Leo

I never thought I'd find myself in a place like Stockholm, Sweden. Ever. 

After our plane landed, Mom and I met up with Rosa and Luke. Because Aria had practice early this afternoon before tonight's big opening game, they took us out for lunch and then showed us to our hotel, which is the same one they're staying in. I had thought we'd be able to stay in the same hotel as Aria, but apparently, the one they're in has been rented out for all foreign athletes. That's okay, though, because Mom and I have separate rooms. I have a feeling Aria had a hand in this, but I'm cool with that. It means Aria's able to slip away from the team and come stay with me for a couple of nights. Or the whole two weeks I'm here. Whichever she prefers. 

"Hey," Aria says, poking me in the side. "Where's your head?"

I slide my arm around her waist and pull her close. "Just thinking about what we're going to do while we're here."

"Well," Aria says, resting her head on my shoulder. "I'm going to be working my ass off in order to bring gold home for Canada. I don't know what you're going to be doing."

"A lot," I shrug. "Cheering for you, exploring, admiring the architecture."

"That's what you think, she replies. "Just wait until the jet lag hits you. You're gonna be suffering tomorrow, Leo. Mark my words."

I don't doubt her words. Although I'm excited to explore Stockholm and take thousands of pictures of their beautifully coloured buildings and cheer for Aria at every single game with Mom and Aria's parents, I can already feel the exhaustion setting into my bones. Technically, it's night back home in Newfoundland. I've only been here for a few hours. I can't imagine what I'm going to feel like tonight at the game, let alone tomorrow. "I'll figure out a way to deal with it."

"Of course you will," she smiles. "You always figure something out."

I have a response for her, but just as I'm about to say something, I notice that she's twiddling her thumbs, which is something she does when she's nervous. As I calculate what I can say to her to help calm her nerves before tonight's game, I look her over, taking in every detail. Because she wanted to display our country's pride while acting like a tourist, she's wearing her jersey, her name and the number sixteen on the back. Many people around us are staring, whispering about Aria Madden and Leo Sangster, the iconic Canadian couple. The golfer and the hockey player. 

I don't want anyone overhearing our conversation and potentially spreading rumours online about Aria being too nervous to play or something stupid like that, so I take her hand and pull her down the nearest alleyway. I have no idea where the hell I'm going or if this area of the city is safe or not, but we need to have this conversation.

"Where are you taking me?" she asks as we jog down the cobblestone surface. "To be murdered? Alleyways are iconic for murdering people."

"I'm not going to murder you," I laugh, stopping at the end of the alleyway. It's a brick wall, painted with some kind of mural. It's just as beautiful as the architecture of the city. "I wanted some privacy. People were staring at us."

She cocks an eyebrow. "Of course they are. We have a very important game tonight."

"And you're nervous about it," I say.

Her cheeks turn slightly pink. "So?"

"So, let's talk about it. Why are you nervous? You've known you're the captain since the summer, you've been training for this for months, and your line is stellar. What is there to worry about?"

"Letting my country down? I know, I know. It sounds like it's no big deal. Maybe I'm just overreacting."

I smirk at her. "Is it bad that your sarcasm is a total turn-on?"

Her eyes flick downward for a brief moment before she locks her gaze with mine again. "Leo, this game tonight, and the rest that follow are international. I'm used to playing on Canadian and American TV stations, and that only occurs on rare occasions. Not worldwide ones. Not to mention, there's going to be a huge group of people watching me. It's scary, being captain and literally having the weight of Canada on my shoulders."

"Technically, the weight of Canada is on the entire team."

Aria shakes her head, rubbing the heel of her hand against her jawbone. "They always expect more out of the captain."

I rest my hands on her shoulders, my fingers tangling with her hair that hangs freely. "I'm not used to having to help you regulate your stress, but I'm going to try my best. Aria, what's the main goal, aside from winning, of playing hockey?"

"To have fun," she replies without hesitation. 

"Exactly," I reply. "So that's how you need to view this game tonight. Put in all the effort you can, make excellent plays, and try to win, but also have fun. This is a once-in-a-lifetime-chance and you'll regret letting stress rule you, trust me. If the team loses, the loss won't be allocated to you and you alone. Yes, the media will probably try and blame you. I'm not going to sugar coat it. But as long as you know it wasn't entirely your fault, everything will be okay." A lopsided smile appears on my face. "Unless you, y'know, shoot at the wrong net."

Aria gives me a light shove. "I think I know the difference between the opponent's net and my own."

Playfully, I tickle her side. She tries to worm away from me, but I encase her in my arms and plant a kiss on the tip of her nose. "Good to know." I pause, searching her eyes. "So, are we good?"

Aria, though she still looks a little uneasy, has calmed down a little. Which she shows when he laces her fingers with mine and says, "Let's go be tourists before jet lag catches up with you."

*  *  *

The biggest surprise about tonight's game is the number of Canadian fans there are. Everywhere I look, I see red, black, and white jerseys. I see jerseys from the Vancouver Canucks, Calgary Flames, Toronto Maple Leafs. Basically, I see every single Canadian NHL team's logo. I also see a lot of jerseys with Aria's name and number on them, which is no surprise. It's nice to see the women's league getting some attention for once. I hope that one day, women across Canada and the USA will have their own league that matches that of the men's.

Beside me, I feel someone grab my arm and lightly squeeze it. I'm so lost in my own thoughts that it surprises me. So much so that I try to jerk away. However, when I realize it's just my mom, I calm down.

"Isn't this exciting?" she asks, excitement in her voice. Just like me, Rosa, Luke, and Jax, she's also wearing a Madden jersey. I look at the prominent C that's been stitched into the breathable fabric, as well as the number sixteen on the bicep of the sleeve. It was difficult for me to memorize all the numbers of the players for those tricky times when you can't see their names on the back of their jerseys, but I eventually managed to do so. Aria's was easiest to memorize, obviously, but not in the way most people would think. According to Aria and the entire Internet, Luke's number was sixteen throughout his whole NHL career. It's also the number that's hanging in the rafters at the Saddledome in Calgary. The fact that Luke wore the number sixteen is the main reason Aria decided to wear it. It's kind of silly, but dad stories always hit me in the heart. 

"It is," I smile, holding my ticket out to be scanned. "I can understand why Aria was so nervous earlier today."

"She always gets nervous before games," Rosa says over her shoulder. "But once she hits the ice, she's calm, cool, and collected. Just wait until you see her play under pressure like this. She thrives under it."

"Something she inherited from me!" Luke calls over his shoulder. Already, he's been approached by fans, and at this very moment, he's dealing with three more, signing their tickets and jerseys. The tickets are a strange thing to have signed, in my opinion, but not nearly as weird as the man who asked Luke to sign the wrapper for the churro he had been munching on when he ran into us on the streets. 

Rosa gives me a look. "He always has to take credit."

While Mom laughs, making a comment about how Dad was very similar in that effect, I take this as the opportunity to check out and marvel at the area surrounding me. This is the biggest arena I've ever been in, and I think it's already at maximum capacity. There has to be at least three thousand people here already, which is insane. And I continue to marvel over the small aspects of the arena as Luke guides us to our seats. I breathe in the buttery-chemical smell of popcorn as we weave through the crowded space, noting that my shoes stick to the ground every once in a while. I take note of the small stands where people can buy noisemakers and different memorabilia, ranging from Canadian-based products to Finnish ones to German ones. It's actually quite amazing to see how all these different countries can come together to play sports and create a unified feel to the arena. Some of us may be cheering for different teams, but we're all on the same page: we're here to watch some countries and stand beneath our flags with pride. 

When we arrive at our seats, which are adjacent to Canada's bench, both teams are already out on the ice warming up for the big game ahead. Scarlett is the first one to notice us, so she grabs Aria's attention, pointing in our direction. None of them has their helmets on yet, aside from the goalie, so when Aria begins to skate over, her hair that's been tied up into a low ponytail blowing in the weak breeze, I'm momentarily breathless. She looks like a force to be reckoned with. I'm both excited and nervous for this game. 

When she's at the plexiglass, she waves at us, a small smile on her face. It's easy to tell that she's nervous, but I can also see the look of determination in her eyes. She's ready for this game, even if she doesn't feel like she is. Due to the plexiglass, a wave is all she can really give us and vice versa. I wish I could giver her one more mini-pep-talk, just be sure she's not going to let her nerves control her, but I trust her. Besides, if what Rosa said about Aria's mindset is true, then the situation is golden.

"Who do you think will score the first goal?" Mom asks. 

"As much as I want to say Aria," Luke begins. "I can't. She's a very strategic player and prefers to set up plays as opposed to scoring all the goals. Lauren or Scarlett will score the first goal, but Aria will definitely have an assist."

"Honey," Rosa says, resting her hand on Luke's arm. "You have to choose one player."

Luke gives Rosa a look. "So we're betting, are we?"

"Yes," Mom and Rosa reply in unison. 

"Fine," Luke says, leaning back in his chair. "Lauren will score first. She's always got herself positioned at the front of the net, waiting for the tip-in."

"Scarlett will score first," Mom says. "I don't know much about hockey, but I did see Aria and Scarlett play together during practice. They both have chemistry. And if what you, Luke, said about Aria preferring to set people up, then who better to set-up than the person you have natural chemistry with?"

Rosa shoots an unimpressed glance between the two of them, and then looks at me. "Please tell me I'm not the only one who believes Aria is going to score the first goal. I can understand where the two of you are coming from when you say that, but Aria's captain this year. She'll want to make a statement saying she came here to play and she's serious about winning."

I shake my head. "You're not. She's got this one in the bag. Want to split the winnings?"

"Sounds perfect," she smiles. "Speaking of the bet...How much are we each betting?"

"Twenty bucks," Luke replies. "In Canadian currency, of course. It would only make sense. You in Jax?"

"Nah," he replies. "But if I had to choose a player, I'd choose Leigh from the second line. She's got a promising wrist shot."

"Yeah," I drawl, referring back to Luke's comment. "Because the Olympics are totally taking place in Canada."

Luke looks like he has some type of comment to throw at me, but just as he's about to, the lights dim and the announcer comes on, asking us all to rise to our feet and remove out hats for the national anthems. 

The national anthems for Canada and Germany take about five minutes, give or take, and then, before we know it, the puck has dropped. I don't know when I became so immersed in the game of hockey, but my heart rate instantly picks up and excitement and nerves begin to clash. It's a feeling I never want to let go of. The first five minutes of the first period is action-packed. Both teams are fairly evenly matched for speed and technique, resulting in a lot of plays in the neutral zone. There are some pretty good chances on each end to score, but both goalies are on top of their game tonight. 

However, when Aria's line comes out for their next shift, at the nine-minute mark, the tables turn quickly. Due to an odd bounce past the blue line, Scarlett gains possession of the puck and takes off towards Germany's net against one defensive player. And Aria joins her soon after, creating a. beautiful two-on-one. 

The passes between Aria and Scarlett are precise, fooling the helpless defensive player. But nothing compares to the moment when Aria fakes a wrist shot, fooling the goalie to move to her right, and fires a rocket-speed slap-shot past her. The goal horn goes off and the crowd loses their mine. Including me. Within an instant, I'm on my feet, Mom, Rosa, Luke, and Jax beside me, cheering my heart out. 

I'm happy my home country has taken the lead, but what makes everything all the more worth it, is the fact that Aria is smiling and having fun like she's supposed to be. The big smile on her face says it all. 

I don't know if my heart is going to be able to make it through the game without slipping into cardiac arrest, but if I somehow manage to survive, I'm taking Aria out to celebrate. No matter what the outcome of this game is, we're going out and owning the city of Stockholm, Sweden. We're going to celebrate.

Celebrate the fact that her dreams have come true. That I passed my first semester and my grades this semester are looking promising. That we finished the bucket list and created memories last summer. 

We're going to celebrate that we're here, moving forward together.