Chapter 25

- October 2008 -

Sid rolled onto his side, sat up and planted his feet on the floor. Max was snoring like a monster and Sid wanted nothing more then to smoother him with a pillow… maybe a pillow with dog shit on it. It was times like these when he missed his old roommate. At least he went to bed at a decent hour and didn't come in at one minute to curfew and insist on telling Sid about all the pussy he got. Sid debated saying something to Max but instead he did what he did every morning. Got up, flipped on the lights and got ready for the day. No point in causing a problem, it would only get him more abuse. He would ask for an older, calmer room mate when they got home.

"What the fuck time is it?" Max muttered.

"7:30," Sid said with a toothbrush in his mouth.

"Tabernack! 7:30? What time is that at home?"

"Don't think of it like that, it will only make it harder to adjust…" Sid offered some words of wisdom.

"Whatever, I gotta piss. Get out of the bathroom…"

Sid finished brushing his teeth and stepped out of the bathroom as Max impatiently pushed past him. Sid unzipped his suitcase and dug out some clothes for the day. The team had practice after breakfast and then had a sightseeing tour around Stockholm. He was actually pretty excited.

"I peed on my hands and couldn't find a towel…" Max came out of the bathroom and wiped his wet hands all over Sid's face. Sid whacked his hands away and rolled his eyes. It was funny the first time but now it was annoying.

"I am going to head down for breakfast, you coming?" Sid asked, as Max flopped back onto his bed.

"Do you think there will be waffles?" Max asked. "If there are waffles, I'll come."

"How am I supposed to know if there will be waffles? If you wanted waffles, why didn't you pre-order room service last night?" Sid snapped, remembering a ten minute discussion about breakfast that took place when they first checked into their room. Sid could tell he was sleep deprived by the small amount of patience he already had.

"If I knew I wanted waffles, I would have but last night I thought I wanted eggs Benedict… that's why I didn't order breakfast! I can't make a decision of that magnitude that far in advance…"

"Are you coming downstairs or not?" Sid asked, forcing himself to take a deep breath before he punched his roommate in the face.

"Yeah fine… just let me get dressed…" Max growled as he climbed out of bed.

"I'll be in the hall," Sid offered as he slipped on his shoes. He knew he would have to watch his emotions for the next while, as his normal routine was off and he imagined a number of the guys would be testing him.

Max emerged from their room shortly and the two of them joined several other members of their team in the elevator down to breakfast. There were waffles after all, so Max sat content and didn't get on Sid's case too much more. Some of the other guys tested Sid's patience but Sid kept his calm and let their jabs roll off his shoulders like water.

After breakfast, everyone piled into the buses and headed to the rink across the city. Sid was excited to get on the ice and stretch out his legs and maybe embarrass some of the guys who had given him a hard time. He had lots of time to reflect on last year and work on some of his short comings over the summer and his confidence on the ice had been restored. They arrived at the rink and the training staff had set the dressing rooms up exactly like as if they were at home, it made the transition much easier. Sid inspected his equipment like he did before every game or practice then began the process of getting ready in the same manner he had done since he was five. He liked having a routine. He liked knowing exactly what he was going to do next, having a plan, no surprises. The game of hockey was a surprise after surprise, be it a flucky goal, a bad bounce, a rilled up opponent that just wanted to cause pain or something else that was totally unexpected. Having a predictable routine helped Sid have time to mentally prepare for any and all situations, helped him to be able to work through all the 'what-ifs' that could occur in any particular game. He didn't like surprises, he didn't like things throwing off his routine.

Sid reached down to tighten his skates, gathering the lace in both hands and giving one firm yank. Sid felt something snapped and flew backwards with his laces in his hands. The room erupted in laughter, as everyone knew that 'someone' had cut the laces. This was exactly why Sid stayed awake on the plane over seas.

-.-

Max watched as Sid fell backwards trying to do up his laces and almost peed himself laughing. The boy was just too high strung and was going to burn himself out if he didn't learn how to relax. Everything had to be just so with Sid but Max took it as a very serious responsibility to mess up that plan.

Max finished getting dressed and headed out of the dressing room, grabbing his stick and waiting patiently at the side of the ice until he was given the all clear to get on the ice. He was always the first on the ice and liked to get his feet under him before the rest of the guys piled on. The worst part was waiting for the Zamboni to get the hell off the ice. He felt like a ten year old waiting for Christmas morning and permission to rip open his stocking stuffers. He tapped his skates together and knocked his stick on the boards, watching the Zamboni making another turn around the perimeter of the ice. They were no where near done and seemed to be going slower and slower with each passing inch of ice.

"Tabernack!" Max yelled at no one in particular as he collapsed into the seat closest to the boards.

"Simmer down Max, the people here work on a different sense of urgency," Max just rolled his eyes as some lady behind him, probably some useless reporter, gave him some unsolicited advice. Max turned around to see which member of the press it was, so he could make a mental note to annoy them in an interview after practice.

"Holy Shit…" Max practically choked on his own tongue. Avery was the last person he expected to see sitting behind him, surrounded by some familiar faces and some not so familiar faces with IIHF passes strung around their necks. She smiled sweetly in his direction but a sense of panic crept up in his chest. Max looked down the path towards the dressing room and saw some of the guys heading towards the ice, with Sid in the back of the pack. This was even too harsh of a practical joke for him. Max normally prided himself on his ability to think on his feet, to see the way out of a situation - especially on the ice - but for some reason he was frozen and unable to avoid the pending disaster of Sid seeing Avery sitting in the stands. Sid had been doing good without her around. He seemed like he actually had his mind refocused on hockey and was proving that he didn't need her after all those years of thinking that he did. If Sid saw her now…

"Oh shit," Max said again.

"What's your problem Talbo?" Duper asked, coming up the aisle and whacking him with a stick. Max made a quick motion to Avery with his chin and Dupuis took the hint and looked up into the stands. "Who's that?"

"Are you kidding me?" Max hissed, forcing Dupuis to take a second look. Sure, Dupuis hadn't been with the team that long but Avery had been around causing problems for an extended period… and the stories about her were rampant.

"Oh, shit!" Dupuis practically shouted as he recalled situations from the previous season. "What do we do?"

"I dunno! I was hoping you would think of something!" Max yelped. So much for his plan…

"Um… um… Sid! I think there is a screw sticking out of your visor! You should go get that checked out," Dupuis called down the tunnel to where Sid was quickly approaching them.

Max let out a sigh of relief. Thank God that Dupuis could think faster then he could. Max looked back up at Avery who looked like she was about to cry, as she quickly looked away from him.

"What are you doing here?" Max asked up to her.

"It's my job," Avery responded, pointing to her name tag and apologizing to the men in suits sitting around her. She stood up and took the couple of steps down towards where he was sitting. "I know you don't want Sid to know I'm here and I totally get that… I do. I'm not here to fuck with his head. I am just here to do my job, please understand that."

Max clenched his jaw, having a hard time believing anything she was saying.

"We are just trying to look out for the kid," Dupuis explained to her. She nodded and shifted her gaze back to her feet.

"I don't know what you guys are talking about, there was nothing wrong with my –"

-.-

Sid walked towards the gate and went to step out on the ice. Max and Pascal were talking to his right and whatever bullshit stunt they were planning by sending Sid back to the dressing room wasn't going to work this time. He had taken a quick look at his reflection in the glass on the door and inspected for the 'so-called' loose screw. Of course there was no loose screw. He really needed to stop being so bloody gullible.

Sid reached up and whacked Duper with his stick. "I don't know what you guys are talking about, there was nothing wrong with my –"

He stopped mid sentence as he watched the guys eyes go as wide as plates, as if they had seen the ghost of hockey past.

"What's up guys?" Sid asked with concern. This was clearly more then a prank gone bad. Sid looked to the left of his teammates and suddenly had a clear understanding. "Oh…"

"Maybe, we'll just…" Dupuis offered, grabbing Max by the arm and pulling him out of the area.

"No," Sid stated plainly, unable to look away from the woman he had sworn that he would have nothing to do with. He hated the effect she had on him and absolutely refused to let it get to him now. "We have practice."

Sid turned away from them and stepped onto the ice, skating away from them as fast as possible. Max and Pascal exchanged looks and then quickly followed him onto the ice.