Well. This is a fanfiction. So quite obviously, I don't own Dave Silk. He's old now anyways. But Bobby Hanson is damn good looking, so if anyone knows a way to hook that up, then by all means, fill me in. Anyways. This isn't a story about Miracle as much as it is about Dave. Yeah, I'll follow the movie to the extent of the timeline and all, but I've gotten a little sick of fics where people basically type out the movie script. Alright, well you know what to do. Read, review and so on.
Thanks guys!
AO
Dave Silk crashed into my life, quite literally, and managed to turn everything I knew upside down. Hockey players from Boston were jerks and arrogant as all hell. I was just a girl from Minnesota who thought she knew better.
My alarm didn't go off that morning. Every other day, it would ring obnoxiously at 6:15AM so that I could have a good amount of time for a run, shower and breakfast and still make it to my anatomy class by 8:30 without a rush. But not that morning.
My eyes blinked open to see a flashing 12:00 glare back at me from the alarm clock on my bedside table. My eyes widened and I shot out of bed. I looked out the windows of my bedroom. The sun was shining, and that couldn't be a good sign. I flipped the covers off me and ran through my apartment, pulling on clothes and shoes as fast as possible. The clock in the kitchen told me that it was 7:48AM, meaning I would be hard pressed to get across the city in time. Traffic in St. Paul wasn't kind to those in a rush. I grabbed my car keys and a blueberry muffin from the fridge and bounded out my front door.
I had made it halfway downtown, stuck in ridiculous traffic. The July heat made the standstill unbearable. I couldn't turn on my air conditioning, or else I'd run out of gas before I even made it to the U.
I saw the opportunity to break out of the long line of traffic that had been caused by a series of red lights and took a quick left, breaking away from the line of cars cutting through the city. A few cars ahead of me had the same idea and we sped down the nearly empty street, glad to be away from the parking lot of the main streets. A mile or so later, I watched the upcoming light turn yellow and started slowing down. The car that had been in front of me hadn't noticed and sped through the light without even attempting to decelerate. Across the intersection, on the other side of the street, a boy carrying a hockey bag and stick had begun crossing. I saw him glance at the walk light across the street, but not to his left where the line of traffic would cross his path. The pedestrian light was flashing the go ahead, and that's exactly what he did. Neither the boy nor the driver had looked, and neither had anticipated.
"Oh my God." I whispered, and by then, it was too late.