Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Scooter

The officer arrived early the next morning and took me to the airport. The flight boarded a couple of hours later. I watched out the window as I left the home that I had known since I was born. I had managed to take a sedative before boarding and slept most of the flight. I woke up just before the plane was ready to land.

I walked off of a plane and looked around. The first thing I noticed was an old man standing with a sign and a younger man standing next to him.. "Scott Vanderbilt," the sign read and I walked up to them.

"I'm Scott." I told them.

"Great. I'm Tom Riley and this is my son Rick." The older man told me. "He will be you roommate at school and he will help you with anything you need. "

"Hi." I shook the younger man's hand.

"We should go get your luggage." Rick said and we headed off to the baggage claims area. My luggage was collected and I was led out to their car. They took me straight to the school and Rick and I were dropped off.

"Thanks, Dad." Rick said as he patted the top of the car. His father drove off and Rick helped me in the dorm with my things. When we walked into the dorm room I was blown away. It looked great and I figured I could be comfortable here.

"What happened to your leg?" Rick asked later that night, after I had unpacked everything.

"I got shot." I told him. I was laying on my bed, reading and he was playing a handheld game of some sort.

"What happened?" he asked, sitting up and putting the game down.

I couldn't very well tell him the truth, so I made something up. "It was a drive by. I was walking home from hockey practice and the next thing I knew I was laying in a hospital bed."

"Do they know who did it?"

"No. It was probably one of the local gangs." I told him, further expanding my fib.

"What about hockey? Aren't you here on a hockey scholarship?"

"Yeah. I'm here on a hockey scholarship." I told him, putting my magazine down. "They told me I can't play my original position any more, because my skating won't be like it used to be."

"What position did you play?"

"Center. I was the leading scorer on my team and now this had to happen." I answered bitterly.

"What about now? What position will you be playing?"

"Once my leg gets better I will be playing goalie." I told him. "It probably won't be until next year. I can't do anything until March After that I have to go through some goalie training."

"Wow." He told me. "Are you looking forward to playing goalie?"

"I guess I always thought it would be a cool position to play. And it can't be all that hard to keep the puck out of the back of the net. I'm sure I'll get the hang of it quickly. I've always been able to catch right on to things."

"Then you shouldn't have any problems. Even if you do, you'll have a while to get the hang of it."

"Thanks Rick." I told him.

"Listen man. I don't by Rick."

"Then what do you go by?" I asked. I didn't want to make the guy mad at me n my first day here.

"I prefer Riley." He told me. "What about you? Do you have a nickname or a preferred name?"

"No." I answered. I had thought about asking him to call me Gunnar, but I didn't think that would be such a great idea. I didn't want to bring attention to myself about who I really was. "Scott is fine."

He nodded. "Well then Scott, what do you like to do in California?"

"California?" I asked.

"You are from California, right?"

"Oh yeah," I told him as I remembered that the officer had told the school I was from California.

"Then why did you question it?"

I thought quick for an answer and came up with one. "Because my family moved to Iceland a few years ago, so I thought you meant the last place where I lived."

"He seemed to accept my answer. "Then what did you like to do when you were in Iceland?"

I smiled, remembering the good old days in Iceland. The days when I didn't have to worry about getting murdered. "All kinds of things. Hockey, of course. Then there was reading, listening to music, hanging out with friends. You know things like that."

"So pretty much, the things we like to do here?"

"Yeah." I answered.

"So was that all of your stuff or will there be more on the way?"

"There will be more coming. I can't wait for it to get here. I miss going riding." I told him.

"Riding?" he asked me. "On what? Do you have a motorcycle or something?"

"Something like that." I told him. "I have a motor scooter."

"A scooter?" he raised his eyebrow at me.

"Yeah." I answered confidently. "All of the cool kids ride scooters in Iceland." It was true too. You weren't anybody if you didn't own a scooter and ride it to school.

"You may not want to do that around here."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Kids here, may not consider it so cool. In fact I know they won't."

"I guess." I answered. I was a little upset about the loss of my scooter, but I figured I would get over it in due time.

"I'm gonna get some sleep. You should do the same. After all tomorrow is your first day of classes and all." He told me.

"I guess your right."

"Of course I'm right." he told me as he turned off the lamp. "Good night, Scooter."

"Scooter?" I asked.

"You needed a nickname." he told. "Night Scooter."

"Night Riley." I told him, closing my eyes. Great, my first night here and I already got a nickname. One that would be considered the name of a child's toy here in America.

A/N: Please push the little blue button and leave an inspirational comment. Also, I have no idea how popular scooters are in Iceland. If I had to guess, I would say not very popular, but for the sake of this story we will just pretend that they are the hottest thing in the country, other then hockey. Next chapter, Gunnar/Scooter's first day of school. He meets the team, coaches, ect… After that I will probably skip ahead to his rehab.