Seven

“Where’s she sitting?” Mike asked.

All Nicky said was, “No.”

“Oh, come on!  Did you put a note in with the tickets?”

“Uh...”  It honestly had not occurred to Nicky to do that.

Mike scoffed.  “Seriously?  Have you never brought a girl to a game before?”

From across the room, John Carlson nodded wisely like he’d seen the way of the world in his single season.  “You gotta have a note.”

The guys debated what it should say.  At least ninety percent of it made Nicky growl, another eight percent made him blush.

“Hope you’re as hot in real life,” someone suggested.

“I’ve been jerking off to your Facebook photos.”

Nicky did his best to ignore them.  He was already nervous enough about letting them meet Devin, but to have it be the same time he would meet her was insufferable.  If they acted like this they’d chase her off before he had a chance to be super awkward and do it himself.  Brooks took a seat next to him.

“How about just, Can’t wait to meet you?”

The locker room chorused back that it was boring, but they knew it was right.  Nicky thought about it then just to be sure he got it right, asked, “How do I write it?”

____

Devin handed the ticket envelope right from the will call agent to Mel.  She would never get it open with shaking hands.

“Oh boy,” Mel said.  “Do you want to seats or the note?”

“What?!”

Mel wave d a piece of paper in one hand.  Devin snatched at it.  It looked like the tiny sample she’d seen of his handwriting and even better, it was real.  It was something he’d actually held than now she held too.  Almost like a real-life connection.  Mel stood back smirking while a permanent, idiotic grin came to Devin’s face.

Devin,

We meet you at District Chop House at 6:15PM.  Right down the street.  We have back room.

Can’t wait to meet you.

Nicky

“Awwww,” they both said. 

The Verizon Center was packed early; the atmosphere decidedly different from a regular season game.  Mel and Devin stood a few rows back from the ice watching warm-ups.   They hadn’t even thought about staying farther away, but Devin should have been looking out for it.  But by the time she realized, it was the sound on a camera shutter that caught her attention.  All along the glass people were shooting photos.  A few had serious looking equipment and probably came to a lot of games.  Some were younger girls likely here on their dads’ season tickets, and one of the girls in a Carlson t-shirt had her SLR lens pointed right at Devin.

“Don’t,” Mel said, catching it at the same time.

Devin kept her eyes riveted on the ice, though she could see the girl and her friends whispering in peripheral vision.  The girl raised her camera again, facing away from the ice.  She could have been more than seventeen.

“The minute you do something, there’s something to photograph,” Mel warned.  She was well versed in the way of Twitter and they’d even laughed while browsing one of those sites where everyone pretends to know players and their girlfriends and rip everyone to shreds. 

She was right.  So a few people had seen a few profile photos; no big deal.  There was nothing going on between her and Nicky, at least not yet, and Devin reminded herself that Nicky was not Justin Timberlake.  He might be a really big deal to her – and a few other people, like the younger girls who’d gone back to shooting close-ups of Ovi stretching – but was of no importance to most people.

Mel finally turned, once the girls had switched targets.  “So, what do you think?”

Nicky skated by, looping from blue line to goal line in a shooting drill.  His hair was either damp or slicked back, looking darker than normal on top.   Devin knew from all the games she’d been to that he never wore a helmet during the warm-up skate.  Lots of the guys didn’t: Green, Ovi, Semin.

“I have seen him before,” Devin pointed out.  But inside her stomach was performing an Olympic floor routine.

 “You’ve seen him half-naked in bed now too, gonna be bored when that happens in real life?"   Then she went back to more pressing matters.  “Why does Brooks wear a helmet?  Is it in his contract not to be hotter than the rest of the team combined?” Mel scoffed.

“He’s keeping it secret for you.”

“Your Swede better deliver,” she said.

____

Nicky did his best not to look at the faces behind the glass.  The crowd was twice its normal size for warm-ups and he’d probably never see her anyway.  All he’d succeed in doing was crashing into the boards or falling down.  And she was definitely here, watching.

“Computer girlfriend is here, yes?” Ovi asked.  Nicky nodded, leaning down onto his stick in face-off position to test the tape on his skates.  Ovi pushed him over and he landed in a heap on his ass, then skated off laughing.

____

“Ooooh,” Devin laughed.  Everyone laughed.  Nicky got up smiling, clearly embarrassed and Ovi just went back to work.

They didn’t have to go far for their seats.  Nicky had put them about ten rows up alongside the penalty boxes on the side where Washington would shoot twice.  The ordered beers and watched the arena fill in around them.  By game time, it was a sea of red.  The lights went out to start the show and the sound nearly took of the roof off the building.

Six minutes into the game, Mike scored on a pass from Ovi and Brooks.  The impossibly high noise level rose ten percent and Devin exhaled for the first time in an hour.

Thanks, Mike.

____

On the bench, Nicky said, “Thanks Mike!”

The game had a ferocious pace, but the Capitals never wavered.  It felt like they were dominating but it wasn’t till partway through the second that Ovi put another goal in the net.  An insurance goal, though they were still shutting New York out.  Brooks had his second assist of the night and gave Nicky a facepalm as he skated past.

____

As the teams lined up for the face-off to start the third period, Devin bear hugged Mel and squealed.  No one even noticed, but Mel hugged back and joined in.

The Rangers were everywhere, like a caged animal making a desperate, ill-advised bid for freedom.  It didn’t matter how they scored so they took every opportunity and the game became frantic.  Then just past the twelve minute mark, Semin put it out of reach with the Caps’ third goal of the night.

Everyone lost it.  Literally lost it.  Half the guys wanted to jump onto the ice and celebrate now.  Mel and Devin leaped onto each other, bouncing up and down.  The whole place stayed on its feet till the goal was announced.  When the combined sound of twenty thousand people shouting finally abated, the girls dropped into their seats.

“Shit, I’m going to have a heart attack,” Devin said.

____

Nicky didn’t look at the clock.  He sensed New York’s desperation but didn’t want to know how close it was to being over.  He was +1 and had two shots on the night – it had been a decent game, but not great.  Still if they won, no one cared.

The announcer said one minute left to play and Nicky finally put his head down onto his stick, took a deep breath and smiled.  The Verizon crowd was on its feet.  New York finally got a goal at 19:28 but you couldn’t even hear the whistle blow.

That buzzer.  Nicky thought he might faint with relief.  Then he flew over the boards and piled onto his teammates like a huge puppy, taking guys down with him and feeling more land on top.  They had won.  They had gotten through the first round.  They were still in the playoffs.  And baby, it was date night in DC.

____

“What do we do?” Mel asked.  The ice was finally clear, the absence of noise almost unbalancing.  They were climbing up the steps with half an hour to kill.  “Go there and wait?  Arrive fashionably late?  How long will they even take, after winning?  Won’t there be like hours of interviews?  I don’t want to be sitting there like I’m getting stood up or….”

“Jeez!  You’re worse than I am!” Devin said.  She really did feel better – for now.  Twenty minutes on it could be a different story.  Mel grabbed her arm, stopping.

“Devin, you already know how this is going to go.  Tomorrow you’ll buy Rosetta Stone and start wearing blue and yellow.  I, on the other hand,” she made a dramatic gesture as if to incorporate thousands of possibilities, “am living the dream of every girl smart enough to like hockey.  I’m going to a buffet where I know I’ll eat too much and still try three deserts.”

“We don’t even know who’s coming!”

Mel smiled.  “Does it really matter?”

____

Nicky adjusted his collar in the mirror.  He absolutely hated ties and but it was part of the pre- and post-game requirement.  At least he wore his favorite suit: plain black, sharp and sophisticated.  Since he felt anything but.  His pattered tie lay neatly over a bright blue shirt that he mom said made him look handsome.  “Too blond for so much black,” she always said.  He hooked his hair behind both ears.  It was a little too long, but sufficed in place of the playoff beard he had no chance of growing.

“As good as it gets,” he mumbled to himself in Swedish.  Sure Devin had seen him many times, including tonight.  What he looked like would not surprise her.  But everything was different in a game – put on that jersey and you’re sort of a super hero.  Plenty of times, the real life version failed to live up to the image in someone’s head.  Like Nicky’s version of himself, which sometimes fell short.

“Looking good, bro,” Mike said.  His hair was a jagged landscape of perfectly styled peaks – he could put someone’s eye out if they got too close.  Girls loved it though… so Nicky ran a hand through his shaggy locks again and messed them up a little.  Mike clapped him on the shoulder.

“Stop worrying.”

Nicky blushed.

“And stop blushing!  She already likes you.  That’s the hard part.  She’s going to see you in this pimp suit and probably pass out, okay?  Just don’t spill anything and you’ll be fine.  Oh, and remember to speak English.”  Mike gave him a serious look, which broke into a smile.  “You might actually get laid tonight, Nicky.  Go make me proud.”

Nicky swung a punch that hit only air as Mike dodged away.

“Let’s go!” Green shouted to the locker room.  “Nicky’s internet girlfriend waits for no one.”

___

“I feel like I’m going to my arranged marriage.”

They were across the street from the Chop House, having killed time with a beer in another bar.  Devin could have had five but they were only making her more giddy.  She’d been tapping her foot so hard someone asked her to stop.  Mel pulled her in between two parking meters on the sidewalk, out of the flow of people walking.  The Saturday evening Chinatown streets were filling up.

“This is supposed to be fun, remember?” Mel asked.  “And he already likes you.” 

Devin said, “I don’t want to be disappointing in real life.”

Mel looked her up and down.  They’d changed in the bathroom – Devin swapping out her #19 t-shirt for a dressy silk tank top pattered like a peacock feather in rich jewel tones.  Her dark hair was long over her shoulders and her earring tinkled when she moved.  Mel wore a black v-neck sweater that sent every gaze in the room down her cleavage and stood tall in Devin’s borrowed boots. 

“Honey, you look great.  If I didn’t plan on taking every other man in that room, you’d never make it out alive.”  That made Devin laugh.  Mel took her hand, wove between cars and waited for a break in traffic.  “You’re lucky I’m such a good friend.”

____

“Hello gentlemen.  Congratulations on tonight.  Right this way, please.”  The maitre’d lead the three tall, strapping and suited men through the restaurant.  Everyone else would follow.  The Capitals were favorite customers at the Chop House and it had been no problem to reserve the room with the understanding it would only be used if they won.

Nicky had given then Devin’s name in case she arrived first, but the room was set for twelve and all the seats were empty.  His heart sank, partially in relief.  Deep in his pockets his hands nervously clenched and released.  Brooks slapped him on the back without a word.  Before they were even seated they were ordering drinks.

____

“Six twenty, perfect,” Mel said, opening the door. 

“Hello ladies, may I help you?”

Devin realized she didn’t know exactly what to say.  “We’re uh… with the Backstrom party?”

He extended an arm for them to follow him.  “Excellent.  One of you must be Devin.  A pleasure to have you with us this evening.”

There was a door marked “Private Dining” at the back.  It was large and made of knotted wood, painted dark.  Not just some boring old door that could be a closet, Devin thought this entrance looked fitting for something stately.  Of course, it was DC.  The maitre’d reached out to turn the knob.

“Oh God,” Devin whispered one last time.  Mel gripped her hand and squeezed.

____

“Gentlemen, your guests,” the maitre’d said, stepping aside.  The room was paneled like the door, but a chandelier poured smooth crystal light over a long table set for twelve.  Only three chairs were occupied, halfway down.  Without even trying, Devin’s brain identified two brunettes and blond.  She instantly locked eyes with Nicky.

He stood, never looking away.  His mouth formed a tiny little O of surprise and instantly Devin was relieved – he was at least as nervous as she was.  If that were possible.

“Devin!”

Mike Green stood, blocking the sight line between her and Nicky and breaking the little spell.  He moved toward her, arms out and she thought, Thank God someone knows what to do.

And apparently they were all going to hug.  She filed that away with the goal he’d scored today as things to thank Mike for someday, after she’d gotten him back for the photo.  He threw himself around her and lifted her right off the floor.  She kicked her feet for good measure.

“Congratulations!”

Mike put her down and moved aside like a chess piece, revealing her true aim.  Nicky had come around behind him.  Nicky was bigger than Devin imagined – taller, thicker, broader.  A little boy’s face on a man’s body.  The perfectly tailored suit he wore leaned toward the grown up side.

“Hi,” she said quietly, struck more by his presence the closer he got.  Devin was no waif but she felt if Nicky wrapped her in his arms she could disappear happily forever.  Since Mike had made it clear they were hugging, that’s right where she was headed.

___

Nicky had to command his body to stand, his feet to move.  He was sure the stupid look on his face gave everything away.  Devin was half-smiling, looking way les nervous about meeting him.  Maybe he was the only one in this fragile little boat.  Mike, ever confident, hugged her hugely to break the tension and give Nicky a moment’s reprieve.  Wiping damp palms flat down his jacket, Nick moved around the table and stopped behind his friend.

She told Mike, “Congratulations!”  It was the first time Nicky ever heard her voice.

Then Mike figured his work was done and freed Devin, letting Nicky look at her up close.  She was far more beautiful than in her photos.  Russet highlights in her hair caught the light where they touched the shoulders of her soft-looking shirt.  Her eyes were dark but not brown; green or hazel, he couldn’t tell.  She was taller than he expected, and if he let his gaze travel down her body he knew he would have lost it.  Instead he gulped loudly, adams’ apple bobbing, and made sure his tongue still worked in his mouth.

“Hi,” he replied.  His elbows wouldn’t bend, his shoulders wouldn’t respond.  But he opened his arms to her anyway, stiff with nerves and somewhat like a seal ready to clap.  All at once she flashed that big, genuine smile and Nicky felt his knees buckle.  Just before he might have fainted, she stepped in and slowly reached around his neck.  He tentatively closed his arms around her back.  It was like filling a tire – a tiny, continuous increase in pressure until it’s all the way there.  A few seconds later, no space was left between them.

Nicky closed his eyes.  It was all he could do not to bury his face in her hair and breathe deeply from her scent.  Devin folded into his chest like a pillow he could lean on for sleep and count on for good dreams.

____

Devin sighed.  After so much build up, here he was and better than advertised.  His broad shoulders rounded as they closed her in.  If there was a safer place on Earth she’d yet to find it.  He smelled like soap and boy’s deodorant, like someone who cleaned up nicely.  His hands rested gently on the small of her back and she felt the tension in his body – he was more nervous than she was.

Thank God, she thought.  Just another second of this before I…

“Bored now!” Mike finally said. 

They each pulled back a little but didn’t let go.  Instead Devin put her forehead against Nicky’s chest and laughed, shaking gently in his arms.  It made Nicky laugh too.  The moment of tension was broken yet again, courtesy of Mike, who came up and thumped them each on the back.  Devin turned her head, still in Nicky’s embrace.

“Sorry,” Mike smiled, “was that awkward?”

____

Six

I've got a nice long flight in the morning to write the next few chapters of this... coming soon.

___

“Good morning, Social Network.”  Brian held out a large Dunkin’ Donuts cup and Devin took it gratefully.  She’d been at her desk ten minutes and was waiting for someone to say something.

“Have you looked at Tumblr?”

“No.  I’m having a media blackout,” Devin said between sips.

“Well you’re sort of famous.”

Brian climbed over her to the computer and logged himself in.  He scrolled down a dash that it looked remarkably like hers – full of hockey – just without the macros and shirtless player photos.

“How do you even know Tumblr? I thought it was for sixteen year old girls.”

“I have a sixteen year old sister.  How do you know it?”

Devin smiled at the truth.  “Inside I’m a sixteen year old girl.”

The photo of Nicky showed up and Brian moused over it.  There were 562 notes.  Almost all were notifications that the photo had been reblogged by someone, but a few were replies.  The first half wanted to know who Devin was.  The second half were at least her full name and most were the link to her Facebook.

“I turned my security settings up all the way,” she said hopefully.

“Not soon enough.”  Brian clicked on a few of the people who had posted her link.  Before everything, just Devin’s profile photos had been visible to anyone that searched.  Now she saw them posted across Tumblr blogs.

Backstrom’s girlfriend was the caption on more than a few.  None of them were photos she’s posted on Nicky’s wall, so at least she knew his page was still as private as ever.  Brian clicked on a photo of Devin dressed like Robin Hood on Halloween – all short skirt and high boots and low-cut shirt.  

“Now that looks like an NHL WAG.”

“Oh my God.”  She pushed on his hand, closing the window.
____

“Did you ask her?” Mike called first thing in the morning – well, his morning.  It was after eleven.

“She is coming tomorrow.  I ask her to come out after if we win.  She bring her roommate.”

“And you’ll bring me,” Mike said proudly.  “She accepted my friend request.”

It was Nick’s turn to smile.  “I see what she write.  Maybe you don’t want to come tomorrow.”  In the background, a spoon clattered against a coffee cup.

“And miss you acting like Napoleon Dynamite?  Hell no.”

Nicky tossed the phone away.  They had a team meeting in two hours, but no skate because of tomorrow’s afternoon game.  He really just wanted to stay home and rest, ice his hand and obsess over what to wear and do and say tomorrow.  Assuming they won.

Maybe that’s the trick – plan on winning and you do.  They had to.

Instead Nicky uploaded the photos from Cafeteria and shared the album on Devin’s wall.  He even tagged the guys who were on Facebook – let them find Devin, what difference did it make now?  And if they showed up tomorrow acting like Nicky had made a big deal about her, then maybe he would be a big deal to her.  At least all the guys would know that she was there for him, that he’d gotten to her first.

Well technically she messaged Mike.  But Nick just hoped she’d forgotten about that part.
____

Devin worked her way through the happy hour crowd up to the bar, where Mel was waving money over her head trying to get service.  They were going out early Friday so they could be well rested for Saturday’s afternoon game.  Brian had grumbled about having to watch the game on TV and gone home pouting.  

“So… any love notes from your boyfriend today?”

“Yes, actually.  He posted some pictures of the team having lunch at the place I recommended.”

“The whole team?”

“About half.”

“The hot half?” Mel pestered.

Devin smiled.  “You’ll need to be more specific.”

“The Brooks Laich half?”

She titled her head.  “Never heard of him.”

The bartender finally arrived, so Mel settled for elbowing Devin hard in the side.  She looked around the bar, wondering how many of these people were avid Caps fans.  How many would care if she was in fact dating Nick Backstrom.  She wondered if any might have seen the photo.

“The world’s not that small,” Mel said, passing back a beer.  “But tomorrow at the game might be different.”

“My boss saw the picture.  Why the hell is she checking my Facebook, by the way?  I mean, she’s cool but what the fuck?”

“Employers check Facebook all the time, make sure you’re not stripping on the weekends.”

“I think she’s just jealous that she’s got twelve kids, a minivan and the hots for Ovechkin.”

Mel just shrugged.  “You never know who’s looking till there’s something for them to see.”
____

The team meeting was really just a video session about what they’d done in their wins vs. their one loss.  There was little need for an inspiring pep talk on an off-day, and no team should need one in the playoffs.  At least not with a two game lead and home ice advantage.  Nicky was grateful when it ended so he could get all his gear ready for tomorrow.

Afternoon games messed with their schedule.  There was no time for a nap, they had to eat at the right hour and get to the rink early.  He was careful to have everything ready so nothing would slow him down before game time.

“Your computer girlfriend coming tomorrow,” Ovi said instead of asking.

“Not my girlfriend.”

“Winning is good for getting girls, Nicky.”

Apparently word of Devin had spread, and Nicky knew he had Mike to thank for that.  Stupid defenseman could never keep his mouth shut.  A couple of guys gave him a hard time.  Carlson asked if she knew all the DC restaurants too.  When they were done razzing him, Brooks came over carrying a smelly pair of gloves.

“She mad about the picture?”

“No, but people see it before she take it down.  I don’t know if they say anything to her.  I still think is embarrassing but she said it was a great picture.”

Brooks smiled.  “You know what that means?”

Nicky shook his head.  

“She wants to see you naked.”
____

Devin swirling the last of her beer in the bottom of the bottle.  Her excitement for tomorrow was building but her nerves were rising with it.  Everything would depend on the score.  But everything else would depend on Nicky.

I have to be cool, she told herself again.  Even without meeting him, Devin felt she had a good idea of Nicky’s personality, at least the first impression.  He was going to be shy and probably apologetic about the picture.  He’d be taking shit from his friends about her.  And the last thing she wanted to be was a source of embarrassment.

“What do I wear tomorrow?”

Mel made a face.  “Your Backstrom shirt, obviously.  Then something under to go out.  Or stick a shirt in your purse.  Those tight jeans of yours and the boots with the buckles on the… wait, I want to wear those.”

“They’re mine!”

“But Nick already knows what you look like.  He already asked you out!  I need all hands on deck if I’m going to snag myself a Canadian.  Don’t think I’m going in there like some dopey sidekick.”  Mel shook her long hair back off her shoulders and gave a look that sounded like three snaps around the world.

“Good Lord I’m in trouble now,” Devin laughed.

Before long they went home.  Devin felt like she should lay out clothes, wash her hair and get date-ready right away.  But she had all day tomorrow.  After polishing her toe nails bright pink, she gave in and logged into Facebook.  Almost instantly the little window popped up at bottom right.  

Hi, Nicky said.

I’m so excited for tomorrow! she replied.

Me too.  Winning at home is best.

I saw the pictures from Cafeteria.  They made me hungry for macaroni and cheese.

Is it ok I tag the other guys? I know Mike already friend you.

Yes.  Did they give you a hard time about the picture?

Only a little.  We always play jokes, sorry it was a joke on you too.

I told Mike I would get him back.  I’ll have to think of something.

I will help you.

What time do you go to Verizon tomorrow?

Noon.  We eat lunch there before game.

Well get a lot of sleep and I will actually see you tomorrow!
____

Nicky had been thinking about how to say goodnight.  It would be the last thing he’d say before playing in the big game and then actually meeting her.  Devin had become such a large figure in his mind he had no idea what to say in person, but he wanted to finish strong on the computer.  It was best to plan for the inevitable – he’d be a bumbling idiot tomorrow, completely distracted by the thought of kissing her.  It might help if she had some idea what she was getting into.

I think you will be good luck for us to win.

I’ll be one of the three thousand people in #19 shirts.  But I’ll try to cheer extra loud.

You will be the most pretty.  And after I am excited to meet you.

Me too, Nicky.  Good luck.  See you after you win.

Bye Devin.
____

Devin held it together for a whole second.  Then she squealed, flopped onto her back and kicked her feet into the bed at high speed.  

Nicklas Backstrom thinks I’m pretty!  I have an honest-to-God date with Nicklas Backstrom.  Well kind of sort of.  Mostly.  I have at least half a date with Nicklas Backstrom.

She carried the computer right into Mel’s room and threw herself onto the bed. 
“Look at this!”

Mel gave a deadpan stare like Devin was incurably dumb for thinking anything else.  But seeing it in writing made her realize this might actually be happening sometime this century.  She looked at Devin and knew her friend was about to levitate off the floor with excitement.

“He loves you,” Mel said.  Devin squealed again.  “And I’m wearing those boots.”
____

Five

Two chapters in one day... I applaud myself.

___

At the end of regulation play, Nicky had never been so relieved.  The Rangers had gotten three goals in the second, but the Caps managed to get them all back.  Mojo had two himself and they battled right till the end, desperate to get fifteen minutes rest before going back out there.  

Distracted by his daydreaming and photos, Nicky had failed to realize how badly he wanted to clinch the series in game five.  Sure, hockey smarts say to dispose of your opponents as quickly as possible.  Maybe they’d even get an off day, which his broken finger could really use.  But mostly he wanted Devin there for it, he wanted to be kind of a hero even if he didn’t actually score the game winning goal.

Speaking of which, how many fucking shots can I take? he thought.  So far tonight he’d had three on goal and more than that blocked in front on Lundqvist.  He might not be on the sheet but he hadn’t been invisible on the ice.

Playoff overtime used to be easier, before the NHL went to shootouts in the regular season.  Players were mentally conditioned that any night could bring endless extra hockey.  But now they were used to five minute four-on-fours over really before they began.  The prospect of another period was daunting because they’d already left it all on the ice.

____

“I’m going to die,” Devin announced.  The entire bar seemed to agree.  Alcohol consumption had slowed and food was finished – everyone just held their breath.  Even the waitstaff were standing between tables with trays in hand, watching TV.

The buzzer ended the first overtime period and instantly the place sprang to life.

“I need more beer,” Brian said, ordering another round for everyone.

Nicky had been playing well, and Devin felt so, so sure he was going to get one.  But as long as they won she didn’t care.  Her desire for game five to end the series had reached Defcon One.  She wanted to see them advance and she wanted to meet Nicky.

“Should I ask him if he wants to meet?” she said, apropos of nothing.

“Same as asking him out,” Brian answered, shaking his head.

“It’s not.  He already asked you out,” Mel insisted.

Brian again.  “But Ever been on a date where someone stays outside the window all night and never talks to you?”

“Brian!” Mel said.

“Sorry, it’s true.  If you want to ask him out, do it.  Sounds like maybe he needs the help.  But these guys are all weird about their habits and especially in playoffs… I’m just saying.  I don’t want to have to blame you if they blow it.”

He was right.  Devin knew she would have to wait until Nicky felt comfortable.  He’d contacted her first, after all, and sent her the first picture.  And invited her to the game.  He was definitely going to do something soon.  Right?

“Of course, he’ll probably die when he sees that Facebook picture and delete his account.  You’ll have to bring a sign to the game if you want to talk to him.”

Devin groaned.  She’d been thinking about the photo all night – she’d probably think about it for the rest of time.  Something like that should be private and intimate and… shared only with her.  If she ever met Mike Green she’d give him a piece of her mind.  But hopefully by then she’d have witnessed the real life version of what he’d sent.

“I approve your friend request!” Mel held an imaginary sign over her had.

“Relationship status: Backstrom.”

“Devin Mills is now single, with a little broken heart.”

“Oh you assholes are hilarious,” Devin said.

____

“Fucking Swedes!” Ovi shouted.  They barreled into the locker room after a full twenty minutes of sudden death shutout.  Lundqvist and Neuvy were both putting on a show as the teams between them slowly ran out of gas.

“Hey,” Mojo shouted back.

“Then you score fucking goal and send us home!”

They dropped onto the benches, soaked and spent.  Gatorades, water, Power Bars all appeared.  It was looking to be a very long night.  Nicky had one shot in that frame and his busted finger ached like crazy.  The trainer gave him a knowing look when he asked for Advil and gave him something stronger.  Nothing more was said.

Coach gave them a pep talk and a few pointers, but all they really needed was rest.  And for King Henrik’s bangs to fall in his eyes for just a second out there.  After what seemed like no time at all, they were headed back onto the ice.  Mike stood in the doorway, slapping guys on the ass.  

“You’re gonna get one,” he said as Nicky passed.  The called after him, “Girls love goals!”

____

“OhymGodIthoughtthatwasit,” Mel squealed.  Her noise was almost lost in the din of the bar.  On a rush, Nicky had just come down the middle.  Mojo was on the wing, two goals on the night and everyone watching him.  He saucered it to the middle where Nicky slipped it under Lundqvist… but not quite all the way under.  His fellow Swede went down heavily and the puck was trapped beneath him.

Brian swore.  Devin just closed her eyes and said a little prayer.

It was answered just over twelve minutes into the second overtime period.  The Rangers defense farted, Jason Chimera got behind the goalie himself right in the crease and put one in the net.  Every bar in a three mile radius went crazy along with the players on TV.  Madison Square Garden started on in disbelief.

“Fucking right!” Brian yelled.

____

“Fucking right!” Ovi screamed, thumping everyone on the back.  They were half out of their gear, throwing stuff around and fired up.  

“Pack it up and let’s get the fuck out of here!” Boudreau called above the racket.

They were in the air by midnight.  Flying charter was fantastic for many reasons, not the least of which was you could use your cell phone.  The technology didn’t actually mess with flight instruments, it just might someday advance to that point and the airlines couldn’t make new planes fast enough.  So the rule stood, but only for commercial airlines.

Fatigue had quickly overcome victory and most of the guys were reclined and passed out.  It was barely an hour flight to Washington.  Nicky figured he could sleep in tomorrow, and so finally had a moment to look at his phone.

Immediately he knew something had happened: there were thirty friend requests waiting.  He didn’t recognize any of the names.  The notifications button said eleven, all “so-and-so commented on your photo.”  But there was no photo, his profile was the same as it had been this morning.  He clicked it a few times but nothing showed.  On the message bubble, there was one notification.

Hey Nicky,

I think your friends hacked your Facebook – they posted a picture of you sleeping on my wall.  I took it down, but a bunch of people had already seen it.  It’s here (link), no one else can see it unless they saved it before.  Sorry!  

Devin

PS: It’s a great picture. ;)

He opened the link and his heart sank.  Only one person could have done that.  Nicky grabbed the glass of water he’d been drinking, held it up and poured it right on the sleeping head of Mike in the seat next to him.  Mike woke with a start, twisting in surprise; Nicky just unbuckled and walked to the bathroom.

It was exactly the kind of thing they guys all did to each other all the time.  And exactly the reason Nicky hadn’t told anyone about Devin.  But he clearly hadn’t been secretive enough.  Not only did they know about her, but they probably knew he’d met her online.  Mike wasn’t as dumb as he seemed; he’d figure out that’s why the computer had been out so much this trip.  And the photos.  Ugh, the lunches too.  And the looking for presents.

Fuck.

Nicky saw himself in the mirror.  He even looked embarrassed.

Back at the seat, Mike was wiping his neck with a cloth napkin.  A couple of the guys were awake.  Nick sat without saying anything, reclined his seat and closed his eyes.  They could talk about this later.

____

Devin lay in bed.  Should I send him a message?  Nicky hadn’t replied about the photo, she wasn’t sure he’d seen it.  Was he mad?  Mad at her?  Would he stop talking to her altogether now?  She doubted that – it wasn’t her fault.  But she did feel bad for being the reason he’d been pranked.  

If I message him now, it’ll seem like I’m digging for those tickets.  Which I would.  But I’ll wait.

____

“Dude, I’m sorry!  I thought it was funny!” Mike said, heading toward their cars.  Nicky had been silent for the rest of the flight.  Now he stopped halfway across the parking lot where streetlights reflected off puddles on the pavement.

“Is funny you make fun of me.  No problem, Mike.  But for her people see that picture and think I send it.  Everyone she know can see that picture.  What if her boss see, or her mother?”

Mike shrugged.  He hadn’t really thought of that to be honest.  There weren’t many twenty-something girls out there who were all that innocent, and the picture had not been dirty.  But maybe it was a little too private to be plastered all over Facebook.  And he hadn’t really thought about who might see it on Devin’s side.

“Now what she tell them?”

“She’ll tell them you like her.  Because you like her.”

“I don’t know her.”  Flustered and annoyed, Nicky said it without thinking.  

“WHAT?” Mike almost yelled.

Fuck.  The only way to explain why he was mad was to tell what he wanted to keep secret.  And now he’d gone and told it anyway.  He kicked his foot against the asphalt and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I don’t know her.  I meet her on Facebook.  She not believe I am me so I send her picture.”  It sounded pathetic out loud, even hilarious.  And tragic.  I met a girl online, I’ve never even seen her, and I’m completely infatuated with her.  Right.

Mike had two fingertips pressed to the center of his forehead like Nick’s story was giving him concussion symptoms all over again.  His eyes were squeezed shut.  “You don’t know her.”

Nicky shook his head.

“And I sent her a picture of you in bed.”  More nodding.  Mike laughed sharply.  “Dude.  I’m sorry.  I thought this is some girl you’re seeing, hiding her from us, and I’m calling you out on it.  Have you asked her out?”

Nick paused.  If they knew Devin was at game five they’d want to meet her.  They’d be relentless.  He’d have to see her for the first time surrounded by twenty juvenile perverts he could not control.  On top of that he’d be his usual nervous, bumbling self, thinking about kissing her the whole time.  It would never work.  He’d miss the only chance he was going to get.

“No.”

“Then I’m inviting her to game five.”

“No!  I change my password because you are asshole.”

Mike gave him a raised eyebrow.  “I’ll friend her myself.  I saw those pictures, she’s got a #52 shirt.”

Fucking hell.  Nicky had forgotten that any of the guys could easily communicate with Devin directly.

“Okay, I invite her.”

“No you won’t.”  Mike was already tapping on his phone.

“I already invite her.  She say yes, her and roommate.”

Mike held up the screen for Nicky to see.  It was the little gray box saying his friend request to Devin Mills had been sent.

“You have tonight to ask her out for after game five.  Or tomorrow I’m doing it for you.”

Mike wheeled away before Nicky could say anything.  He stormed to his car and shut himself inside the silence.  Mike was not joking around – he’d ask Devin out.  He might do it tonight.  Hell, he might ask her for a date for himself.  Devin was probably wondering what the hell was taking so long anyway.  If she wanted to go out with him.  

She does, right?  Nicky was pretty sure Devin was flirting with him but between the internet and the language barrier it was tough to tell.  But if they won in game five, they’d be heroes.  There would be no better time and he might not get another chance.

The silliest part of the whole situation was how badly Nicky did actually want to meet her.  He’d had a hundred fake conversations with her in his head, held her hand and kissed her goodnight.  Frankly it was creepy how much he thought about her.  Maybe Mike’s childishness was a blessing in disguise.

He’s still an asshole, Nicky thought.

____

An hour of not sleeping later, Devin gave up.  As soon as she hauled the computer into her lap and opened the screen.

She instantly regretted it.  Seventeen friend friend requests were waiting... why did people friend strangers?  Who accepted this kind of stuff?  

Why didn’t I think of this before?

Of course anyone who could track the photo back to her Facebook would be rooting around in her profile.  Her security settings were pretty high - only friends and pages she liked could see all her photos.  But there were a few things accessible to anyone and they’d probably already been swiped.  Devin went to the Account button and changed her settings so that only people whose requests she accepted could see anything more than her name.

If I fucking see myself on Tumblr...

A few of the people who tried to Friend her had icon photos in Caps jerseys or swag - Devin ignored each request one by one.  But the seventeenth one was not a girl.

Mike Green.

“Oh I’ll friend you alright,” she said, clicking accept.

And there it was, Mike Green’s Facebook.  He was not worried about photos ending up online, and because of that Devin had already seen a lot of the posted pictures.  There were some updates and posts, but she was already clicking to type her own.

Nice win.  All those extra intermissions for me to plot my revenge.

She smiled ruefully as she watched the post appear on his wall.  As if she knew what she’d do.  The only red alert left on the page was a single message in her inbox.  From Nicky.  And she was not longer annoyed.

Hi Devin,

Sorry the guys post that.  They think always they are so funny.  I have other picture to send from very good lunch at Cafeteria.  I hope you like game tonight.  Almost I get your goal in overtime!  We are home so late but is nice to sleep at home instead of hotel.

For Saturday, I give your tickets at box office.  I find good seats!  Game start at 3.  If we win, after game will you like to come out with me?  If you want I bring some of the guys and Mel come too.  They like to say sorry for today when they are stupid.

I think we win so I can meet you.

Nicky

Devin rolled over, face down and dead.
_