REBIRTH This time I will be a Witch

Every move we make to get to our seats is followed through by an elbow jab, a stray arm flung at our faces or a string of angry grunts and shoves.

The cherry on top of the rather aggressive cake is the sounds of disapproval coming from my best friend, Eleane, as she struggles to sit down in her plastic seat.

After a few more seconds of shuffling, groaning and muffled curses, she finally exhales in defeat and stops squirming like a fish out of water.

I look from the annoyed ginger to my other best friend, the contrast of Eleane's total discomfort and Ella's serene familiarity almost making me burst out laughing.

Eleane truly is our adorable little hockey virgin.

Ella, however, has spent an insane amount of time squished into our university's ice rink- watching and cheering as her boyfriend gets checked into the boards time and time again.

I guess I could say the same for me, but instead of boyfriend, I watch as my twin brother gets wrecked.

That's definitely more entertaining.

The next few minutes are filled with Ella and I just staring at our grumpy friend- waiting patiently for her to start the whines. That is until she finally does the predictable and opens her mouth to start complaining.

"Can someone please tell me why the hell we're here?" Eleane starts off, rubbing at her nose and pulling down her beanie in frustration.

Ella and I look from each other, to the ice, and then back to our child-like friend.

Ella releases a breathy chuckle, an indication that she'll take this one. "Well, personally, I'm here because my boyfriend is about to skate out of that tunnel right over there." She points over to the tunnel where players from the opposing side are making their way onto the ice.

Eleane pouts in defeat as Ella continues, "Charlotte is here because her brother just so happens to wear a Bisons' jersey that reads 'Ken'."

Ah yes, my moral obligation to cheer on, support and laugh at my idiot brother- on behalf of our Dad- is why one of these seats is always accompanied by my ass.

The sour look on the ginger's face makes me chip in, "And you, our dear friend, are here because you're incapable of being left alone in the apartment for more than twenty minutes..."

Ella laughs at my comment, mostly because it's one hundred percent true.

Eleane, bless her heart, cannot be left alone for any long period of time.

This is for two main reasons: 1) she's like a naughty child, she will find anything and everything to mess with and possibly break, 2) the last time both Ella and I were out for the day, she managed to nearly burn down our entire building, severely piss off our next door neighbor Mrs Anna and somehow get chocolate syrup all over the ceiling in both the bathroom and kitchen.

Don't ask me how- it's still a mystery.

"I hope you choke." Our toddler huffs out, flipping us both off and turning her attention to the screen displaying each players stats.

I hadn't actually looked at the big screen yet, which is out of character for my desperate-to-checkout-hot-hockey-players self.

As I sweep my eyes across the rink, lingering on the opposing sides section, I finally get my chance to ogle at the screen.

I had just missed the other teams' stats- not too disappointing considering it doesn't make much of a difference to me- so I get comfortable, all snuggled up in between Eleane and Ella, and wait for our beloved team to appear.

Up first is Leo Giveson, our infamous goalie and typical party boy. The crowd erupts in cheers as he skates onto the ice all padded and kitted up.

To an outsider, you'd probably assume Leo is some brain-dead asshole who thinks they're God's gift to earth (and women). Thankfully, I know Leo on a somewhat real level and he's a sweetheart. A real weirdo, but he's a goalie- they're always a little... off?

Up next are the defence players. A few sophomores and one freshman skate on and head to the bench before our starters make an appearance.