𝐑 𝐎 𝐒 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐄 ' 𝐒    𝐏 𝐎 𝐕

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭...

Maybe criminal charges would have been better than having to spend more time with Roman. There is no doubt that Coach Henderson is sitting in his office getting a good kick out of our misery, if what Miles said about Coach thriving off their pain in practice is true.

Throwing my head back and sighing, I stand outside of the arena doors. Like I have been doing for the past ten minutes, trying to get the courage to go inside. As well as secretly hoping the arena might burst into flames before I can.

The harsh, frigid air hits me as soon as I pull the hockey arena door open. Rubbing my hands together, I pull my warm oversized jacket tighter around my body and as the door shuts behind me, I'm met with silence. The arena lights are bright, allowing my eyes to focus on the only other person in the arena who is currently on the ice.

Making my way over to the rink, I watch as he skates around on the ice. His eyes catch mine when I lean my arms against the wall. He skates over, his face as neutral as ever, until his eyes land on my jacket and a scowl takes over his face. Coming to a stop at the other side of me, he towers over me as always and his blonde eyebrows furrow, as if he can't believe what he's seeing.

"That's offensive."

Furrowing my own eyebrows now, I look down at my LA chargers' jacket before looking back up at him. "My jacket?"

"Who walks into a hockey arena wearing a football jacket? From another state too?"

I roll my eyes as he rests his arms on the wall next to mine and I breathe out a sigh. "I come from a football family. My dad considers hockey treason."

"Treason? Really?" Roman scoffs, shaking his head, and I nod my own in confirmation.

"He takes it seriously," I defend, pursing my lips and shrugging my shoulders. "And this is my act of rebellion for being forced to spend time with you because I knew it would piss you off."

"Trust me, spending time with you isn't my first choice either." Roman walks into the box and heads to the bleachers where his gym bag sits. "I'm guessing your hatred of ice hockey has to do with your dad thinking hockey is treason, then?"

"I don't hate ice hockey. It's a good sport. A certain player, however...I'm not a fan of." I smirk, remaining stood up, and he narrows his eyes at me before roaming through his bag.

"Of course. So that's why you don't know how to skate? Because you come from a football family?" Roman questions, as he takes a sip of water from his bottle.

"That and in L.A we go surfing, not ice skating," I chuckle, shaking my head before I check the watch I'm wearing. "Speaking of, why are you here so early? We were supposed to meet at eight and it has just turned eight."

"I come early to skate around. It's not something we get to do at practice, and I enjoy it. It's calming." Roman shrugs, giving me a blank stare.

"What does helping with the youth hockey group consist of, anyway? Do they need a real teacher rather than someone who frolics around on the ice?" I cross my arms, giving a wide grin.

"If that was the case, the coach would have asked the Zamboni driver. He spends more time on the ice than you do." Roman leans his hands on the back of the bleacher he's sitting on.

"Will he run you over with it if I ask?" I grit my teeth and a smirk overtakes Roman's face before he stands up and walks away.

"The kids arrive at half eight and we begin practice at nine," Roman explains, and I follow him to wherever he's going. "Between now and then, we set up. I set up the rink with the cones and other training equipment. As well as the table that has the check in sheet on as well as beverages and a few snacks for the kids."

"I'm guessing that second one is now my job?" I question, and he nods his head, opening the cupboard door and turning the light on.

"I do both, not that I mind. But it will be your job to check the kids in when they arrive and make sure they have all their equipment. If not, we have some spares." Roman rummages through the cupboard before handing me a box.

"You're enjoying bossing me around, aren't you?" I raise my eyebrow and the twitch in his cheek as he grabs a fold-up table lets me know he enjoys it.

"Who me? Never." Roman walks past and I follow him, once again. He sets up the table before I unpack what is in the box and he goes to grab snacks and beverages from the concession stand in the arena. Handing him the cones, he heads back to the ice to set up and I start to place the beverages, snacks, and the sign-up sheet on the table.

Finishing up by placing the check in sheet in the middle of the table, the door opening gets my attention. Kids dressed in their kits and their parents, who carry their hockey equipment, walk into the arena. Roman skates off the ice before making his way over to me, welcoming the kids as they make their way over. As he gives them high fives, I pick up the sign-in sheet.

"Hey guys, this is my friend Rosalie. She's going to be helping from now on, so you guys can check in through her and let her know if you need any equipment. Once you have, suit up and meet me on the ice," Roman explains to all the kids and I see his eye twitch when he says the word friend. I wonder how much effort that took.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, the kids one by one line up to tell me their names and whether they need their equipment. Roman disappears onto the ice and by the time I've finished signing all the kids in, they make their way onto the ice as some parents introduce themselves to me.

Once Roman ensures all the kids are on the ice and ready, the practice begins. Sitting down on the bleachers with the parents of the kids, I sit and watch the practice.

Willingly.

❈❈❈

"He did what?!"

Cara screeches, slapping her hands down on the restaurant table that we're sitting at, as I reach over to grab a bread roll from the basket that sits in the center of the table. Octavia jumps at Cara's response and my eyes flicker over to the closest tables near ours as they are glaring at us. I smile sheepishly at them before shushing Cara.

"Inside voice, babe," Octavia reminds Cara, who waves her off, as she doesn't care how loud she is being. Octavia scoffs. "We really can't take you anywhere."

Chuckling, I shake my head as I tear the bread apart and throw some into my mouth, before reciting what happened with Roman during the youth hockey group practice. "The asshole swiped my phone and stood in the middle of the ice taunting me. He claimed it was initiation or whatever, something the kids and the parents found hilarious. So, I had to walk onto the ice with my shoes and fell on my ass in front of everyone."

Cara grumbles under her breath as she stabs her fork into the pasta that sits in front of her. "You know good and well that initiation stunt was bullshit."

"I'm guessing this means you don't have a newfound interest for hockey now, then?" Tavia laughs and I shake my head.

"Never in a million years," I agree, before carrying on eating my meal. "I even wore my dad's football varsity jacket to practice to piss Roman off."

"So, what are you going to do as payback?" Octavia questions, knowing my mind is already on getting Roman back. As I eat my pasta dish, I let my thoughts travel to different payback ideas.

"Well, we're not breaking and entering again." Cara points her fork at me. "Unless we break into the hockey house and put makeup on his face."

"The guys already did that to him, remember? Then Isaiah gave me the picture, and I circulated it through campus." I purse my lips as I rattle my brain for an idea and my eyes widen before I look at Tavia. "Can you text Isaiah and ask him if Roman is there?"

"Sure," Tavia replies as she types on her phone. "He says Roman is in his room. They went to a bar, and he brought some girl home," Tavia explains, and an evil grin lights up my face. "I don't like that look you have."

"What's Roman's number?" I ask and she gives it to me. Since we don't have each other's numbers, he won't know it's me. As I type his number into my phone, I press the call button.

"So, we're not going to get an explanation?" Cara furrows her eyebrows as she reaches over to steal a slice of Octavia's pizza, who slaps her hand away.

When he doesn't pick up, I continue to ring to give him the impression it's important and I will continue ringing until he picks up. Tapping my nails against the table, I straighten my stance when he picks up.

"Hello?" Roman snaps and I can hear a woman's voice in the background telling him to ignore the phone and carry on with a very explicit activity.

Holding back a snicker, I do my best to disguise my voice. "Is this Mr. Roman King?"

"Yeah, who is this?" Roman grumbles, and I can hear him fumbling about on the end of the phone.

A smirk overtakes my face. "Hi, this is Officer Smith. You will be glad to know we found your car and the person who stole it."

Cara giggles, and Octavia shakes her head, muttering something about Roman and I's rivalry. I continue to eat my pasta as I wait for his reply.

"My car? What happened?"

"Yes. Police pulled over your car ten minutes ago. The man who stole it was speeding, a possible joy ride when we pulled him over and we found out the car belonged to you. Anyway, if you could come to the station to retrieve it and file a police report, that would be great," I happily chirp away, disguising my voice as best as I can. So far, he seems to believe me.

"I'll be right there."

He hangs up and I smile to myself as the girls shake their heads, and Octavia raises her eyebrow. "Ok and what happens when he gets to the police station?"

"Roman doesn't drink, so he would have driven his truck back to the hockey house. He'll go outside and see his truck there and know it was a prank." I shrug my shoulders.

"It's evil, conniving and I love it." Cara beams, finishing her pasta. "Anyway, while we wait for that to happen. I have news!"

"So, suggesting we go to a restaurant isn't because you wanted to see our lovely faces?" Octavia jokes and Cara shoves her.

"Do I need to be worried you're crushing on me? I know you swing both ways but..." Cara trails off and we all laugh.

"What's the news?" I ask, leaning my arms on the table as I have finished my meal.

"Every year, the art department chooses so many students to take part in an art exhibition. It's a joint event between Boston University and the Museum of Fine Arts in the city. Usually, it's mostly seniors, to get their work out there, as you have companies, respected art aficionados. They chose a few juniors this year as well and guess who is in there?" Cara points to herself.

"Are you kidding? That's amazing." I round the table to hug her and Octavia joins in.

"It's scary! Do you know how talented the seniors are?" Cara's eyes widen, as if realizing this is a bad idea.

"Do you know how talented you are? They wouldn't have chosen you if they didn't think you were," Octavia voices her opinion. While Octavia goes on a long tangent of how talented Cara is and that she is being stupid, I shake my head at them both. My phone makes a noise and I look down at it on the table, seeing a text message from Roman's number.

Nicely played, Hollywood.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐀 𝐔 𝐓 𝐇 𝐎 𝐑    𝐍 𝐎 𝐓 𝐄

「 I'm loving writing all the pranks and back and forth insults they give each other, It's so fun to write!

Q: What has been your favourite chapter so far?

Also for people asking, my update schedule is Monday and Saturday's.

Don't forget to vote & comment! 」