Brown eyed Girl 75: Isn't it funny how brothers can finally string together encouragement and actually SOUND like they mean it? Thanks for the review

katydid13: Thank you, here is more

ooOoo

So goodbye (fare thee well), there's no time for delay, you'll see me at the face-off or catch the play-by-play. So goodbye (fare thee well), I'm glad you shared my bed, but never trust a fella with a helmet on his head

Helmethead- Great Big Sea

ooOoo

I jumped over the boards and slid over the end of the ice. Jesus Christ, what did these guys do while they're out here? There are cracks and holes everywhere, and of course, it's my job to fill in these things. That and running the snack bar and mopping the floor, and cleaning the bathroom. Why does it always seem to be that I'm the only one at the arena and I get stuck with all these stupid jobs?

Just as I packed fresh ice into the seventeenth hole left in the ice surface, one such offender, dressed in a yellow Terriers practice jersey and hockey skates stepped foot on the surface that I still had to finish repairing. Sighing and throwing a chunk of ice clear across to the other side, I waited until he skated around the ice once and then left.

"Good God," I muttered to myself. "He should know better than that, it'll ruin the blades on his skates."

He waited until I banged the last of the fresh ice into the surface and then decided he was going to step on the ice and try skating around again, no doubt liable to wear holes in the fresh ice. I hadn't even zambonied the ice yet, what the hell was he doing?

"Oi!" I shouted, still on my knees. "Stupid kid, get the hell off the ice!"

"Calm down..." he told me.

"Don't you fucking tell me to calm down!" I shouted at him. "I am running on an hour of sleep and four cups of coffee, so don't you tell me to calm down!"

"What's your problem?"

"You're my fucking problem! Skating on the ice when I haven't even finished with it!"

"Alright, alright, I'll leave!"

I shook my head, but when he didn't skate away from me I couldn't help but feel rage at the fact that he was still standing there.

"Move!" I shouted at him. "Now! Before I come over there and rip your nuts off with the chisel!"

The look in my eyes must've told him to back away from me, considering how tired I was and how fierce I knew my words were. I was not in the mood to talk to anyone, especially since I had just moved into a new apartment and right now could only afford to pay my rent. I ate from the snack bar, usually a small thing of popcorn, and that would be my dinner. Unfortunately it was all I could afford, sad as it is.

Oh well, eventually things would pick up.

I hoped.

Once he had left me alone, I made my way toward the Zamboni and climbed up the side. Starting the engine, I drove the machine onto the surface and set to work. I guess you could say that going around in circles gave me some time to think. It didn't take very long to clear the ice, but it was enough for me to decide that, even though the job wasn't what I thought it would be when I moved here, the money was certainly more in a week what I would've made in two months on the fishing boats. I could stick it out, since it was probably the only way I was going to survive.

Once I'd cleared the ice and done the washrooms, I made my way back to the snack bar, and turned the popcorn machine on. It's beyond me why anyone would want to eat popcorn so early in the morning, but the manager had told me to turn the machine on in time for the first shifts. Especially in the summer, when the younger kids would be coming in for summer camps. In Newfoundland we didn't really have popcorn in the arenas, but then again, how would I know? I don't even remember seeing one, Gary and I normally ran around outside, and sometimes down to the harbour, where we'd throw rocks into the water. It wouldn't be out of place to say that that was our favourite pastime.

I stood at the bar waiting for people to come and ask for something, at least. Most people asked for popcorn, sometimes a soda, maybe even coffee. Even I wasn't that stupid, I knew how to make coffee, though my mother was a stickler for tea. Tea leaves weren't that expensive, maybe thirty cents for a pound, and I could boil water, that's what pots of water warmed on the stove were for.

And of course, who should approach the bar but one of the hockey players who'd just finished. But it wasn't the same guy who'd had the nerve to skate on the ice before I'd had done with it. This young guy had darker hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was a little shorter than the other guy, and he carried more equipment. I'm guessing he was a goalie, and he looked tired. It wasn't just the kind of tired you'd expect after a long practice in heavy equipment, but another kind of tired. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

He smiled at me and slipped me a five dollar bill. He asked me for a bottle of water and a small bag of popcorn. When I put the articles out on the counter, he smiled at me again and told me I looked new, since he'd never seen me before.

"Yeah, I just started here last week," I answered. "I'm Viv," I told him, holding out my hand.

"I'm Jim," he answered.

"Do you have a last name, Jim?" I asked him, giving him a sly smile of my own.

"Craig," he nodded.

"Hallet," I answered him.

"So, Vivianne Hallet," there was a big smile on his face. "It is Vivianne, isn't it?"

"What else would it be?"

"Yeah, very true," he laughed. "What brings you to Boston University?"

"Oh, I... I'm not a student," I told him. "No one else would be able to work 10 hours a day, 6 days a week, so when I applied for the job they took me on for the fact that I wouldn't be interrupted by studying."

He nodded, almost knowingly.

"How much are you getting paid, if you don't mind me asking."

"Enough to pay my rent," I answered. "It's enough for my rent, it'll get up to enough for food, eventually."

His brow furrowed, but before he could say anything else, there was a voice from behind him calling his name.

"Hey Jack," he turned around and greeted his teammate.

I locked eyes with this Jack character and immediately recognized him as the kid who'd been on the ice with me. Good Lord, I hoped I was androgynous enough for him to forget my face. I had been halfway down the ice, and with the helmet on I would think his vision would be a little distorted in regards to remembering faces.

"Who's your friend?" he asked.

"Jack, this is..."

"Vivianne," I answered him, turning around and going back to my work. "Nice to meet you by the way, Jim."

"Yeah..." his voice sounded as though he were nodding as he spoke.

I heard the two of them walk away and swore never to think of either of them again.

Little did I know what fate had in store for me.