Number Eleven

Chapter 2.

Ava POV

"Ava, get your ass moving! The game starts in an hour," Morgan yells as she starts pounding on my bedroom door.

My full name is Octavia, but everyone just calls me Ava.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm almost ready, shut your trap," I yell back. 

As I finish getting ready, I do a quick once over in my mirror. Although I can't say that my black Saints hoodie and ripped skinny jeans are gonna drop jaws, I can say that I'm damn comfy. I quickly pull my long dark brown hair up into a high ponytail before leaving my room.

Morgan and I live in a small two-bedroom apartment together about fifteen minutes away from the University here in Vancouver. It isn't anything overly special, but it's enough for the two of us. 

The kitchen features a small island with light granite countertops to go with the light wood cabinets and stainless steel appliances, while the living room sits directly across, in a spotlight of sunlight that barrels through our floor to ceiling windows. 

We kept the decorating simple, with a brown L couch, a small coffee table, and a rocking chair Morgan just had to have, being the only furniture in the space beside the rickety stools resting at our small kitchen bar. 

Morgan's waiting for me on the couch when I exit my room, scrolling through her fancy new iPhone. Her platinum blonde hair is curled loosely, sitting just below her shoulders and her bright blue eyes are covered by her long, thick eyelashes. She's decided to display our vastly different styles while wearing Matthews's hockey jersey as well as a pair of light blue high waisted shorts, which you can barely see with the length of the jersey, and some dark vans.

It's the beginning of September here, which definitely isn't ideal weather for her current outfit, but this girl never seems to get cold.

Matthew is Morgan's boyfriend, as well as the starting goalie for our WHL team, the Vancouver Saints. Unfortunately for me, that means I end up getting dragged to almost every single game.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy hockey, but sometimes a girl just wants to sit at home curled up in her bed with a carton of Ben And Jerrys and binge watch a Netflix show.

"We leaving or what? I've been waiting forever for you," I tease as I head towards the door.

"Oh shut up," she laughs while finally getting off the couch.

"Oh, don't you look pretty. You always could rock the ponytail look. I, on the other hand, can not," she whines, pouting her Kardashian worthy lips before giving me her nod of approval.

As we get inside her Jeep, she looks over and gives me a hopeful smile. "We're all going out after the game tonight, it's the first game of the season please tell me you're coming? It won't be fun without you. Plus, I heard the new guy will probably be there."

Ah yes, Oakley Hutton. Rumors have been flying around about the new hockey god since he moved here a couple of months ago. For a guy most people haven't seen before, he sure has quite the fan base.

"I haven't met him yet, but Matthew says he's amazing on the ice. He came from Penticton or something like that," she finishes.

I roll my eyes. "If he's anything like the other guys on the team, I'm gonna have to pass on that one. You got the only decent one. But yes, I'll come." 

I give my head a shake at her sudden excitement as we head off towards the arena.

~~~

Once we finally find a damn parking stall, I mentally prepare myself for the screaming crowds of fans and the constant groups of girls that are going to be lingering around, searching for their next, hormone-driven victim.

Puck bunnies. 

The desperate, highly bubbly group of girls who only want to hook-up with a guy because he plays hockey. What beautiful, exquisite creatures they are. Not. 

Having spent the past few years being hauled to game after game, tournament after tournament, you learn to keep away from the locker rooms directly afterward. Unless you crave the smell of lust and clouds of expensive perfumes, that is.

"Come on, move your ass! Trevor and Beckie are already inside!" Morgan squeals as she yanks me to the entrance of the arena.

Beckie and Trevor are a couple of our hockey friends from Campus. We met them both last year when we were all just poor Freshman, all desperate to make it through our first set of exams. We all bonded over our love of the sport, and have been going to games together ever since. 

As soon as we get through the doors, I can barely hear anything Morgan is saying past all the "let's go Saints" chants and other screams that I try hard to tune out. In the end, I give up and just duck my head down and let her pull me through the crowds towards our seats. 

I could spot Trevor's bright red hair from a mile away as him and Beckie sit in the seats beside the hallway, leading to the teams dressing rooms. 

"Hey! Perfect timing, the game is about to start!" Beckie shouts once we reach our seats. 

"Hi, guys." 

Giving them both a grin, I sit down on the inside seat.

"You both coming to dinner afterward?" Morgan asks, looking between Trevor and Beckie with a hopeful smile.

"Wish I could guys, but I gotta get home to watch my sister. My parents are leaving again tonight. Something about an important business opportunity," Beckie grumbles as she rolls her eyes and starts shoving popcorn in her mouth.

"Not me either, I got a hot date with my English lit paper. You girls are lucky you get to even be in my presence at all tonight," Trevor chimes in with a playful gleam in his eyes.

"You sure it's with an essay and not the cute barista you've been raving about for weeks now? What was his name? Collin?" I look over and lift my eyebrow, questioning him. He's been fawning over this Collin guy for a couple of months now, he just won't make a move.

"Hmm...You'll never know," he answers slyly and turns to face the ice as the lights dim and the starting lineup is announced.

~~~

There are twelve minutes to go in the second period and the Saints are up three to two.

It's when an Eagles defensemen illegally cross-checks Braden Lowry. our top defensemen, that I take notice of Number Eleven, Oakley Hutton for the first time.

I watch anxiously as he skates over, grabs the player's jersey, and forcefully spins him around. Oakley drops his gloves and sends a hard right hook straight to the defensemen's jaw. Before the poor guy can get a hit in, Oakley is throwing another punch, this time at his opponent's abdomen. 

He continues his brutal beat down, his lips moving as he says something to the losing instigator. 

Oakley's quite tall, at least six feet without skates on as he towers over his opponent on the ice. I can't get a good view with all his hockey gear in the way, but by the strength of the hits and the fact the Eagle's player is now being carried off the ice towards the dressing room, I get the feeling he's definitely not lacking in the muscle department.

I feel someone lightly jab me in the side and look over to see Morgan leaning in towards my ear. "That's the new guy I was telling you about. Boy sure knows how to fight."

She looks at me with a playful glimmer in her eyes before her features tighten up in anger. "What the hell! He's being ejected from the game!" I jerk my head forward and am immediately met with a pair of raging green eyes. 

He's definitely pissed about the referees call, no surprise there. His eyebrows are deeply furrowed and his mouth is in a tight line as he furiously stalks down the hallway towards the dressing room. 

My eyes are locked on his, unable to move until he disappears from view, leaving my mouth unbelievably dry. 

~~~

"Do you two know each other or something? That sure was a heated staring contest." 

Looking over at Morgan, I roll my eyes as she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

We say our goodbyes to Beckie and Trevor once we get outside the arena before I answer her. 

"Don't even start. He'll be lucky not to get suspended for that," I state matter-of-factly. "Any chance you can go without me tonight?" 

Morgan lets out an exasperated sigh as we reach her car. "You're joking, right? They so had it coming. And no way, you're definitely coming. It's about time you got back on the horse again." 

Easy for her to say. 

"David was a total prick. He's been out of the picture for a year now. You can't let what happened keep you away from trying again," she finishes with a sympathetic look.

David was my high school boyfriend. We ended up dating for 3 years, and let's just say we didn't exactly have the best breakup, or relationship, honestly.

"You ever think maybe it isn't even David keeping me from a relationship? What if I just want to focus on school? Why do I have to have a guy in my life? Let alone another hockey player," I snap. "Just because you got lucky with Matthew doesn't mean I'm going to have the same luck."

Watching as she flinches back at my harsh tone, I let out a loud sigh. What's one night of torture if it means your best friend is happy? 

"But for you, and only you, I will go. But only for an hour, then I'm leaving. Okay?"

"Okay, okay. I'll drop it. I'm sorry babe." She reaches over and gives my hand a squeeze before starting the car.

"I get to pick the music there." I get in and grab her AUX cord before she has time to argue with me.