It was too late for this.
The Devils had just lost and Wynonna had had to help a security guard break up a drunken brawl between some of the fans leaving the game (which was so not in her job description, but admittedly more fun than cleaning up towels and doing laundry). She cursed the schedule rotation for putting her on locker room duty after the night's game. A long day at the rink was compounded by the fact that Waverly had left her at work to have a get together with Chrissy Nedley and Stephanie Jones, leaving her to do all the work herself.
Waverly's little party also meant that she was in no rush to get home anytime soon. She couldn't stand most of the people her sister called friends. Chrissy was alright, but Stephanie was an airhead and a bitch (but not in the fun way), and Champ was a downright douche—or moron, take your pick.
She cleared the visitor's locker room first, seeing as it was smaller and had less stuff left behind, and grumbled as she walked down the tunnel to the home locker room.
The Devils should've all been cleared out by now, she figured, so it came as a bit of a shock to her when she heard angry growling and the sound of something being flipped over from inside. Wynonna almost turned away to let whoever was clearly still in there make their way out, but she was also nothing if not nosy, and she pushed her way into the room anyway.
She heard a distressed: "God damn it!" and had to duck out of the way of a flying hockey helmet as she entered the locker room.
It was really too late for this.
"What the hell man?" She growled before she could even register her assailant. When she did look up, she saw a wide-eyed Nicole Haught looking absolutely mortified, alone in the locker room.
"Oh my God Wynonna, I'm so sorry, I don't know what got into me, and…and…" Nicole rambled apologetically, although uncharacteristically frantic. In the just under a month that she had known the redhead, Wynonna had known her to be level-headed and confident, albeit a bit too stuffy and strait-laced for her liking.
There was no denying that the woman in front of her bore little resemblance to the one Wynonna had grown accustomed to, standing there, still in her skates and pads from the game, next to the laundry bin turned over and the jerseys splayed across the floor.
"You know, normally I'd kill you for that," she teased, but upon seeing Nicole's face drop, she dropped it for a softer approach. Gross. "But…you look like you're in a mood, so I'll let it slide."
Nicole released a breath but still looked tense.
"Hey, you good?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." Nicole said, rather unconvincingly, but Wynonna could see her struggle to keep her pride intact.
"No, you're not. You just flipped a laundry bin and tried to kill me with a helmet, not to mention you're still dressed up like you're gonna go play even though the game's been over for an hour. Now what you're gonna do is go get changed and join me in the office." Wynonna said, and silenced her when Nicole tried to protest. "Ah ah ah, Tater Haught, I'm not taking no for an answer. Now get."
She shooed the ginger off who went with hesitation, but no protest. With a heavy sigh and a groan, Wynonna bent down to pick up the mess Nicole had made in the room.
Once Nicole had changed and deposited her laundry bag into the bin, she walked over to the door where her helmet was lying and sheepishly picked it up.
"Wynonna, I really am sorry, and thank you for picking up the mess, I didn't mean to cause such a disaster."
Wynonna accepted the apology, and waved Nicole to follow her as she pushed the bin down toward the laundry room. Job done, she led the both of them to the office. She opened a door under the desk, revealing a mini fridge from which she produced two bottles of beer. She slouched down and sat against the back of the desk, patting the floor next to her for Nicole to join her.
"I don't know Wynonna, it's late and I really should—" Nicole said with a hesitancy about her.
"Your drinking ban is over, and your mental breakdown back there tells me you need a cold one right now, so sit."
Nicole did as she was told, lowering herself to the floor and accepting the bottle.
"So, Red, what's bothering you?"
She watched the younger woman tense and take a heavy swig from her beer.
"I think everyone on the team might hate me."
"Bullshit." Wynonna scoffed, unbelieving of what she had just heard.
"Well, it makes total sense, I blew the game. I had a chance to win and then I fell like I've never even skated before and they scored, and we lost."
"Dude, shit happens, relax why don't you? Why would everyone hate you for that? It's not like they scored on their chances either."
"Well yeah," Nicole conceded, still appearing dejected, but at least she acknowledged Wynonna's admittedly good advice. "But nobody would talk to me after the game and there were glares at me right after they scored, and the booing. I'm starting to believe that maybe I actually don't belong here."
Wynonna rolled her eyes, unable to believe the words she was hearing.
"First off, was anyone talking to anyone after the game?" She asked. Nicole shook her head no. "And who the fuck cares if they were glaring at you? At least you took your chance, so what if you royally fucked it up?" Wynonna could tell Nicole wanted to be offended and pissed at her, but the words had a elicited a small smile from the redhead instead. "And why wouldn't you think you belong here? You're kinda a stud out there."
Nicole sighed. Wynonna had never quite seen a vulnerability to the girl who seemingly always oozed confidence and levelheadedness. Suddenly very interested in the label on her bottle, Nicole's shoulders slackened and she visibly deflated.
"My whole life nobody has really been in my corner. Except my aunt and uncle, but they've been gone for years now. Nobody believed I could get here; said I should give up on hockey. That I should stop stupidly chasing a pipe dream. I used to ignore it because this was something I really wanted, but god, what if they were all right?"
"I'm gonna need you to shut that bullshit up chief. Anyone with eyes could see you belong out there. Give yourself a bit more credit, Haught."
She was glad to draw a smile out of the dejected redhead, though she was sure the alcohol in her system was helping to loosen her up.
"Wynonna?" Nicole asked, taking another sip from her bottle. Wynonna nodded for her to proceed. "Remember when you asked me the most reckless thing I've ever done?"
"I distinctly remember saying rebellious, but yeah."
"You wanna know what it is?"
"More than anything." She said excitedly, more than a little curious to learn about the hoity-toity ginger.
"Okay, so when I was applying to University, I did an overnight with the hockey team at UofA. Followed around one of the freshmen to class, and I got to sit behind the bench at their game." Nicole started, Wynonna nodding along attentively. "After the game, we went out to a party at one of the senior's houses and wanting to fit in, I got a little more than tipsy, but the other girls were smashed. At some point in the night things got well…"
"Say no more, Naughty Haughty, you got lucky with a senior guy at a frat party." Wynonna praised. "Although in terms of recklessness, it's a bit boring don't you think?"
Nicole tried to suppress a chuckle, but failed.
"I wouldn't exactly call it getting lucky, and it definitely wasn't with a guy, but it did help me figure out I was about as straight as Elton John and Freddie Mercury combined." Wynonna couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Things were fine at first, she kissed me in the corner of the room, which caught me by surprise, and then things got heavy, and the next morning I woke up in the senior captain's bed."
"Way to go red!" Wynonna congratulated Nicole, offering her a high five, that Nicole didn't accept and instead averted her gaze to the floor.
"She freaked out and yelled and all but threw me out of her room." She sighed sadly. "I was seventeen and just figured out I was gay as fuck and after my first experience with a girl, she kicked me out and swore up and down that she was straight and I that was disgusting. She acted like she wasn't the one who shoved her tongue down my throat and fucked me into submission the night before…sorry TMI." Wynonna grimaced at the image for just a moment, but shook it off. She had her own fair share of stories anyway. "It wasn't a great feeling, but in hindsight maybe that's what I get for hooking up with a 22-year-old in obvious denial."
"I take it back, losing your v-card and figuring out you were gay on the same night you hooked up with the hockey captain is reckless as fuck." Wynonna saluted her with her now empty beer bottle. "Quick question."
"Which is…?"
"What song was playing when Captain Closet kissed you?"
"How is that relevant?"
"I need context, Haught."
"I don't see how that'd help."
"You were at a party, logic only states that there was music…maybe some red plastic cups, some twinkly little fairy lights in a frat house…bringing back any memories?"
Nicole sighed heavily, giving in to Wynonna's pressuring. "Britney." She told her. "Toxic."
Wynonna couldn't help the absolutely ungodly cackles that escaped her mouth when she heard what Nicole had said.
"Oh man, that is perfect." She said, unable to control her laughter.
"God, I guess I really should have known." The other girl next to her joined her in soft laughter at the irony of that situation. It lasted for a passing moment until Nicole's eyes got sad again, and so Wynonna reached into the fridge to grab another two bottles, passing one to her.
An awkward silence set in as they twisted the tops off of the fresh beers.
"Shae hates me."
"Smoking hot team captain Shae Pressman hates you?"
Nicole nodded.
"She's hated me for five years. She's the one behind the hazing and she's so standoffish around me, I know why, but you'd think she'd get over it."
The wheels were turning in Wynonna's head, trying to understand what Nicole meant.
"Why would she hate you for so long? What does she have to get over anyw—ohhhh!" Wynonna came to the realization and Nicole nodded her head in confirmation. "Dude, no way. You hooked up with her? Shae?"
"Yup."
"Wait she thought she was straight?"
"I'm pretty sure she still does."
"Talk about oblivious. I just assumed she was gay from the everything about her."
Nicole nodded in agreement.
The silence fell over them again, and Wynonna figured it was her turn to break it by changing the subject entirely.
"You wanna know why I don't really want to go home just yet?" She asked.
"Why?"
"Waverly is having the world's lamest party to celebrate her being single and Stephanie Jones' stupid engagement." She saw the question on Nicole's face and decided to answer it before she even asked. "She broke up with Champ a couple weeks ago, 'bout time if you ask me."
"Why is it the world's lamest party?"
"Because I know exactly who's there. It's her, Chrissy Nedley—"
"—Sheriff's daughter?" Nicole asked, interrupting. Wynonna confirmed.
"And Stephanie Jones. As far as friends go, I don't know how Waverly managed to willingly surround herself with the Stephanies and the Champs of the world." Wynonna grumbled into the bottle in her hand. "You know one time, Stephanie told me I should think about getting a butt lift." She rolled her eyes at the thought.
"What?" Nicole asked, voice slightly drawled from her alcohol consumption and full of shock. "Your ass it's…it's top shelf man. Top shelf."
"Thank you." Wynonna smirked, feeling her own beer just a bit now. "I just don't know, I'm not all that fond of her friends. They hold her back…"
"You know what I think," Nicole drawled, a smile lighting up her alcohol-hazy eyes, "I think Waverly has spent her whole life tailoring herself to the people she's with, she's only just now figuring out what she really wants."
This Nicole was more like the one Wynonna knew. Confident, not mopey, annoyingly noble…and cheesy.
"Dude you're like a walking bumper sticker—who's a professional athlete. Waverly should be hanging out with you."
"I agree." Nicole smiled, a twinkle in her eyes that even drunk Wynonna couldn't place.
"Hey." She slapped Nicole on the shoulder. "We should make a bet."
"I don't make bets when I'm drunk."
"Dude, come on, you've had like one beer, you can't be drunk," Wynonna pushed, very used to getting her way, "and besides, it's a good bet."
"Ugh, fine. What is it?"
"You," she jabbed her pointer finger into the side of Nicole's head, "have to score like a bajillion goals next game to make up for losing tonight."
"Well, I hardly think a bajillion is possible in one game, or a number…is bajillion a number?" Nicole frowned in questioning.
"I mean yeah probably, but still, okay, okay I bet you that you can't score eight goals next game."
"Yeah you're probably right." Nicole conceded.
"You're not supposed to agree with me, that's not how bets work." She scoffed.
"That's also not how hockey games work." The redhead retorted quickly.
"Fine, fine, fine. Five?"
"How 'bout we start with one?" Nicole proposed.
"Four."
"No, Wynonna."
"Three, take it or leave it."
She saw Nicole think it over and accept the challenge.
"Okay so I score three goals next game or what happens?"
"If you don't score all those goals, then…" Wynonna paused, trying to think of something that was beneficial to her and enough of a punishment for the redhead, "you have to clean the men's restrooms every time I'm scheduled on bathroom duty for the next month."
Nicole scrunched her face in disgust at the thought. Wynonna knew how gross those things were—she found herself centimeters from vomiting every time she walked in to one. What was it with guys? Was it really that hard to not destroy the bathroom?
"Okay, what's in it for me? If I win?"
"Then…you get your team to stop hating you." Wynonna's smirk quickly turned to a frown when Nicole slapped her on the arm.
"Fuck that Wynonna."
"Fine, okay," she rose her hands in concession, "fifty bucks?"
Nicole pondered this, but didn't accept.
"Fifty bucks and I'll warn you any time Champ is in the vicinity?" Was Wynonna's revised offer.
"Deal." They shook as Wynonna grabbed them another round from the fridge.