I nod, handing over my phone, still awkwardly quiet after he has handed it back. I give a small smile before stepping off the ice. I hurry out of the rink, my brain slow and hazy. Just as I start my car, the warm air hitting my cheeks, do I form a coherent thought.

Did I just give Harry Styles my phone number?

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