Michelle sat on her bed, her Organic Chemistry homework on her lap and “Every Time We Touch” blaring from the speakers by the window. She sang along to her Beloved Colby who gazed at her from the poster on the wall. Her dorm room was a shrine to the Pens and the multiple sporting activities she had participated in. Her swimming and soccer trophies sat on top of her dresser and her walls were so plastered with Sid, Geno, and Flower that one could hardly tell what color they were.
    Her cell phone began to ring and she reached to pick it up.  “Hello?”
    “Michelle! It’s just me,” her mother responded.
    “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
    “I was just calling to see how you were and to tell you something.”
    “Something?”
    “Yes. We’ve decided to take in a foreign visitor, sweet thing, and I didn’t want you to freak out when you got home. Don’t be surprised.”
    “Okay,” sighed Michelle, thinking it was probably her “bad Russian” cousin. She picked up her pen, twisting it around her fingers.
    “You’re still planning on coming home for your birthday, right?”
    “Why wouldn’t I be?”
    “I just wanted to make sure.”
    “I’m coming home next week, okay? So I have a little time to prepare.
    “Of course. I’ll get your room ready.
    “Okay Mom. You know, I’ve got tons of homework to do, so I’ve got to get going.
    “Alright. Call if you need anything.”
    “I know. Bye.”
    “Bye.”
    Michelle hung up, setting the phone down and looking back at her homework. “Ew.”

    Kristopher sat down for breakfast. Anne was frying sausages and, as always, going out of her way to please him. She set the plate in front of him with a smile. “Eat up,” she said. He looked at the massive pile of food, wondering how his stomach would ever keep it down.
    He put his fork into the pile, trying to look grateful. “These are my daughter’s favorite,” Anne said, pointing at the chocolate chip pancakes.
    “How old is she?” he asked.
    “Nineteen now, twenty in July.”
    “She’s at school?”
    “Yes,” Anne said, grinning. “At CMU even.”
    Kris didn’t know how to respond. “CMU?”
    “Carnegie Mellon University. Very nice school. Competitive.”
    “Oh. Does she like hockey?”
    “She’s the biggest fan. She adores it. Won’t miss watching a game for anything. She used to have a huge crush on Sidney Crosby. Her friends even had a story about him and her.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “No, not at all. I just found out, too. It explains a lot. Don’t worry,” she said, at the look on his face, “Her love of hockey isn’t dependant on Crosby. She played for 12 years.”
    “Oh.” Kris had been worried that she was a shallow hockey lover who only watched after Sid came into play.
    “She’s a fun person. I’m sure you’ll like her.”
    “I hope so. She’s not a bandwagon fan?”
    “Of course not! Not at all!”
    “Good.”
    “She’s a very complicated person. You get used to it. She also has no life.”
    “That’s not very nice.”
    “But it’s true.”
    “I’m sure it’s not.”
    “Wait until you meet her. Then we’ll see.”

    “Mom! I’m home! It’s me!” Michelle slammed the door behind her, dumping her bags.
    “Michelle!” Her mother walked in. “Hey!” She hugged Michelle.
    “I’ve missed you guys!”
    “So, how’s my college sophomore?”
    “Good. Eh, could you help me get my stuff to my room.”
    “Sure.” The two of them lugged the bags upstairs into Michelle’s room. It was just as she had left it.
    “Thanks Mom.”
    “You’re welcome. I’m going to go start dinner.”
    Michelle breathed in deeply, making sure her brother hadn’t stolen anything without her noticing. He hadn’t, thank goodness, and she wandered into the spare room she had officially deemed hers. The stench of hockey equipment hit her (it was a smell she knew too well) and clothes were strewn everywhere. Articles about the Penguins were taped to the walls and she could see a figure under a thin sheet on the bed. She took a few tentative steps forward and realized it was defiantly a male figure.
    Her jaw dropped at the sight and she examined his face. He was young, only a few years older than her at most. She accidentally bumped him and he sat up with a start. She turned bright red as he looked up at her. His brown curls were mussed and his eyes were bleary with sleep.
    “I’m so sorry,” she said, “I didn’t know. I really didn’t mean to intrude.”
    He stood, tossing the sheet off and revealing (dare she think about it?) a sexy bare chest. “It’s fine.” He grabbed a t-shirt of the bed and pulled it on. “I’m Kristopher Devörak. Kris if you like.”
    “Michelle.”
    “Anne’s daughter?”
    “Yep, that’s me.” She gave a nervous laugh. She glanced him over, taking in the broad shoulders, the Czechoslovakian accent, startling hazel eyes, a strong build and a thin scar that ran under his right eye. He noticed and smirked a little.
    “I forgot we had someone staying with us,” said Michelle, feeling stupider by the moment. If only she could catch him looking at her like that, just to get back at him. At some point in time he would have to; she did have some long sexy legs that no hockey player, including Colby Armstrong, could resist eyeing.
    He was scrumptious, very, and nothing attracted her more than an adorable hockey player. She then wondered why her mother didn’t tell her. I mean, here was a sexy hockey player living in her house. She realized he was watching her with an amused look. “Well,” she said, “Nice to meet you. I’ve got to go do… homework.”
    “I thought you were done with school for the summer.”
    “I mean, oh, never mind.” She turned and left, ready to rat her mom out about not telling who the “foreign visitor” was.

    “Mom! You didn’t tell me a hot hockey player was coming to stay with us!” Michelle’s voice was shrill.
    “Calm down. I thought it would be a nice surprise.”
    “Oh, yeah, that’s one big surprise! I mean, I walk into his room and make a fool of myself. He was half naked, too! That’s embarrassing, Mom”
    Kristopher smiled. He wasn’t really eavesdropping, he was just, as they said, in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was in the breakfast nook and they happened to start talking in the living room. They were silent for a moment.
    “I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’s very forgiving,” Anne said.
    “Oh, yeah, and it’s all great even though I made a fool of myself in front of the sexiest thing since James Bond.”
    “Michelle…”
    “It’s absolutely humiliating.”
    “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
    “Mom! You don’t understand.” He heard Michelle’s footsteps on the steps and waited for Anne to follow before he retreated to him room.

    Michelle picked up her cell phone and called Miriya, switching on speaker phone. When Miriya answered Michelle began to tell her about Kris. “So, I come home and who do I find in the spare bedroom? A shirtless hockey player whose goal in life is to be on the Pens.”
    “Didn’t you know? He’s your billet.”
    “No! Nobody tells me these things.”
    “Your mom told me. I ran into her while I was shopping.”
    Michelle sighed. “Wait a second. I’m going to get BreiAnne on too.” She was so riled that she related the entire story over again.
    “Oh Kris!” Michelle practically yelled, “your sexy self is driving me crazy!”
    A knock at the door made her jump. Kris poked his head in. “Did you want me?”
    “No,” said Michelle hurriedly. “I was talking about Kris Letang.”
    “Liar,” said Miriya.
    “Miriya,” muttered Michelle, “you’re on freaking speaker phone and Kris is in the room.”
    “Oops. How was I supposed to know?”
    “So, since we’ve already embarrassed you enough, tell me about him,” said BreiAnne.
    “You guys!” said Michelle.
    “Don’t worry,” said Kris, “I’ve got this covered.”
    “I’m leaving,” said Michelle, walking out of the room.
    Kris smiled. “Alright, then. About me… I’m tall, about six three, hockey build, long muscular legs, gorgeous hazel eyes, soft chestnut curls, strong shoulders and chest.”
    “Someone’s arrogant,” said BreiAnne.
    “No,” said Kris, “Those are just things Michelle has said about me.”
    Miriya started to laugh. “Aw, Michelle,” she said, unable to stop laughing.
 “Oh.” Soon BreiAnne began to laugh as well and Kris found that he was unable to get any sense out of the two girls for a few minutes. Michelle opened the door.
    “What are you guys howling about?” she said, cross.
    “Go away,” said Miriya, “We’re having a private conversation.”
    Michelle reluctantly did so. “What was so funny?” asked Kris.
    “Nothing,” said BreiAnne.
    Kris looked puzzled but shook his head. “Now you know about me, how about you?” Neither said anything for a moment.
    “I exist,” said BreiAnne.
    “And I like hockey,” said Miriya.
    “And she’s married to Jordan Staal.”
    “Not really. But I’d like to be.”
    “Jordan would kill for you. Anyway, it’s always you and Jordan in the stories we’ve written.”
    “He’s definitely mine forever.”
    “Erm,” said Kristopher.
    “Sorry,” said BreiAnne, “We’re a little odd. Just a little.”
    “So, Kris, what do you think of Michelle?” said Miriya, abruptly changing the topic.
    “Um, she’s okay. I guess.”
“If she seems conceited, don’t be put off. It’s al just a joke,” said Miriya.
    “She gets that way,” said BreiAnne.
    “Don’t let it get on your nerves. Another tip, she’s a hopeless romantic and loves candlelit dinners, girly songs and beach love scenes, so you can always use it to your advantage.”
    “She’s fun,” said BreiAnne. “So go for it. As Nike would say, just do it.”
    “What?” asked Kris.
    “You’ll understand eventually.”