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.

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3. The Text Message

"Lyndsay," my friend Emily says in a serious tone, "this is nothing to joke about."

"I'm serious Emily!" I whine at her for the billionth time, "why would I joke about giving my phone number to a member of a world-famous boy band that I fantasize about?!"

"No way!" Emily shrieks, beginning to freak out, "OMG!"

"I know!" I yell back at her over the phone, beginning to bounce around on my bed over the only thing I ever become totally girly over. You have to realize, I grew up with a TON of brothers. Like, a lot. I have three biological brothers, and when my parents divorced, I got two step-brothers, and half-brother, and two step-sisters, but one of them was already moved out. So, I guess you could say I'm a tad bit of a tomboy. 

"Has he texted you yet?" she demands giddily. I sigh, the only part of the situation that makes it's perfection falter.

"No," I groan, flopping backwards onto my bed.

"I'm coming over," she says seriously, ending the call before I can either confirm or protest her statement. Soon enough, a tall blonde girl that I associate with daily barges into my bedroom. She looks at me before we both erupt in giddy laughs. I laugh , moving over to make room for her on my large bed. 

"This is so cool!" she says, laying down next to me, "How on earth did you meet One Direction in this damn town?"

"The ice rink," I laugh, already knowing she's going to send me a shocked look, "I know. I ran into them last Sunday at open skate--literally. And then, yesterday, I stayed for open skate after the U-12 game was over."

"How did that go, by the way?"

"We crushed 'em," I smirk in a still present sense of victory, "Five to two. They didn't have a chance."

"Nice," she grins, and I plug in my iPod, both of us deciding to sing obnoxiously loud, earning a loud bang on the conjoined wall that belongs to my older brother, Josh. We pay no attention to it, only stopping when a phone vibration fills the room, only faintly heard over the loud music. I blindly grope my bed blankets, my hand finally wrapping around my phone and pulling it closer to see the screen. An unknown number has texted me. Let's just hope it isn't a murderer. I open it up, and scream falling out of my mouth as I read the text.

"What?!" Emily demands, bolting upright on my bed.

"Harry texted me!" I yell, as my eyes scan over the text once more. I mean, sure, it only said, 'Hey Lyndsay, it's Harry', but hey, it's something.

"No way!" Emily screams, pulling my wrist over to her face so she can read the text. 

"Let go!" I laugh, "I kinda wanna reply!"

Emily laughs with me, releasing my wrist, and I hastily slide my screen up to have access to the keyboard. I type out a quick, 'Hey Harry, I see i typed in the right number', and hit the send button. I play my music again, not wanting any questions asked by  Emily. I save his number as a contact, smiling. We start to belt out the songs again, my phone vibrating once more. I open it up:

From: Harry

So it would seem. What are you up to?

I think for a minute, contemplating whether my weird behavior with my friend is something I should really attempt to share with THE Harry Styles. I shrug, figuring I've got nothing to lose. I think about it for another minute before typing out a message.

To: Harry

Just singing unnecessarily loud with my best friends who is silently squealing over our conversation. So...yeah, what are you doing?

I send it and suddenly get a swat to the shoulder, making me turn to glare at my expectant best friend. I raise an eyebrow at her, only to receive one of  those 'really? just tell me' looks. I just shrug, a small smile tugging at my lips. Harry and I text back and forth for a while, Emily and I still singing, until the clock hits noon, and my dad's voice fill the house.

"Lyn!" he yells, "You need to go coach!"

I groan, standing and remembering my plans for the day. My game for the weekend isn't until tomorrow, but U-12 have an actual league game today. I give Emily a look.

"You wanna come sit on the bench during the game?" I ask, earning an eager nod, making me laugh. I slip on my coach's jacket and moccasins, dashing upstairs with Emily hot on my heels. We land on the main floor, and Dad hands me my keys before pushing Emily and I out of the front door. We dash out to my car and hop in. I start it and we sit for a minute, allowing it to heat up, before I pull out of the driveway and turn down the road in the direction of the ASC. Once we pull into the lot, I toss Emily my keys, telling her to go get the girls a locker room. She heads to the desk as I walk into the rink, headed for the announcer's box. The man in the box must recognize me as the coach, because as soon as I jump down into the tunnel to get on the ice, he hands me the score sheet and a pen. I write down my team member's names and numbers before handing back. As I turn down the tunnel to go to the locker rooms, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

From: Harry

Hello?

Oops, I must have forgot to text him back last time.

To: Harry

Sorry, I didn't see your text! I need to go though. U-12 has a game going on soon and I need to coach. Text ya later?

I press send as I enter the locker room, grinning as I see Emily underneath the pile that is my team.

"Okay, girls," I laugh, "hop off of Em. You need to get dressed. Are you ready for today? Ya focused?"

They climb off of her, and all sit down by their bags, and send me a chorus of assuring comments as they begin to get ready. 

"Okay," I tell the girls, beginning to walk out of the locker room as my phone buzzes, making me loose my focus, "Um . . . just-be ready in 20. . ."

"Who's texting you?" teases the oldest girl on my team, Riley,and she's almost 13.

"Nobody," I tell her in an attempt to sound causal, but failing as the response comes out too quickly. Damn it. 

"It's a boy, isn't it?" she carries on, making the girls let out a chorus of 'OH's. I roll my eyes.

"Just get ready, or we will being skating lines on Monday."

That sure does shut them up. I give a victorious smirk before walking out of the locker room with Emily trailing behind. I pull out my phone, not picking my head up, already knowing how to get to the lobby. Once we get there, I open up my phone, reading the text that awaits me.

From: Harry

Sounds great! Good luck!

I smile, not bothering to send a text back, and turn to look at Emily. 

"You sure you won't get bored on the bench?" I ask her, giving her a semi-concerned look.

"No!" she assures me, "It will be cool, and I've never been on a hockey bench before. It's something new!"

I laugh at her enthusiasm, and we begin to make small talk until I see that is has indeed been 20 minutes since we left the locker room. We head back, and as I enter the locker room, I sigh in relief when I see that all of the girls are ready. 

"Okay, girls!" I yell as I walk over to the hockey whiteboard on the wall by the bathroom door, "Focus! It's time to get ready to play!"

I pull out a whiteboard marker, writing a 1, 2, and 3 on the board that hangs on the wall next to the locker room bathroom.

"Alright," I say to the waiting girls, "Watertown is ranked number two in the league. So, that said, what are our three goals for the game today?"

"Confidence!" screams out one of the girls.

"That's a good one!" I tell her, writing it in the number one slot, "Two more."

"Play as a team!" yells out another voice. I nod, writing that down as well, right underneath of the first goal.

"One more," I tell the girls, surprised by their enthusiasm for today's game.

"Good shots and passes!" yells Riley.

"Yes!" I cheer, "that is awesome! We hit that really hard in practice this week, and I know that you girls are capable of doing a great job of this. Now, how do we plan on getting more than just one shot off?"

"Crash the net!" yell all of the girls, making me grin, 100% confident that the girls can take this game.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"That was great girls!" I yell as we get back into the locker room, the girls tired and happy about their much earned victory, "You guys just beat the number two team 4 to 2!"

They girls cheer, and Emily and I leave the locker room to let the team hang out happily. I head out to the lobby, pulling my phone out to text Harry.

To: Harry

Hey! The game just got over!

I send the text, slipping my phone into my pocket. Soon, all of the girls have filed out of the locker room, and are now headed home or to lunch with their families. I soon have my keys back, am given my copy of the score sheet from one of the men that was in the box, and Emily and I are back inside my car. My phone buzzes just before I pull out of the lot, and I put the car back in park to answer it.

From: Harry

Cool, how did it go? Do you want to go out to lunch with me and the boys?

I let out a sharp squeal, reading the text a million more times, not believing my eyes. I just got invited to lunch with One Direction. Stay calm, you're good.

To: Harry

Sounds great! We won 4 to 2 by the way. Where do you want to go out for lunch?

 

 

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