~KIMBERLY'S POV~

I meet guys from University of Minnesota and University of Minnesota Duluth in front of the hotel we are staying during the tryouts. It doesn't take long for me to realize joining those guys was a great choice. They are fun, outgoing people and even few of those, who aren't really the talkers, loosen up a bit and join the conversation. I try to talk with one of the guys from University of Minnesota-Duluth, Mark Pavelich, but he is one of the quiet ones. And I swear I have never met anyone who would talk as little as he did.

"So, how is UMD?" I ask him while waiting for few of the guys to show up.

"Just an ordinary university," he shrugs his shoulders and zips up his jacket. It's obvious he doesn't really like talking. Someone puts his hand on my shoulder and I turn around. A guy who patted my shoulder is John Harrington, also a student of University of Minnesota-Duluth, a really tall forward with huge smile, which never seems to disappear.

"Don't mind him, Pav doesn't talk a lot. Really, don't take it personally. Are you ready to go?"

"Sure thing. Uh, what do you guys usually do when you are out?"

John grins and I suspect what the answer could be. And I wasn't wrong.

"Just, ya know, normal things. Drink, chat, flirt with girls we will probably never have, stuff like that. Enjoy our time, to sum things up."

"Why did I even ask, I should've known?"
"What do you do when you go out?"

"I don't often go out...but when my teammates and I go out, we normally drink, dance, check cute guys out and maybe hook up with them, gossip about other girls and guys from our school...pretty normal things, I must say."

"And then you judge us?" he grins and drapes arm around me "Let's go while the night is still young."

And now I am here with guys from Minnesota. Thanks to them, no guy dares to approach me. Well, about ten well-built hockey players surround me and I am sure no guy at the right mind would be brave enough to try and get in their middle. Not that I am complaining, Schneider and Dave Christian turn out to be a great company. And Verchota keeps my glass full. If I started the evening with a beer, I continue it with glasses of water and juice since I don't want to spend my first practice holding back vomit or with dizzy head. Tried it several times and trust me, that is not even remotely fun. Especially with coach giving remarks all the time. Plus, this is an Olympic Team and going by the stories of the guys who either played or play for Brooks, coach doesn't want to have any players with hangover on his team.

"So why do you drink that much?" I yell over loud music to John, who apparently doesn't hear me, so I try again. This time I try to get his attention by pulling a sleeve of his shirt.

"Yes?"
"Why do you drink so much?"

He shrugs his shoulders and takes another sip before setting his glass down and heading over to the table where some blonde girls sit.

"So,Dave , how long have you been playing? And where" I turn to Davey, which caught my attention during the tryouts because of his amazing haircut. He looks up from his test and thinks for a bit: "For so long I don't really remember when I started playing. What about you? And I play for University of North Dakota. And if I am not mistaken, you play for...Brown, right?"
"Yeah, who told you that?"

He ruffles his hair: "Well, you are a girl...of course everyone talks of a wonder girl who made the team."

I feel blush creeping up my cheeks at his words. I should've expected something like that, but...still, it feels odd knowing the guys have been probably talking about the only girl on the team.

"Uh, that's an honor, I guess..."
"Don't worry, majority of us likes you and considers you as one of us."

Raising my brow, I take a sip of my drink: "Majority of you?"

"Well, some of the guys have some issues with a girl being their teammate. Really, don't bother, they'll have to get over it eventually."

Jack O'Callahan is surely one of them I think to myself and smile at Dave: "Thanks, Dave. How come you are not chasing girls around?"

He lifts papers in the air: "Test first, girls later. How's your test going?"

"I finished it while waiting for you guys to get ready. It wasn't that hard, really?"
"What are you, some kind of a genius?"

"No, not really, I just like to study...and the test really got me thinking."
"Can you do mine as well?" he asks with a goofy and hopeful grin. I shake my head in response: "Nope, that's what you have to do on your own."

"Oh, come on! I want to have some fun, not work on some test."
"Sorry, Davey, I am not solving your test, but I can try and help you, okay?"
"You would do that?"
"Sure thing."

I move my chair next to him and tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear before looking at the questions.

Soon after we start working on his test, John comes back and I grin up at him: "Your flirting was unsuccessful?"
"We could say. Oh, you two working on the test?"

"Yeah, have you finished yours?"
He plops down next to me and throws papers on the table: "How does it look to you?"

"Like you are not even close to finishing the test. Come on, join us."

We are halfway through the test when I hear someone yell: "Hey, Rizzo!" I turn over my shoulder and see Rob McClanahan and Mark Johnson walk into a bar. Soon after their entrance Rob high-fives the guys and playfully smacks back of my head: "Good to see ya here, Kim. How's going?"
"Good, how are you guys?"

"Can't complain, really," Mark smiles and takes the seat across mine. "Except for this test..."

"You haven't done it yet?"

Now I am honestly surprised how much they don't like to take tests. It's not like it is a school paper, looks more like of a psychological test Herb had us all taken to see how far can he go with practices.

"No. Have you?"
"Well, yeah, I did. Come on, guys, no one has done it yet?"

Buzz lifts stack of papers in the air and leans back on his chair: "Just finished."

"No one except Buzzy?"

"Hey, what can I say, we thought we came here to play hockey," Verchota explains and empties his glass in three long chugs. "Okay, guys, I will finish this test later, right now, I need some time off."

With that he leaves the table and soon he disappears in the crowd.

"He always like that?" I ask the other guys and roll my eyes slightly. John takes a chug of his beer: "Most of the time. He is not the only one though..."
"I can see that. Okay, Dave and Bah, did you finish?"
Both guys hand me their finished tests with huge grins: "Thank you for your help, Kim."

"Anytime. Uh, guys, thank you for taking me with you, but I will be going now. I need some sleep."

"Awww, you need your beauty sleep?" Dave laughs, earning a smack on the back of his head from me.

"No, Davey-boy, I have to rest because I don't want to be passed out on tomorrow's practice. So I guess I will see you party animals tomorrow at the practice," I take my jacket off my chair and put it on.

"You need someone to walk you back?" Johnson sounds concerned and starts getting up from his chair. I gently push him back: "No, thanks. I will be just fine. Thanks again, Mark."

Just before I step out, I see guys from Boston sitting separately and I wave at the only guy I've talked so far, David Silk. With a small smile he waves goodbye. What I don't notice, is Jack's death stare.

The cold air outside hits me like a lightening and I wrap myself tighter into a jacket while walking down the empty streets to our hotel. The only thing I do when I get back to my room safely, is fall on my bed fully clothed and fall asleep immediately.

~JACK'S POV~

If anyone expected guys from Boston to hang out with Minnesotans...well, he was wrong. Guys from Minnesota are on the other side of the bar, doing exactly the same thing as we do- taking tests Herb gave us.

"You get stopped by a policeman, but you're not at fault. Do you state your disagreement right away?" Silky read the question and flips through pages with shocked expression on his face before looking up: 'He's got 300 of these things."

Rizzo, being the reasonable and oldest one, smiles and gestures: "It's just a test, Silky. Don't pretend you haven't taken a few at the university."

Silky looks at his older teammate: "Not to play hockey, I haven't."

That's when Cox has to become his goofy self again: "Can you even read, Silky?"

With a tiny grin on his face, my Boston buddy answers, making us all crack a smile or a laugh: "I try." Even I can't keep a straight face, even though the number of questions I have to ask should make me cry, not laugh. Everything changes when someone calls Rizzo's name and we all look at the direction of the sound. McClanahan. With that smug smile he continues: "What's going on?"

As Rizzo smiles and greets him with a raise of his hand, I huff loudly and stare after him and Johnson, who stop at the Minnesota table. Coxy turns around, following the direction I was looking before turning away while Rizzo turn around only to see me staring right at him, jaws clenched.

"Easy, big guy."

With another huff, I honestly tell what I really feel about him: "I don't know how you can sit in the same room with that clown."

Honestly, I don't know how he can be so calm: "Let it go. It's over. Let it go." That makes me to stare at him with even colder expression. Both, Silky and Coxy, feel the tension growing and Coxy finally asks while bringing his glass of beer to his lips: "What's going on here?"

Before Rizzo can answer, Silk explains since he is the only one who knows what was really happening the last time University of Minnesota and Boston University met on the ice. Eventhough, we didn't make it to the playoff of the Nationals, I still blame Gophers for it. And McClanahan annoys me for no reason, but he was a Gopher. And he seems like a rich kid who is used to get everything he wants.

"OC' s got some old unfinished business. Although I don't know what's about McClanahan that bothers him," Silky nods his head in the direction of Minnesotan table.

"Not for long, I don't. And what bothers me? His rich-ass-I-am-better-than-you appearance. That guy actually hid his wallet in his shoe, " I oppose him and look at the test, expecting this debate to be over for us. But...I was wrong.

"What did I tell you, man?" Rizzo says loudly and mouths:" Let it go."

Finally, Coxy gets what the fuss is all about: "The Gophers? You are still not going on about the bloodbath in the semifinals of NCAA against the U, are you? Come on, OC, that was like...3 years ago. And McClanahan didn't even play back then, I believe"
He leans back on his chair, a smile on his face. Like he doesn't believe me I can be mad about anything like that.

"You know what, Coxy, lemme ask you a question," now it's my turn to lean back on my chair and look at him.

"Why did ya wanna play college hockey?"

Coxy, still being a goof, thinks I am joking. When I am not.

"I-Isn't it obvious? For the girls," he chuckles, taking a sip of his beer and making Rizzo try hard not to burst out laughing.

"I am serious, Coxy. Why did you wanna play college hockey?" I ask again, this time loudly. Coxy quickly glimpses around before answering: "'Cause I love to play hockey, alright. I want to go to the NHL, just like everybody does."

"Well, I wanted to win national championship one more time. Just one more time. But guess what. Those rich privileged kids cheap shot us at any given chance, but I get tossed out of the game and those whinnies makes it to the playoffs where they steal the championship ring off my finger! We had to play against Brown for third place. And they beat us 7 to 8. How would you feel?"

"Come on, OC, Boston won the championship in 1978. And you were MOP, remember?" Silky joins in before Coxy can answer.

Something apparently boggles Coxy's mind: "Wait, you played against Brown university in '76? Is that why you hate Kim?"

Rizzo of course wouldn't be Rizzo if he didn't try to be a voice of reason, the calm and reasonable one: "Everyone was throwing cheap shots that night, okay? They just played better than we did, Jack."
This time, his goddamn calmness pisses me off. With a comment from Ralphie and his calmness, I feel like I am going to beat someone. How can they be so stupid?  Where is that eruption everyone talks about? About how his last name in Italian describes him as a hockey player. Explosive?

"You know, Rizzo, is funny you say that. 'Cause I was just wondering what side you are on?" I lean forward on my chair and keep my gaze on dark-haired hockey player sitting near me. He lifts his hands in defeat: "Why do you have to ask that? I am on your side!"

"You know it really seems this way," I toss my pen on the table and lean back on my chair once again. Coxy sticks up with Rizzo: "Alright, just relax, okay? Jeez."

And what is Silky doing while those two try to calm me down? Don't know, but I figure it out when I catch a glimpse of that girl who is supposed to be our teammate wave at Silky and disappear. Not only that Minnesotan pansy is here, coach selected a girl to be on the team.

After Rizzo and Coxy team up against me and Silky obviously is too busy checking Brown girl out, I gather up my papers and mumble while standing up: "I am not doing this right now. I am outta here."
"Where are you going?" Rizzo's voice rings through my ear and I look at him once again: "To my room. Is that alright with you? Mother?"

Not waiting for him to answer, I hurry out, but make sure I don't come closer to that girl than I have to. Last thing I need right now is some chick trying to pretend she is my teammate.

Just one thing. She has never been and she will never be my teammate. EVER.