Number Eleven

Chapter 17.

Ava POV

Morgan and I are in our usual seats by the dressing room as we wait for the game to start.

When it's time for Oakley to do his warm-up laps around the rink , I make sure to stand with my back to him and use my thumbs to point to the name written on the back of the jersey that rests on my shoulders. 

The proud smile that lights up his face make the dirty scowls and bitchy mumbles from the girls a few seats down from me so worth it.

"Oh my god did you see his abs when he lifted his jersey up? I think I'm going to have a damn coronary." 

My constant need for a little drama causes my ears to perk up at the girls sentence. 

"Oh, that's enough out of you young lady. Tyler Batemen is far too old for you."

The second voice is far more mature than the first one and causes me to turn my head in search of the two mystery ladies.

Looking behind me, I see a woman two rows back who looks barely in her early forties, sitting beside a much younger, almost carbon copy of herself. Both women are beautiful, with matching crystal blue eyes and light blonde hair.

The younger girl has the longest eyelashes I think I've ever seen as well as a small nose that fits her face perfectly, and sleek cheekbones that I would die for. Both of them are sporting matching Saint's jerseys although I can't see who they are cheering for from where I'm sitting.

"Oh, whatever mom. I have a boyfriend anyways. Still doesn't make me blind enough not to see his killer abs." So they're mother and daughter?

"Oh, where did I go wrong with you?" The mother laughs, and my heart clenches as I watch her joke around with her teenage daughter.

I go to turn back around in my seat in hopes of making it without being caught eavesdropping, but I am called out by the older woman before I can escape. 

"Oh dear, I am so sorry for my daughter's lack of manners. I hope we didn't disturb you," she apologizes quickly, sending a quick glare at her daughter who sits beside her looking undisturbed while texting away on her small iPhone.

"No! No, you weren't. I was just looking for...for our friends! Turns out they're not here yet!" I stammer awkwardly, trying to remove myself from this uncomfortable situation as quickly as possible.

"Well hopefully they get here soon, the game's about to start. We just got her a few minutes ago ourselves. I hate missing the warm-ups! I'm Anne by the way." Her mother like tone warms my heart and I find myself smiling at her.

"I'm Ava. It's nice to meet you." Her friendly smile shines as I give a short wave of my hand.

"Mom stop freaking out the locals," the daughter groans before putting her phone away and turning her attention to me.

"Sorry about her. She doesn't get out much. I'm Gracie by the way." She swings her biker boot covered feet up on the empty seat in front of her and sends her own friendly smile my way.

"Ava the games about to start, tell your new friends you'll see them some other time," Morgan chides while shoving an elbow in my rib cage.

I let out a harsh breath of air as my side reels from the aggressive attack and I shoot daggers into the side of her head. "I hope you guys enjoy the game. It was nice to meet you both." 

Waving at the two of them, I sit down in my seat once again and watch as the lights dim and the line-ups are called.

~~~

Halfway through the second period, Oakley is skating full speed down the ice just as one of the opposing team's players illegally rams straight into his back, sending him flying a few feet forward onto the ice.

My stomach drops to the floor and I shoot up in my seat with wide eyes as I watch his chin collide with the ice, mere seconds before his right shoulder catches the rest of his fall. 

My view is blocked by the medic as he runs onto the ice beside their coach, a stretcher held between both of them. My hands shake as I try and move past the shocked onlookers, my mind frying itself with fear, not even realizing Morgan has grabbed my hand in hers and is following closely behind me. 

When we finally reach a clearing, my jaw drops. 

Oakley is lying on his back, clutching his right shoulder and yelling for the ref for letting the call go, a puddle of red liquid resting beside his head as it flows from his mouth. Their coach has moved to the ref, his face red with anger while the medic kneels down beside Oakley and tries to get him to sit up. 

The arena is dead silent as Morgan calls my name, trying to get my attention, and when I slowly turn my head to look at her I notice the fight taking place on the ice past her head.

Tyler has the dirty player by the throat, sending punch after punch at his face. He's knocked his opponent's helmet off, kicking it off to the side with his skate all while not stopping his brutal attack on him. The remaining referees try furiously to rip Tyler off, without much luck. It's not until Adam shouts something into his ear that he drops his hands, almost as if they had been burned by the skin of the bloody player. 

Tyler spins around and heads off the ice, his attention focused on the ice in front of him until he shakes by us.  He looks up at Morgan and I, nodding his head at me before heading off the ice and stalking down the hallway. 

By the time I look back towards the spot on the ice where Oakley had just been laying, I notice he's gone.

"Go. He'll be in the medical room, Tyler will be by the locker room just go find him. I'll meet you at home." 

Morgan all but shoves me out of the crowd and I just simply nod my head, my feet moving beneath me as I start climbing the stairs two at a time. 

I make it to the main ground of the arena quickly and start jogging in the direction of the locker room.

My hands are seriously clammy and I have to repeatedly rub them on the smooth material of my leggings in hopes of calming myself down. He has to be okay. Right? He'll be out for maybe a couple of games and he'll be fine. It'll be like nothing even happened. I blow out a breath of air and thank god for the fact it's quite empty up here. The last thing I need right now is to be pushed and shoved around by intense hockey fans.

Five minutes later I reach the dressing room and my heart picks up at the sight of Tyler waiting for me by the door. He's still wearing all of his gear, with the exception of his helmet and is leaning against the black painted wall with his eyes closed and long hair hanging carelessly in his face. His lips are turned downwards and his bushy eyebrows are pulled in tight. He looks deep in thought. I drop my eyes to his knuckles and notice the once white bandages now soaking in a deep red.

"Hey," I mumble and his head snaps up. I walk the few steps it takes for me to stand in front of him and wrap my still shaky hands around his waist. The friendly hug starts off quite awkward, due to the fact that Tyler isn't much of a people person let alone a hugger, but after a few seconds, he relaxes and wraps his huge arms around my tiny shoulders, letting me bring him the comfort I know he needs.

"Thank you. Are you okay?"

If I've learned anything about Tyler the past two years, it's that although he has no problem standing up for his friends and teaching some ass hole a lesson, he'll always beat himself up afterward. He doesn't open up about himself much, but I do know that his home life isn't the best.

"Yeah. I didn't get a scratch on me. Unless you count the mangled messes I can now call my fists." His gruff voice cuts through the silence as he pulls out of the hug. His eyes dart down at the bandages that clearly need to be changed before looking back at me.

"I'll take you to the medical room. I'm sure lover boy is losing his s**t without you around." 

Tyler's deep chuckle makes me slightly smile as we start walking in silent strides towards the sterile room.

Before I know it we stop in front of a white door with the word Medic plastered on the front in bold red letters.

"I'll leave you to it. You can just head in, I'm sure they're expecting you." 

Another laugh sounds, this time coming from me. He nods his head before turning back around to make his way hopefully back to the locker room.

He suddenly stops short and quickly turns back to me, looking around awkwardly. "Oh, and thank you. For, you know. Earlier." 

He's rocking on the balls of his feet as if he's ready to bolt at any moment.

"You don't have to thank me, Tyler. We're friends and that's what friends do." I send him a gentle smile and watch as his own grows on his lips before he nods his head and once again turns around and heads off. This time though, he doesn't stop.

With as much confidence as I can muster I turn and face the door before pulling it open and walking into the room. I'm hit with the smell of disinfectant and scrunch up my nose in distaste. I hate hospital smell.

Walking a few steps further, I see Oakley sitting on the bed in the middle of the room with annoyance written clearly on his face. He has a sling holding his right arm up, a white bandage resting on his chin and an ice pack wrapped around his lower back.

"Oh my god, what happened out there? One minute you were skating and then the next you were on your back and then I saw Tyler fighting that little punk and when I turned to look at you again you were gone! I was so worried!" It comes out in one breath and I'm panting by the time I finish. He's staring at me with wide eyes, his mouth hanging slightly open before it closes and turns up in his usual smirk.

"Gracie, mom. This is Ava, the friend I told you about." 

I whip my head to see the mother and daughter from earlier sitting in two chairs pushed up against the far wall. Holy balls this is soo not happening right now. I feel the blush angrily force it's way up my neck and I slowly raise my hand to wave at them.

"Oh my! It's so nice to see you again dear." 

I hear Gracie snicker to herself as Anne jumps up from her seat and rushes over to me before pulling me in for a hug. She smells like peppermint and baking, instantly reminding me of my own mom. I look over her shoulder to see the confused look resting on Oakley's face as he realizes I already know both his mother and sister.

"Likewise," I laugh, pulling myself out of her python like hug. 

"I knew I had a good feeling about you," Gracie gushes.

"Uh is anyone going to explain this to me? I'm seriously confused over here."

We turn our attention back over to the injured boy and I smile shyly while Gracie explains, "I was just talking to mom about how hot Tyler's body was before your game started when mom started embarrassing me and then we noticed Ava and mom just introduced herself like a total weirdo."

"Tyler is not hot. And he is way too old for you," he glares as she simply rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

"Is that the only thing you got from what I just said? You are so ridiculous! I don't know why you're putting up with him Ava, he can be a real ass."

They continue their banter for a few minutes while Anne and I stand back and watch. It's clear he's extremely protective of his sister, which I mean he has to be, she's gorgeous, but he doesn't need to worry about Tyler. I don't know much about his type but I doubt it's underage, sixteen-year-old girls.

"Okay, that's enough you two. We have company!" Their mother shouts, breaking them apart. 

As Oakley remembers I'm there, he shoots me a swoon-worthy grin and holds his good arm out in front of him for a hug. I shake my head slightly, not wanting to intrude on their family moment, but he simply rolls his eyes and stands up off the bed before walking over to me and pulling me into his side on his own. My body relaxes instantly at his touch and I carefully wrap my arms around his neck to hug him back.

We hug for what feels like hours, trapped in our own little world. My nerves finally fly away, knowing he's safe and okay. The sound of the medical room door softly shutting pulls my attention from him.

"Thank god, I didn't want to ask them to leave but I've been wanting to do this since you walked in here." 

I'm about to ask what he's talking about just as his warm lips meet mine. Standing up on my tiptoes, I press my lips against his and relish in the fuzzy feeling that takes over my body whenever we touch.

I suddenly pull back as I remember that I still have no idea what happened or how he's doing, "You never answered me. What happened out there? What's the diagnosis?"

He softly sighs before he leads us to one of the chairs resting against the wall and sits down on one before softly yanking me and making me land on his lap. Wrapping his good arm around my waist, he leans forward and rests his chin on my shoulder.

"I just didn't see him coming. I know I have to be more aware since I seem to be public enemy number one to every WHL player and their dog, but I didn't see him. Regardless, it was a dirty hit and it sent me on my ass. I have a bruised tailbone and a dislocated collarbone. I could do without the scrape on my chin and the sore tongue but it's nothing serious, I'm lucky."

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. "How long are you out for?"

"I'll be riding the pine for three to four weeks. If I'm lucky," he grumbles, tightening his grip on my waist.

"At least it's just the beginning of the season, you'll be playing before you know it." I know my words don't do much, but I would do anything to make him happy again.

"Thank you beautiful. You always know what to say," he softly murmurs while rubbing his thumb against the skin hiding under the jersey I'm wearing; his jersey. This might not be the ideal situation, but sitting here with Oakley is the only place I want to be.