Hey, I'm back! I know it's been longer then usual and I'm really sorry for not updating sooner. You guys still gave me a bunch of great reviews and support for last chapter though and I seriously cannot thank you enough for that!

Also, some of you guys were concerned with me cancelling the story. The answer is no, as long as you guys are interested in reading it, I will be happy to write for it :) That being said, I don't know how fast I'll be able to update. What I didn't know (last update when I misinformed y'all about me possibly being able to update faster) is that I would have two jobs this summer, which requires pretty much all day work. I understand that some of you are annoyed by the update speed but trust me, if I could update any faster I certainly would. But writing a lot isn't really a possibility at the moment.

Again, I'm really sorry for the slow updates and I can't thank you guys enough for the amazing reviews despite the wait I put you through. This chapter is the longest yet so hopefully it makes up for it!

As per request, lots of Navrina in the second half of this one. Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed. Without anymore wait, here's chapter nine :)

Stanley

"Ugh, its choking me." I complain to Dad, running a finger between the suit collar and my neck.

Dad chuckles and shakes his head. "Ah the struggles of a man." He teases. "Now let's get you a tie." He shuffles out of my room to go grab a tie from his wardrobe since I don't own any. It's easy for him to laugh, he's still in his pyjamas and has the day off.

I sit back on the bed slouched, my body posture betraying the clean outfit I'm done up in. This week is a special week in our school. It's "Cup Week" as us students call it. The start of the first major hockey tournament of the school season. Well, really it's only two schools competing, but it is always labeled as three of the most important games of the year. It's a tournament that is held every year between our school and our biggest rivals; Mogadore Academy. Even the name sounds stupid, it's some preppy private school downtown, and it's safe to say the hatred is mutual.

Anyway, the occasion is so spectacular that our hockey coach makes all of the guys wear suits for the entire week, as though we would get more support if we look nice. Almost the entire school comes to the event anyway, nobody in their right mind would miss such a huge show down. They also wouldn't want to miss our victory, which will happen this year, for sure. Well I hope it will anyway, I'm pretty sure the win-lose ratio is about the same for both schools throughout the years, but both of our teams (girls and boys) are the best they have ever been since I got here, so I think we have a good chance.

Dad comes back in the room with a black tie to match the dark grey pants and jacket he picked out for me. He eyes my slumped posture and gestures for me to straighten up while handing me the long tie. I stare at it in his hands for a second before taking it, unsure of what to do. I put the stupid thing around my neck examine the two pieces that hang down, holding them up close to my face.

"Are you gonna help me or what?" I ask Dad, who has been standing by the side of my bed and watching my struggle with an amused smile. He chuckles but waves me over anyway.

"You'd think after three years you would have figured this out by now." He chides when I stand in front of him.

"Why would I when you always do it for me anyway?" I retort as he starts with it. He doesn't say anything back, instead he yanks the tie a little too hard, making me wince.

"Oops, my bad." He feigns guilt and I roll my eyes, causing him to smirk.

Dad does a complicated looking series of loops and pulls until the tie finally looks normal, then pulls it up so it sits tightly against my throat. He pats my shoulder before standing back and admiring his work with a proud smile.

"Look at you, looking all sophisticated." He teases.

"I feel like I'm suffocating."

"Stop being so dramatic, beauty hurts." He retorts, laughing when I shoot him a glare. I start pulling at the white dress shirt that's tucked into my pants but I stop when Dad raises his eyebrows at me, suddenly serious. "Don't touch anything." He warns, obviously not wanting me to wrinkle my perfectly ironed clothes.

"Whatever." I sigh. I look at the clock and decide it's time to go. I turn around and grab my bag that's on the floor, slouched with papers falling out of the top. It looks about as dejected as I feel. "Well I'll be off." I say, slinging it over my shoulder and attempting to walk past Dad, but he stays in place. "What?"

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asks, nodding to the bed.

I turn to find my suit jacket laying there, perfectly folded in half. I reluctantly go back and take it, roughly shoving each arm in the sleeves to make my displeasure known. When I'm done, I gesture to myself and send Dad a pointed look. He laughs and steps to side, allowing my exit. I grab my bag and head out.

"Have a nice day!" Dad calls.

I roll my eyes even though he can't see me and make my way down the hallway, catching sight of myself on the mirror on the way. I don't know why we have a full-length body mirror in the hallway but whatever. I don't even look like myself with the smart grey suit on and neat, smoothed out hair. I realize with horror that I kind of look like dad, just with longer hair and a shaved face instead of a full beard. My eyes widen and I quickly turn away, rushing down the stairs before I can see anymore of my reflection.

I stare at my side of the key rack where two sets of keys are hung. One for Dad's truck (which is basically mine since he only ever takes his car) and one for my motorcycle. I know Dad would want me to take the truck to protect my suit against the wind, but I head out through the door with my bike keys anyway since the weather is nice for once. I do take a jacket though because I know I would be in deep trouble if didn't at least put something over the extensive attire. It's not long before I hop on the bike and realize I forgot my helmet.

Yup, today is turning out great.

-page break-

Alright, I love hockey but I officially hate Cup Week. I irritably shove an orange streamer out of my face as I walk through the doors of the school, stalking down the hallways to avoid the attention my outfit brings me. Usually I don't mind attention, but my mood is a little less then shitty today so I'd be lying if I said I wasn't bothered by the constant feel of people's eyes on me as I walk.

When I see the reflection of my scowling face in one of the windows I know I need to lighten up. Being upset because of a suit is just dumb, right? I remind myself why I'm wearing the ridiculous outfit and try to get excited for the game. I make an effort to mask my face into a more neutral expression and try to travel in a little more of a relaxed stride, realizing that people are probably just looking at me because I'm walking like I'm on a mission. It works a little, but I still can't help the flash of annoyance that runs through me every time I turn my head and feel the collar of my shirt digging into my neck.

I reach my locker and take off the lock, swinging it open and accidentally making it clang loudly with the force of my pull. The noise causes a couple people to look over and I internally curse as I rip off my school bag and violently shove it on the hook.

"Woah, who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?" Joseph leans on the locker along side of mine, smirking when he sees the scowl that has made its way back onto my face. "Cheer up! It's Cup Week after all." He reminds me.

"Easy for you to say, you don't have to wear this-" I gesture angrily at myself as I try to come up with a word. "This crap!" I finish shaking my head. Joseph eyes widen and he takes a step back.

"Woah dude, calm down." He says. "You know, a lot of people would kill for that suit."

I sigh but know he's right. I'm lucky to be able to afford a nice attire, the least I can do is refrain from complaining about it. I nod and focus on calming down.

"There we go." Joseph soothes jokingly, patting my back. "Deep breaths man."

I roll my eyes and he laughs. Turns out I have math first so I grab my books, Joe grimacing sympathetically when he sees the subject. I don't actually completely hate it anymore since I've started to understand it, but I nod sadly anyway since I don't think anybody wants to have math first period on a Monday, including me.

The bell rings and I make my way to class while Joseph goes off to his. I see John on the way up to math, wearing a suit like me but his is black and he actually looks like he's comfortable in it.

"Well look at that, I didn't know you could ever look smart but here you are." He jokes once I get up to him.

I chuckle. "Compliment taken, insult ignored."

John laughs but doesn't say anything else as we enter class. Weird, Mr. Collins isn't here yet, and he's almost always early. John goes to his seat and I take mine next to Riley, who arches an eyebrow at my outfit as I lay my books on the desk.

"Well don't you look rather dapper today." She teases with a wry smile on her face.

"Well I do try." I reply, grinning at her as I take my seat, my mood suddenly improved. "I'd rather be comfortable though." I eye her light orange hoodie, and jeans.

"Hey, we had a dress code too." She defends, gesturing to the writing across the chest of the sweater that says 'Legacy Lions Hockey'.

"Hardly." I scoff. She laughs causing me to grin again in an instant.

Our begins of a conversation stops as a young woman saunters into the class, her back straight and high heels clicking. She's wearing leggings and blouse, and her dyed black hair swings around her as she walks, brown showing at the roots. She obviously thinks she's the best person on earth while all I see is an arrogant face, and not a very pretty one at that. She looks like she just got out of school herself, and scans over us all with an expression of superiority. In conclusion, she looks stuck-up and will probably be a downer on my day.

"We have a substitute?" I groan. I never thought I would be upset to see the absence of Mr. Collins, but I would probably cheer if he walked through the door right now if it meant I didn't have to deal with this woman.

Riley nods. "Yeah, I knew by the coat and the bag." She explains, pointing to a colourful purse on the floor and a feminine looking jacket that's laid neatly across the back of Mr. Collins' chair.

"Huh." I lean back in my chair and wonder why I never noticed before. "Perceptive." I note.

"Are you kidding? You'd have to be blind to not notice that purse." She says quietly, as though our substitute could hear from over at the desk. She's looking at herself on the reflection of the computer anyway so I doubt she would notice even if she was closer.

"Yes, it is quite the statement isn't it?" I reply with mock seriousness. "Though it could be pulled off with the right accessories." I muse, looking sideways at Riley. She doesn't look at me, I know her stoic facade would wash away if she did.

"You can't have the right accessories when the purse is the accessory." She argues, her voice going deeper at 'right accessories', which I think is supposed to be an imitation of me.

"Are you mocking me?" I accuse.

"Maybe." She catches my eye and tries to be serious but ends up grinning anyway, biting her lip as though it could keep the smile down. I've come to learn that it doesn't take much to get that reaction from her.

I grin myself at the sight of it, but it quickly fades as our substitute steps in front of the class and clears her throat to get everyone's attention, as if that would work with a room full of high schoolers. Eventually she yells, "Guys!" Her voice rising up at the end like it's a question, but I think that's just the way she talks. The new presence causes most people to pay attention but there are still a few murmurs that can be heard at the back of the class. She doesn't seem deterred and introduces herself as Ms. Cameron.

As she turns around to start teaching, I turn to Riley and make a gun with my hand and put it in my mouth, pushing down my thumb as if I was pulling a trigger. I grin when she stifles a laugh.

Apparently we're starting a new unit today, which basically just means she'll recap what we already know then give us a work sheet. Because of this, I naturally don't pay attention, bouncing my pencil off the desk by the eraser or tugging at my shirt collar. It's almost as annoying as the woman at the front of the classroom. I start to bounce my pencil harder so it'll go higher, sometimes toppling over before I can catch it, making quite the noise in the otherwise quiet classroom. Eventually Ms. Cameron starts to look back from the white board each time it falls, scouring the classroom with a gaze that I think is supposed to be intimidating, but she can't seem to realize it's me.

Just as I start to make it game, Riley reaches over snatches the pencil out of my hand before it can clatter to the desk again. She laughs quietly at the look I send her.

"She looks so confused, it's a sin." She defends, the smile on her face mixed with both amusement and sympathy. I roll my eyes but I can't help smiling a little at Riley's defence of the obviously bitchy teacher. I guess she wants to give her a chance.

She gives me a warning look before slowly lifting her hand with my pencil between two fingers, offering it to me. I'm about to take it when it suddenly slips from her hand and lands on the desk, making the same loud sound it had when I was dropping it.

"Frig." Riley mutters and rushes to pick it up, right at the moment Ms. Cameron decides to turn around.

I'm about to warn Riley, but our teacher's eyes land on her before I can get a word out. Riley finally manages to pick the pencil up and holds it up to me again, but it's Ms. Cameron who plucks it out of her grasp, now standing in front of our two desks with a smug gaze angled at the girl next to me. Riley looks subjected when she meets our teacher's stare, a little pink in the cheeks but not really seeming surprised.

"So it was you." Ms. Cameron states, obviously looking for an explanation. Ironic since Riley was the one trying to help her. I immediately feel guilty for doing it in the first place. I open my mouth to defend her but Riley talks before I can say anything.

"Yeah, sorry Miss." She apologizes, my eyebrows involuntarily raising in surprise as she takes the blame. "It won't happen again." She promises.

Our substitute's face betrays a shocked expression, probably surprised by the ease and quickness of the apology. Usually teacher's would take the victory and move on, but Ms. Cameron's inexperience must push her to continue with the interrogation, because her face is now back to the smug look she had when she came over.

"Well, since you were obviously paying attention I guess you wouldn't mind finding the answer for the question on the board?" She says extending a hand with a white board marker in it. I have to hold back a laugh at the victorious look on her face. She doesn't know that she just chose the best math student in the grade to 'humiliate'.

The tiniest smile flickers briefly across Riley's face before she quickly morphs it into a nervous frown and she nods solemnly, taking the marker and standing up. Her act looks so real that I almost believe she's nervous.

Riley uncaps the marker as she walks to the whiteboard and studies the question. I think it's algebra but I can't be sure. A note of confusion strikes in me when she doesn't immediately begin her workings on the board, instead just standing there with the marker poised to write, but she's not doing anything. Ms. Cameron's smirk grows after a few long seconds of silence, and she faces the class.

"Alright, does anybody else-"

"Three point two." Riley's voice stops Ms. Cameron from continuing her sentence, and she turns to the teenager with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" She asks, obviously irritated by the interruption.

"The answer." Riley replies, then turns to the board. "X equals... three point two." She speaks slowly as the marker in her hand struggles to keep up with her words. With a final squeak of the dry erase pen, she steps back to reveal no workings. Just simply X= 3.2.

"How do you know that? You didn't do any workings." Our teacher asks suspiciously.

"Oh, I did it in my head." Riley answers simply. I grin at the dumbfounded expression on Ms. Cameron's face. Riley raises her eyebrows in an expression of innocence. "I can write out the workings though, if it'll help you understand."

I hear a few snickers throughout the class and I can't stop my eyebrows from shooting up in surprise at her words. Up until now I've only ever known Riley as extremely kind and compliant, I would've even said she was a bit of a pushover. I've never seen this side of her that gives as good as she gets, although her way of talking back is much kinder than what most students would say in an argument. But I think her genuine looking innocence might actually annoy Ms. Cameron more than a biting insult would.

"I don't need the workings to understand the question." Our substitute scoffs in response, getting a little angry now that her plan didn't work out as she thought it would. "I'll have you know that I have three university degrees." She continues as she watches Riley calmly walk back to her desk.

"Wow, that's a really fine achievement Ms. Cameron. Well done." She replies earnestly, sitting down again next to me. I arch an eyebrow at her but she's too busy embarrassing our teacher to notice. "But, I'll have you know that you got number two wrong." She smiles reassuringly at our teacher's heightened anger. "Don't worry Miss, everyone makes mistakes. It's only natural."

Ms. Cameron glares daggers at her before going over to where question two is written on the board. "The answer is seven by the way." Riley calls helpfully as our substitute starts to erase the board. After a few laughs are emitted from a couple people in the room, she freezes with the eraser in her hand and turns in our direction again. It's not long before she stalks her way over and stands in front of our desks again, her hands on her hips and her glare once again settled on the girl next to me.

"What is it? You think you're smart now because you've corrected me once?" She sneers. "Well let me remind you that you're not the teacher of this class, young lady. Is your name on the door over there?" She points to the door, where "Mr. Collins" is engraved on a small piece of metal along with the room number.

"No." Riley shrugs, looking up at her calmly. She raises an eyebrow. "Is yours?"

A chorus of "ooh"s is heard from the class at the well aimed dig. She really did ask for it. Ms. Cameron clenches her jaw but can't seem to find anything to respond with and makes her way over the the desk. She pulls a short, white slip of paper out of the drawer and grabs a pen. Riley's smile does lessen a little when she sees the paper, everyone knows what it is. A detention slip.

"What's your name?" Ms. Cameron asks.

"Riley Pierce." She replies, then start to spell it out. "R... I... L-"

"I think I can figure out how to spell a name." Our teacher snaps back, scribbling something on the paper. While she's doing that, I look to Riley with smirk. She shrugs nonchalantly but I can see a smile creeping up on her face too, despite the situation.

"I thought you felt sorry for her." I accuse

"Yeah, I did." She says, then shrugs. "I don't now."

"Well that's obvious." I laugh and she does to, though she does look a little guilty. I don't really know why though. I wouldn't feel any remorse, but I think we've both made it clear how different we are from each other by now.

Ms. Cameron comes over and slaps the slip of paper on Riley's desk with a glare, not wasting any time before walking away. Riley looks at the paper for a second before laughing and holding it up for me to see. I look closer to see that "Mouthing off" is written as the reason for detention. I chuckle and giver her a 'really?' look which just she replies by nodding with another laugh. I also notice that the detention time is until 4:00 which sucks since school ends at 3:00. Shit, I really am an asshole.

I see our substitute go to row of desks next to us with a stack of paper, handing a pile to the first desks for them to pass back. She gets over to our row and sets the pile on my desk heavily. "Take one and pass it back." She mumbles, already moving to the next row.

"Ms. Cameron, wait a second." I say suddenly, the words out of my mouth before I can think about it. She stops and turns to me expectantly. "I just wanted to let you know that it was me. You know, dropping the pencil." I explain. "Riley took the blame but obviously your three university degrees didn't make you smart enough to figure it out." Her face scrunches up in anger and I can't help but smirk. "Well, it's either that or you're just really stupid."

I lean back in my chair as a few laughs sound through the class and raise a challenging eyebrow at her as she stares me down, an expression of pure hatred on her face. She must be lost on something to say because instead of responding, she slams the rest of the papers down on the final row of desks and heads to her own table. It's the first time I've ever grinned as a teacher pulled out a little white slip.

"Name." She orders.

"Stanley Worthington." I answer helpfully and without complaint, which she seems confused about but quickly jots down the information anyway. I take it with a smirk when she hands it to me. Riley gives me a weird look when I face her.

"Why'd you do that? You were in the clear."

"Consider it my way of apologizing since it was my fault both of us are going."

She shakes her head. "Sure, it was nice of you but it really would have been in your best interest to keep quiet."

"Nah, you'd be bored without me there." I tease, grinning at her.

She smiles and rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything, looking unsure. About what I don't know. She helps me with the work sheets until the bell rings and we both leave, a heavy glare from our substitute following us on the way out.

"See you at three." I say to her as I see Maren and John start to catch up.

Riley pauses before responding. "Yeah, see ya."

Maren reaches us and I hang back so I can walk with John instead, though I do keep watching Riley for a reason I can't identify. Maren says something to her that causes her to roll her eyes before responding with a laugh through her words. I'm silently amazed at how she manages to always be so happy, a lot like Joseph actually. Though her seemingly never ending cheerfulness doesn't get on my nerves like my friend's sometimes does.

When I finally zone back into the world, I notice John is looking ahead too, but not at Riley. Oh god no, please tell me he's not into Maren.

-page break-

With the smile on my face as I walk through the halls, nobody would ever know I was on my way to detention. Even with the suit still being uncomfortable as all hell, and the attention in the halls drawn by the outfit, a grin is still on my face and I don't know why.

Everyone is headed towards the busses now, or cars or whatever, so there's not really that many people left in the halls as I happily make my way to room 108, where detention is always held. I would know. I walk into the room and hand my slip to a teacher I don't know. He takes it with a bored expression and tells me to sit down, but I know the drill now anyway. It's far from my first time in detention. A couple of other kids come and sit down, but I don't care about any of them until I see a shorter figure with a brown bun on her head and an orange hoodie coming in. Surprisingly, she looks like she knows the drill too. She's full of surprises today.

I grin at her as she spots me and she sends me a weird look before sitting down in the desk ahead of me. "You look awfully happy to be here." She observes.

"Oh you know." I shrug. "Sun shining, birds chirping." She laughs shortly and arches an eyebrow at me as if reminding me that we're trapped inside an intellectual prison for the next hour. As though I could have forgotten.

Almost as soon as we start talking we're silenced by the teacher on duty before he goes back to reading his newspaper. Riley turns around in her seat so she's facing the front of the room, and away from me.

So we wait. Nobody is allowed to talk, only do homework. And since I don't have any homework I care to do at the moment, I'm not allowed to do anything. Since I'm in the back, I'm able to lean my head on the wall to get in a comfortable position, but everyone else assumes the 'arms folded for a pillow' position as they wait out their sentence. And we wait, for what seems like a long time. I don't really comprehend how bad I want to get out until I look at the clock after an eternity, only to find that no more than twenty minutes have passed.

I try not to look at the clock since time seems to pass slower when I'm staring at it. My eyes automatically settle in front of me, where Riley has her head resting on her desk, using her arms as a pillow. I would think she's asleep if not for her bouncing knee which tells me she's very much awake. She always seems to be moving in some way. If she's not bouncing her knee then she's fiddling with her pencil or doing something else.

I hear a crinkling of paper as the teacher on duty folds the newspaper in half before laying it down on the desk and standing up, stretching a little. "I'll be back in a bit." He says tiredly, walking out of the classroom.

Everyone who looked up when he moved puts their heads down on the desks again, and some begin talking to one another now that there's nobody here to stop them. I'm about to lean back myself when Riley turns in her seat so she's facing me.

I smirk a little. "Couldn't get enough of me could you?"

She rolls her eyes with a short laugh, then looks to the doorway the teacher just left through. "You bored?" She asks.

"Is that even a question?" I counter, crossing my arms.

"Right, yeah." She replies slowly, looking down with a sheepish smile. "That was a stupid question, I don't know why I said it." She shakes her head and I laugh as she rolls her eyes at herself.

"Anyway..." she continues, mock glaring at my laugh. "I think I'm gonna go."

My eyebrows pinch together in confusion and I make a show of looking at the clock on the wall, where it clearly reveals it's not near time to go yet. "It's only 3:24."

"I'm aware of the time." She says with half a smile. "But I also know that I have to be at the rink for five thirty, and I don't have time to get out of here and eat supper and get there in time." She explains. I remember the girls hockey game is at 6:00.

"I think you're over-estimating how long it'll take you to eat supper." I point out.

"Maybe." She admits, grabbing her bag on the floor with an arched eyebrow in my direction. I grin.

"Alright. I'm coming." I decide, standing up to grab my bag and jacket. Riley sighs and looks up at me, unsure. "What?"

"I'm starting to think I'm a bad influence on you." She states. By now, almost everybody is looking at us, their attention drawn by our movement.

"I think it's the opposite." I retort.

One corner of her mouth turns up. "You'd be surprised." She counters, though it's under her breath. I don't think she meant for me to hear it.

We walk down the isle and nobody says anything as we pass, although I never expected them to anyway. I haven't skipped out of detention before and if I'm being honest, my heart is beating pretty hard and my palms are starting to get sweaty. C'mon man up, I think to myself as we make it to the doorway.

"Alright. So what's the plan, criminal?" I look over Riley's head as I speak and look both ways to watch for the teacher on duty.

She lets out a short, quiet laugh. "We go on as normal." She answers simply, walking through the doorway while I follow close behind. "The best way to not seem suspicious is to act like nothing's wrong."

"Does that come from experience?" I tease, though I'm also a little curious.

She doesn't answer, but that half-smile thing she does lights up her face again, but she quickly looks away. My heart beats a little faster as we get closer to the main entrance, she seems to be doing fine though. That is until the teacher that was watching us suddenly comes out of a room close ahead of us, now holding a donut in one hand.

"Was that door always there?" I ask, confused.

"Just keep walking."

Positive I'm walking towards certain death, I put a relaxed smile on my face anyway as we get closer to him. I keep glancing at him to see if he looks suspicious, and he does a little, studying us the way I'm studying him. When we get a few steps away, Riley puts a warm grin on her face.

"Hey Mr. Richards, you don't mind if we go a little early do you?" She asks as we go by. The smile must throw him off, because he returns the expression with a nod.

Just as we go past him, recognition dawns on his features and he starts to say something, but we speed past him and rush down the hallway. "Wait!" He shouts, but Riley pulls me into the lobby by my arm before I can do anymore but wave.

We jog to the rest of the way to the front doors and go through, into the unusually warm fall air. Our shoes scuff on the sidewalk as we slow down and eventually slow to walk. I expect to feel relief when we're clear from being caught but I don't. If anything, I'm even more nervous, as though he could pop out from the door at any second.

"And that's how you get out of detention." I announce. Riley laughs and I grin, securing the bag around my shoulder since it flopped around a little with the running. "I don't get it though. Wouldn't skipping out of detention just give you more detention?"

"Not under the right circumstances."

I raise my eyebrows at her. "What are you? Some type of mastermind?"

She laughs. "I think mastermind is a strong word." She replies jokingly. "No, I just know what you can get away with."

Before I can ask how, she slows down and stops on the sidewalk, leaving me on my route to the parking lot. I can hear the scraping of my dress shoes on the ground as I turn to her. "You know, staying at school after you just ditched is probably a bad idea." I warn with a smirk.

"I need to call my sister to pick me up." She explains, pulling her phone out of her bag.

"I can give you a ride." The words come from my mouth before I can think about them, but I'm glad I found something to say. She shakes her head anyway.

"No, it's fine really. I'll just-"

"Come on." I urge. "I really don't mind."

"I live fifteen minutes away." She argues.

"I live ten." I retort. She raises her eyebrows at me, achieving an expression of annoyance for a second before that familiar smile breaks out on her face like it does so often. I get a weird feeling in my stomach and I realize it's not skipping detention that's making me nervous. It's her.

"Can I trust you Stanley?" She teases, already starting to walk off the sidewalk. I freeze for a second, still in shock by my realization. Thankfully I manage to answer before I can look like too much of an idiot.

"Yes?" I answer uncertainly, a smirk on my face to hide the weird feelings going on inside of me.

We make it our way up the parking lot and I scan the vehicles, looking for Dad's truck. I internally curse as I remember I brought the motorcycle today.

"So which one is yours?" Riley asks, like she knows we're getting close.

"Um..." I don't really want to say it in fear she'll back out of the ride. I have to though. I clear my throat. "That one." I point to it and watch her eyes widen with disbelief.

"The motorcycle?"

"Yeah."

I know a lot of people don't care about bikes, but I love this thing. First of all, it's better looking than a lot of people I've seen. It's a sleek, shinny black, sporty design that looks killer on the road, especially on the highway. Second, it's awesome. I don't really know what else I can say.

I should apologize to her for not clarifying the vehicle in which I would be giving her a ride. Instead I say, "Never ridden on one before?"

She shakes her head and for a second she seems hesitant to get on. Then she shrugs. "There's a first time for everything." I grin at her quick compliance and we reach the bike. "Wow, this is an attractive vehicle." She comments. She might the only person who would ever use the word 'attractive' to describe a motorcycle.

"Much like its owner." I wink at her and a laugh is quick to make its way out of her. Despite how nonchalant she's acting about the whole thing, I can't help but notice it sounds a little nervous.

"Alright, first things first." I pull a spare helmet out of the pouch on the side of the bike that Dad told me to keep there for exactly this reason.

I hand the black helmet to her and takes it gingerly, looking it over. I put mine on while she takes her dark hair out of it's bun. It's hangs across her shoulders in wavy locks for a minute until she puts the helmet on over it. I go to put on my jacket until I remember another thing Dad told me to do if I ever gave a 'chick'-his words, not mine- a ride.

"Here." I hold the jacket out to her. She shakes her head immediately. "Don't even think about not taking it." I warn before she can say anything.

She narrows her eyes at me but takes it anyway, slipping it on. It's huge on her but despite the size, it still looks way better on her than it ever will on me. "What are you gonna wear then? Doesn't it get cold?"

I smirk even though she can't see my mouth through the helmet. "You can't freeze when your this hot." I gesture to my body and she rolls her eyes, but even with the helmet on I can tell she's grinning.

Without wasting anymore time, I hop on the bike and look back at her. "Whenever you're ready, R." I don't know why, but the nickname just slipped out of my mouth. Maybe it's because I've heard her friends call her that, I don't know. It sounds right though.

If she's surprised she doesn't show it and climbs on the backless seat behind me with minimal difficulty. "Ready?" I ask, shoving the key in but not turning it yet.

There's a pause. "Uh, what do I hold onto?"

It takes me a second to answer. "Me I guess."

"First time taking a passenger?" She asks, and the laugh is back there again, running through her words. I can't help but grin at it.

"There's a first time for everything." I repeat her earlier words, and start the bike before she can respond.

I put down the visor on my helmet, holding onto the handlebars after it clicks into place. I feel a gentle pressure on my sides that can only be from my passenger holding on, it's a hesitant grip though. That quickly changes as I suddenly pull out of the parking spot, and I feel her arms tighten, wrapping further around me at the sudden movement. I'm pretty sure I hear her curse under the helmet and I chuckle quietly.

She must hear me anyway because her grip loosens and sighs. "Oh shut up." She mutters, her voice muffled by the helmet. I can picture her rolling her eyes. "By the way, how were you planning on getting me home without knowing my address?"

Wow, I forgot the key reason she's on the bike in the first place. "With my incredible psychic skills." I answer.

"Uh huh, I'm sure." She says sarcastically, the proceeds to tell me her address. Which is fortunate because I seriously had no idea.

I turn right and give the bike a little gas so it can get us up to the speed limit fast, causing Riley to grip on tighter again. I can understand her nervousness, and if I'm being totally honest, I'm not completely calm either. This is the first time I've ever had a passenger on the bike after all. Though something in the back of my mind tells me that's not the only reason my stomach is doing flips.

My suit jacket flaps in the wind, the only thing keeping it from blowing up all together is Riley's arms around me that keeps it secure. I go fast, faster than I probably should considering I'm a little inexperienced when it comes to carrying people with me. I have to admit, I'm showing off a little by speeding around corners and just going at a high speed in general. Never is it dangerous though, well I don't think so anyway.

Pretty soon we get to her neighbourhood, and I go slower as we pass by the many small houses crammed into the space. The road is in pretty bad condition and I have to swerve around a couple potholes as we make our way up. After going down a couple streets, Riley points to tiny grey house with worn black shingles. Somebody is pulling into the driveway so I slow down to give them a chance to back in.

A woman with curly brown hair gets out of the car and blatantly eyes us as we approach, her arms crossed. I pull into the driveway and hold the bike up with my foot, giving Riley a chance to get off. The woman comes over slowly.

"Can I help you?" She asks accusingly, obviously not recognizing either of us. I notice how dark her eyes are, they're such a dark brown that you can barely see her pupils. It's surprisingly cool.

"Calm down, it's just me." Riley interjects. She takes off her helmet to reveal a now messy head of hair and a slightly annoyed expression. Me and the woman both look at each other in confusion, each of us wondering who the other is. "Stanley, this is my sister Stephanie. Stephanie, Stanley." Riley gestures between the two of us, handing her helmets back in the process.

I quickly take off my helmet and offer my hand, running my other one through my hair to straighten it out. "Stanley." I introduce.

"As I've gathered." She replies with a smirk. She shakes my hand.

Riley stands off to the side, watching the exchange. I take my hand away from Stephanie's and climb back on the bike. "Well, it's nice to meet you." I nod at Stephanie and she waves back, a little flirtatiously as I shove my helmet back on.

"Thanks for the ride." Riley says as start to back out of the driveway. She starts to walk away but her eyes widen suddenly as I'm almost at the street. "Wait!" She calls, jogging back up and pulling my jacket off in the process. We'd both forgotten she had it on.

She hands it to me and I take it smirking. "I thought you might want to keep it as a souvenir." I tease. She laughs and runs her fingers through her hair to get the tangles out as I shove on the jacket.

"Thanks, again." She says, then breaks into a smile. "It was fun."

I grin widely. "Anytime." I wink at her and she walks backwards with a chuckle. I'm almost onto the road when I hear her sister speak, probably thinking I'm out of earshot.

"He's hot." She says.

"You have a boyfriend." Riley reminds her. I start driving away but still hear what Stephanie responds with.

"So? I can look at the menu, I just can't order anything."

I almost drive into a pothole from laughing. But there's still another thing that's making me grin. Riley didn't deny the first statement.

Marina

The sound of the crowd overwhelms me as I walk into the arena. The two sides are jam packed, our side a sea of orange and brown, the other is mass of black taking up the seats. Almost everyone from the school is here, except maybe a few freshman. Even the parents show up, sitting in their own little section off to the side and far away as they can get from the teenagers. Unfortunately they can only move a couple metres from the screaming kids, as the sections are only separated by a narrow staircase. Because I'm lame, I usually sit with Katerina in the the parent section since I'm not really that into loud cheering. I don't know where to go right now and I stand at the bottom of the stairs lost. Katerina isn't here for this game because of work, so I'm a little stranded at the moment.

I deposited Maren and Riley at the change rooms about fifteen minutes ago and I wasted as much time as I could before coming to the stands to look for a place to ride out the hour and a half-ish of screaming and chants. I start to look for a familiar face in the crowd but stop myself as I realize how stupid it is. I don't talk to anybody other than my two best friends, with an acceptation of Joseph. I won't find anybody to sit with. Defeated, I start to make my way over to the parents section but stop when I feel my phone buzz in my hoodie pocket. It's a school hoodie because I figured I might as well show some spirit.

I look at my phone to find a text from Joseph. Look up and slightly to your right, it says.

I follow his directions and spot him by the rail, where people can stand on a track just above where the seats are. He's standing just above the student section. Relief fills me at finding somewhere to go, because even I would be uncomfortable watching the game alone with everyone screaming around me. He waves his arms wildly, probably drawing a lot of attention from other people as well as me. He only stops when I'm halfway up the steps and is assured I'm coming.

"Well hello, Marina of the Sea." He greets, grinning at me as he moves over to make room on the rail for me to lean on. He's with two other guys who are both dressed in suits, so they must be on the team. Their game is at 8:00.

He steps back so they're in clearer view. I wonder what he's doing until he speaks up. "Guys, this is Marina." He gestures to me, and I just smile, unsure of what to do. As usual he keeps talking to avoid any awkwardness. "Marina, this is John." He points to the blond one closest to him, who gives me a smile and a shakes my hand. Before Joseph, I never thought anyone shook hands in greeting anymore, but I guess there are more people like him. "And that's Stanley." He points to the other hockey player who I already knew was Stanley through Maren's tiffs.

Stanley grins at me. Quite the warm reaction to someone he just met. "Ah, the elusive Marina." He drawls. He ignores my confusion and sticks his hands out for me to shake. I do. "Nice to officially meet you."

"Elusive?" I repeat. I look to Joseph for an answer only to find him staring at the ice with a light shade of pink on his cheeks.

"Well you see..." Stanley starts, leaning ahead of John so he can talk to me. "Joseph here is always talking about you, so it's nice to put a face with the name." He explains.

I blush and Joseph does too, a deeper red now. "I don't always-"

"Yeah you do. Seriously dude, it's annoying." Stanley interrupts his defence with an eye roll. Beside Joseph, John presses his lips together to avoid smiling, but doesn't say anything. Joseph looks down and I feel more heat rise to my face too.

"I-um..." Joseph sends me a helpless look and I can't help but laugh, though I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a little thrill at Stanley's statement. My reaction seems to ease his nerves a little because he grins too, albeit a little sheepishly.

The moment is ended when a huge cheer erupts from our side of the stadium. I can hear people banging on pots and pans held over their heads, and I watch as our hockey team skates onto the ice. The screams go on for long time until all the players are out onto the ice, and some people even remain cheering long after. Since we're in the students section, I cheer with them, my cry blending right in with the rest of the noise.

The cheering stops abruptly as the the other team enters the ice, their jerseys pitch black and a dull red. Booing replaces the noise, so loud that I can barely hear the cheers from the mogadore side. I join in and so does Joseph, John, and Stanley being the loudest.

"Assholes." He mutters once the crowd has calmed down. A long mat is rolled out onto the ice and a few people step out onto it as the teams line up in either side of it. A man grabs a mic and I almost groan. The first game always gets off to a late start because of the opening ceremony, which is always a blast. Note the sarcasm.

The man talks for a good fifteen minutes about the cup, and how the 'friendly' competition is good for the schools. He talks about a bunch of other stuff but I tune out until the captains from each team are called up to do the ceremonial puck drop. Maren goes up for our team and a girl with "SUTEKH" on the back of her jersey skates up for our rivals. It's not the actual puck drop of the game, just a stupid thing where the team who won last year gets to take it and pictures are taken. They leave their helmets off for the cameras, and I can see Maren's lips press together as the other captain slides the puck the her side, but she smiles for the picture anyway.

The national anthem is sung by a student from our school before both teams go to the boxes to get ready to start. They only have a few seconds to talk before the whistle is blown and the starting lineup heads out on the ice. Maren is a part of it and Riley is in goal.

Both teams head to the middle circle where the actual puck drop begins the game. Maren does the face-off for our team while the captain on the other team does theirs as well. The referee drops the puck and after a clashing of sticks, the puck slides into the stick of one of our players. The crowd goes crazy even though it's a little unnecessary since it's only a slight head start. People hold metal pots and bowls above their heads and bang on them with equally loud utensils, making the screaming seem quiet. Our mascot runs around and amps up the crowd when the noise dies off, and some of the girls who take the hockey games way too seriously beat on the glass windows of the rink. Yup, this is a big thing in our school.

"Oh my god, what did that bowl do to her?" Joseph comments and points towards a girl banging on a bowl that's damaged beyond repair. It's so beaten that you would probably be better putting stuff in the bottom at this point.

I laugh, but stop as someone bumps into me from coming up the stairs. I'm right on the corner so people can easily run into me. The man -probably heading to the parents section- didn't even hit me that hard, but I'm immediately met with an apology while I try to apologize to him too. I automatically tell him it's alright and he says sorry again before heading off to wherever he was going with a poutine in his hand.

"That's probably the most Canadian thing to ever happen." I joke to Joseph as I notice him watching what happened. He laughs and nods.

"Yup. You know you're in Canada when you have an apology battle in a hockey rink before one person walks off with a poutine." He grins as I laugh and we both turn back to the game, where Mogadore is coming up to our side of the ice with the puck. It's not long before Maren knocks the puck away and starts off toward the other end of the ice, the rest of the team following. In response, the crowds cheers turn into a deafening roar and I grin, though I refrain from yelling.

Someone else bumps into me again, a little harder this time and I get pushed into Joseph. "Shit, I'm sorry!" A woman cries. She touches my arm. "Are you okay, m'love?" It's not weird around here for someone to call you that.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine." I assure her quickly, smiling.

"Alright, sorry again." She lets go of my arm and smiles before walking away, off toward the parent section. I realize I'm still pressed against Joseph and quickly move over so he has some space.

"Here, I'll get over there." He offers, pushing himself off the rail.

"No, it's alright." I say, but he's already behind and gives me a gentle push to the side so he can take my place on the corner, and I take his place next to John, who doesn't seem to realize we moved and just keeps watching the game intently. "Thanks." I say to Joseph.

"No problem." He smiles and comfortably repositions his arms on the rail.

I notice the strange absence of cheering from our side and find one of the girls from Mogadore skating down the ice with the puck. She's almost across the blue line by our net, but another another girl on her team crosses it before she can, which isn't allowed. The ref blows the whistle to stop the play and the girls skate toward one of the face-off circles to start again.

"Wait, what happened?" Joseph asks, confused.

"Offside." Me and John say the violation at the same time. He hadn't realized I was here and turns his head with shock at my new presence.

"None of the opposing team can pass the blue line before the puck." I explain to Joseph. He nods but I think I just confused him more, and I doubt I could explain it better so I don't even try.

"You know a lot about hockey?" John asks.

"How can I not?" I answer, assuming he knows my two best friends have been in hockey practically since they were born.

"Fair enough." He chuckles. "Although, Joe knows next to nothing and it's pretty much the same situation." He points out.

"Yeah, I don't even think he knows what a slap shot is." Stanley joins in with a smirk, though he doesn't take his eyes off the ice.

"Or a-"

"Okay, we've heard enough." Joseph interrupts, mock glaring at his two friends who laugh. "The point is, I know the basics."

"I doubt it." Stanley cuts in. Joseph lets out an exasperated sigh and I can't help but smile as John and Stanley laugh again. Joseph groans when he sees it.

"Oh no, not you too." He shakes his head then sends an accusing look to his friends. "Trust me, I'm not as bad as they make me out to be." He says to me.

"Oh I trust you." I chuckle. "And for the record, I never thought you were bad at all." I say a little quieter.

I think I blush after I say it but he seems relieved and grins widely before sending a smug look to the guys next me, who are now focused back on the game anyway. I take their lead and watch the game again too, where our team are now surrounding the net on the other side, passing around the puck in an attempt to get a shot on goal. The crowd is cheering them on and some people are banging on the glass, as if that would help.

The girls try to get an open shot but Mogadore's defence is annoyingly good. They must realize this too, because they stop passing and a girl who has the puck rises her stick in the air for a slap shot. The opposing team swarm the area to block the puck, and they would have done a pretty good job if she wasn't faking the shot. Instead she passes the puck across the ice at the last second. Maren is waiting with her stick in the air, and when the puck gets close, she slaps it toward the goal with what looks like enough force to put it right through the net. None of the opposing team was expecting it, including the goalie, and the shot goes in.

Before, I was unsure if the crowd could get any louder, but now I have my answer. I don't mind though, I join in with the screams as many people hold up homemade signs that I can't read since they're facing away from me. The girls on the ice all collide in an embrace that looks almost painful, but their all understandably ecstatic and Riley hits her stick off the ice from the other side on a version of applause. One goal could mean the difference of the game, and the whole tournament for that matter.

I feel an arm wrap around my shoulders, and Joseph pulls me to his side, cheering. "We're gonna win!" He shouts, shaking my me gently. I laugh, more out of nerves than anything, though I am happy they scored. He lets me go to clap and it takes me a minute to lean against the rail again, having lost my train of thought.

I look across the arena to the sea of black, holding up signs of their own, though not congratulatory ones. Some I can't read but I notice a particularly angry guy holding a sign that says "PUCK THE LIONS". Even I have to admit, it's clever. Their signs don't seem to be affecting our school though as everyone continues to scream at ear-busting volumes, and I notice some parents cover their ears. Our mascot dances around by the glass and fires the school up even more while Mogadore's mascot, something called a piken, leans against the top rail on their side. Even though I can't see their face, I can tell they're bored.

Eventually the applause dies down enough to hear my own thoughts and the goal is announced on the loud speaker. "First goal of the tournament scored by number six, Maren Elizabeth. Assisted by number forty one, Emily Blake." The cheering ramps up again for a few seconds after the announcement, but thankfully dies down a lot quicker than before. I notice that John grinned when Maren's name was mentioned, but I did too so I don't really think anything of it. Stanley shakes his head when he hears her name and sighs.

"I don't like her, but she's a good player." He admits to John, who nods a little too enthusiastically.

They start up the game again and the rest of the period is uneventful. When the buzzer sounds, Joseph leans toward me and asks, "You hungry?"

"No, but I could eat." I reply. He laughs and asks the guys if they want anything. They reply with no, which makes sense because they'll be playing in a bit. Joseph and I make our way to the canteen, which is now packed with people from both schools. I grimace when I see the line.

"Is it really worth it?" I ask.

Joseph nods immediately. "Oh, absolutely." He replies grinning, but it tones down a little as he looks around. "It might have been wise to come before the break though."

I nod too. "You can say that again." I agree.

"It might have been wise-" he begins again but stops as I groan and shove his shoulder. He grins teasingly at me. "I was just doing as you said." He defends.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah I got that."

"You don't look amused." He notes, the grin still there. "I thought it was funny."

"I'm laughing on the inside, trust me." I reply dryly. He looks at me for a minute, a half-smile on his face that might actually make my heart beat faster then when he's grinning, though it's hard to tell. He keeps looking until a smile makes its way onto my face too, though mine is a mix of nervousness and confusion. "What?"

His smile widens until it's a full one now, making his eyes light up. It's kind of mesmerizing. "Oh, you just get uncomfortable when people stare at you. It's funny." He chuckles at the look I give him.

"Oh yeah, hilarious." I say flatly, rolling my eyes a little. He laughs properly now and I grin breaks out on my face too.

"Well, I also enjoy looking at you." He seems confident at first but then his eyes widen. "Not in a creepy stalker kind of way, obviously." He says quickly. I laugh to hide my nerves and he suddenly seems more serious. "I honestly don't get how everyone doesn't stare at you." He says in a quieter tone. "I mean, you're beautiful, Marina."

His eyes hold mine and it looks like he wants to say or do something else, but he refrains. He smiles kindly and shrugs. "Sorry, but it's true." He says as though he couldn't help it. Heat rises to my face and I look down to hide a smile building. That made me a lot happier then I'd like to admit. It would be a nice feeling if my stomach would stop doing flips.

"I'm pretty sure that's the first time you've said my name without adding 'of the sea' at the end of it." I joke stupidly, feeling both nervous and thrilled at the same time. It's a weird mix.

He laughs. "Well it's a great name. It would be a shame not to use it." The teasing smile is back now. "That doesn't mean I'll stop using the nickname though." He reminds me. I roll my eyes as he winks at me, but he must know I'm not serious by the grin I can't seem to shake from my face.

"What does your name mean I wonder?" I say, trying to get the topic off me.

"Meh." He shrugs, not seeming interested. "Probably not anything cool like the ocean."

"Every name means something." I remind him, doing my best impression of Mr. Ricardo. Joseph laughs and raises his eyebrows.

"Wow, that was a great impression. Sounded just like him." He jokes. I grin and he startles me by stepping up and ordering our food. I didn't even know we were so close. It's either they were really fast or time just went by super quick.

He orders two plates of fries and two drinks. I try to give him money for mine but he refuses it every time, despite my effort. I should have known he would have refused to let me pay for my own food, as tragically kind as he is.

By the time we get back to our place at the rail, the second period is just starting. They do the puck drop and this time Mogadore takes it, causing our side of the arena to not cheer as much as usual, though some still do.

It seems uneventful until about eight minutes in, when a Mogadore girl gets a straight path to the net when she caught the puck at the centre line. Our defence can't catch her in time and she gets up to the net. Riley readies herself, coming out a couple feet from the net so she can move back. The girl fakes left but shoots the other way, aiming for the top right corner. Riley snaps her glove up at the last minute, and we all cheer as she makes the difficult save.

All of the noise quiets as the girl, unable to stop from the speed she was going, smashes right into the goal, pushing Riley into the net with the player almost on top of her, the net pushed off its holders. They land in a heap and both teams immediately rush over to either help or fight each other, there's no in between really. The girl involved in the collision scrambles off our goalie and looks as though she's talking to her. Riley sits up, and slides herself out of net right before the teams arrive. The ref pushes past everyone and talks to the two girls to ask sure everything is alright. It looks good, so everyone goes back to normal. Well except for one of our players.

Maren looks like she's on a mission as she skates from behind the net after helping to put it back in place. Her sights are set on the Mogadore girl, and she would have gotten her if Riley wasn't quick to grab her by the back of her jersey. Maren almost falls off her skates, making some people in the crowd chuckle, including myself. They exchange some words and with a shake of her head, Maren grudgingly skates away, still looking at the girl though.

The rest of the game is uneventful really. Nobody else scores and no other collisions happen or fights. The teams are pretty even really and I find it impossible to predict who'll win the tournament. I still think it'll be us though, but I'm a bit biased.

I assume they'll want to go home and since Riley is my ride, I know I need to go down by the change rooms to wait. I bid Joseph farewell, but before I can get more then a few steps away, he calls out to me. I turn around to se him jogging down the steps hurriedly, as if I were already past the point of no return.

"You know, we should hang out sometime." He says, coming down to the same stair as me, but standing in the other side of the rail that separates the two halves. He's cutting off traffic but doesn't seems to care.

"We do hang out." I remind him, confused.

He shakes his head. "I'm not talking about tutoring or in school or whatever." He smiles hopefully. "I mean, we should go get a coffee sometime or something. No French or skating. Just, you know... us." He looks into my eyes and I notice the way he chews on his bottom lip. Maybe a nervous habit?

Thankfully I manage to keep my grin from splitting my face in two as I reply. "I'd like that."

His eyes widen with what looks like surprise. Why? Did he actually think I might decline? He grins so wide I can see his back row of teeth. "Sweet. I mean-" he struggles for the proper words and I laugh.

"See you later." I say, starting to walk back down the stairs again the free up traffic on my side.

"Indeed you will, Sea girl!" He calls. I can't help but laugh as I reach the bottom of the stairs and go into the lobby.

I can't keep the grin from my face the rest of the night. What is happening to me?

I don't know why, but when I uploaded this it couldn't put in the page breaks or the lines for the AN. I'll try to fix it tomorrow but thats why it's like that in case y'all were wondering. Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!