Melting Tempers~
Her toes were cold. And she so did not want to be where she was. Still, she sat, with a hardcover book balanced in her lap and her iPod shooting happy tones straight into her brain. The teenage girl's foot tapped jauntily against the metal bleachers in time.
Her butt hurt, too.
The person in front of her turned around slightly, a look of confusion spreading across the woman's face. She was probably wondering what the frail, ink-haired girl was doing there. Sometimes, the girl asked herself the very same question.
She hated this game. It was bestial at best and hard to watch. You could barely even see the thing they were chasing after half the time. But, she had to be there. She always had to be there. Her gray gaze turned towards the scoreboard. 3rd period, 3 minutes and 45 seconds. She was almost free. Almost.
Grumbles broke out among the other spectators. "Not again."
"It happens every game."
"That boy should really learn to control his temper."
"Beatles is at it again."
The girl, separate from all the other bleacher occupants, but obviously there for some reason, calmly closed her book. A faint, faint look of annoyance crossed her cute face as she paused her iPod and stood up on her row of stands. Gloved hands rubbed together in order to create warmth in the freaking icebox they all sat in. "WALLABEE BEATLES! YOU PUT THAT STICK DOWN THIS INSTANT!"
Somewhere between 10 and 20 sets of incredulous eyeballs turned to meet the petite Asian girl. Kuki Sanban waved enthusiastically down at the sheet of ice, where a boy with blonde hair sticking out of his helmet and the name "Beatles" stamped across her back in bold, black letters was being pushed into the penalty box. Of course, they were all much too far away to tell, but the boy's blue eyes were rolling. Although, somewhere in their depths was thankfulness and the knowledge that his penalty could've been so much worse.
There was only one person that could calm Wally Beatles' firecracker temper. And she was, yet again, sitting on the bleachers with a book placed on her knees and an iPod in her ears. Kuki had done her job for the game. Her toes were still cold, though.
A/N: I, like our dear friend Kuki, hate hockey. So, of course, my sister plays. We went to one of her games tonight and all I got out of it was this fic. Not a bad trade off, I suppose. :D