Chapter Five

AN: I'm going to try to make this chapter longer than the ones before.


"Dinner?" He smiled, "sure?" I replied. "That doesn't sound like an answer, it sounds more like a question." "Oh, really? I mean- Sure, why not?" I said, trying to look confident. He smiled at me, "Well, there's a game tomorrow, so how about you come to the game and afterward we can go out for dinner?" He stated. "Sorry, I didn't buy any tickets, I'm not really a big fan of hockey. Actually, come to think of it, I'm not even a fan of hockey. No offense." He laughed, "Non-taken. And don't worry about it, I'll leave you a ticket at will call." "Uh, okay? Wait- What's will call?" That really had him going, does he think I'm some stupid loser now? "Just look for the sign that says will call okay?" "Yup." I smiled at him.

Unbelievable, one minute I was shouting at Sidney Crosby and calling him an asshole and next I'm getting asked out? What the hell is going on? I am so confused.

The next day is when I started panicking, and when everything started sinking in. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to wear? I'm going to a hockey game, am I supposed to wear a jersey? Should I buy a jersey? I mean, if I did would I get the one that has Crosby pasted on the back? So many questions, so little time. I ended up wearing a striped, red, three quarter sleeve shirt, black jeans and black boots. God, we better not be going to a fancy, formal dinner.

Once I got to the arena, I started looking for the will call booth. And gladly enough, it was easy to find. Rink-side seats and backstage passes. The players came soon enough, and I spotted an Crosby/87 jersey near. He was doing stretches, and I couldn't help but stare at his ass. That's some big ass.

The Pittsburgh Penguins won against the Atlanta Thrashers. 4-2. (AN: See what I did there? ;)) And, it was an amazing game. The momentum that the fans give the team was just so energizing and loud and unbelievable, that it made me chant along with them and it kept me at the edge of my seat. It was amazing and incredible. Maybe I am a fan of hockey all along.

Trying to find the locker room was a little more difficult than finding the will call booth. I had to ask about three workers, before I finally found the door that had the penguin sing in it and a big tall guy standing beside it. "Who are you here for, miss?" He asked. "Uh, Sidney Crosby." I told him lamely. His response shocked me, why was he laughing? Did he think I was lying? I really over-think things to much. I Sighed. "Are you sure? Or, maybe you're really here for Maxime Talbot." "Who?" I asked, confused, "What number is his jersey?" He laughed even louder. "25" he said in between breaths. "Oh, yea. I mean no, I'm here for #87 Sidney Crosby." "Okay" He said, still in between breaths. He opened the door for me.

The smell of axe and sweat hit me hard. It stinks. "Ugh, this is going to give me a headache." I muttered to myself. I sat down on one of the benches, literally not knowing what to do and feeling completely left out and not belonged. I really hope Sidney Crosby wont take too long. There we're a lot of people here, mostly girls with long legs and wavy or straight shiny hair and different jerseys that were a probably a size too big for them. Half of them staring at me and the other half pretending I didn't exist. "Hi, I'm Vero. I'm Marc Andre's girlfriend." This girl said, extending her manicured hand for me to shake. "I'm Isabella, and I don't even know what I'm doing here other than I'm suppose to meeting or waiting for someone here." I said, shaking her hand. "Yea, you really look out of place." She smiled and I laughed. "So, who are you waiting for? Max?" She asked. "Who the hell is this Max, and why do people keep thinking I'm here for him?" "That would be me, Madamoiselle." This handsome guy, with a wonderful french accent said, totally surprising me. "You must be Isabella, Sidney told me all about you. He's right you know? You are feisty and sassy. I like sassy." I just laughed at him. "Hi, nice to meet you...Max." I said, extending my hand for him to shake.

"Wait- Sidney? You're here for Sidney?" Vero asked. I nodded my head, and pursed my lips. Why are all of these people so surprised that I was asked to come here by Sidney Crosby?

"I'm sorry if that came out rude, it's not you. It's Sidney. Like, seriously?" She said, turning her head to Maxime Talbot. "Oui, Captain has a date tonight." He replied. "Wow, who would've thought. Just when you think Sid is gay, he surprises as all by setting his sights on you." She said. "Excuse me?" I retorted. "Oh, no! Don't take it the wrong way. It's just that Sidney has always been so focused in hockey that we all thought that he's either gay or that he has a crush at Lord Stanley." She stated. "Lord Stanley?" "The Stanley cup." Vero replied. "Oh." After that there was an awkward silence. And a gay baby is born! "Hey let me introduce you to the rest of the wives and girlfriends. If you're going to be Sid's future girlfriend or wife, I need to show you to the group." Vero said excitingly. "Um, sure why not?" The rest of the wives and girlfriends. They sound like a hockey groupie. I am not going to be a part of a groupie, no matter how sweet and nice they all are.

It's been 35 minutes since the game ended, and no sights of Sidney Crosby. So far, I've met Matt Cooke's wife (Jersey #24), Pascal Dupuis's wife (Jersey #9), and Evgeni Malkin's girlfriend (Jersey #71 and the guy who had three goals today) and so many other people. Too bad Hilary Duff wasn't here, because apparently her husband played for the Penguins. Who knew?

5 minutes after, Sidney finally came out. Just in time, because I sure am hungry. "Sorry I kept you waiting Isabella." "Just Bella." "What you don't like you're full name?" He asked. "No, not really." I told him plainly. "I actually really hate it." He laughed, a laugh so loud and girly and cute that it made me laugh too. "Where do you want to eat?" He asked. "Um, anywhere I guess. Except McDonald's, I read somewhere that one time this lady was eating some chicken nuggets and she found the head of the chicken in her nuggets." I told him, while remembering that disgusting image of that lady holding that chicken's head in a nugget with her hands. "Thanks for telling my that wonderful story of yours. Now I'm craving some McDonald's." "Date's off then, any guy that wants to eat at McDonald's for a first date is a big turn off for me." I told him. "Don't worry, I was being sarcastic. Besides I have better plans than eating at McDonald's." He laughed.

I was wrong, Sidney Crosby is anything but an asshole. Im starting to think that there's more to him than just a hockey player. He's a genuine sweet guy, unlike some people I know. Correction: I knew.