"Fuck face be careful, you're going to ruin it," I snap at Bray who just haphazardly throws himself into the seat next to me almost crushing my sign from Francesca.

"Sorry dude, don't get all worked up over some paper you bitch."

I visibly flinch at Bray's words and he instantly looks guilty. "Ryder I-"

"It's ok Bray." I pull the sign closer to me protectively. I'm not a bitch for appreciating the sign. I'm not a bitch because I have human emotions and feelings. I'm not a bitch.

Bray ends up sitting in the row across from me with Stan. He spends the majority of the bus ride looking at me trying to decide what words to say. I know Bray didn't mean what he said, he is my best friend, one of the few people I can consistently count on. But his words still sting like a fresh cut.

The bus pulls up to campus but mentally I am still back in Notre Dame, back on the ice seeing Francesca's sign for the first time. Her admission from Wednesday echoed in my head as I looked to the stands after my first goal to see her jumping around waving the sign wildly. I was too overwhelmed watching her to even move. My team celebrated around me while I just stood there with stupid fucking tears running down my face. I can't even tell you the last time I cried, I had basically gone numb over the years, but last night the tears just came pouring out. It actually felt good to feel something so overwhelmingly happy it moved me to tears which is why I wanted to keep the sign. To everyone else it is a sign but to me it is one of my happiest memories.

My phone vibrating, as the bus stops and guys begin to stand and stretch, pulls me from my reminiscing.

Beck: Are you back yet?

Me: Just got to campus, not even off the bus yet.

Francesca: Awesome, we will all be at the arena soon. I got the goods.

Me: I thought we shut down our dildo selling business.

Beck: STOP! I AM WITH PEOPLE! WHAT IS MY ASSIGNED FBI AGENT GOING TO THINK!

I laugh at how dramatic she always is and pick up my stuff to get off the bus.

"Hey Ryder, can you wait for a second," Bray stops me leaving us as the only two still on the bus.

I nod and Bray shifts from foot to foot looking anywhere but me. I don't know what to say so I just stand there awkwardly waiting for him to start.

"You know you're my best friend right? And like I look up to you right? And that you constantly impress me and push me to be better just by being you? I am super grateful to have you as a friend and have nothing but respect for you. I just was stupid and didn't think and I am sorry because I know about them and the shit they put you through and I never want to make you feel like that dude."

Bray is talking a mile a minute basically out of breath as he goes on and on. I don't know what to say so instead I set my stuff down and hug my best friend. It seems to convey everything I can't because Bray immediately shuts up and hugs me back. In all the years of being friends with Bray I think this is the first time we have ever hugged.

"Bray you are one of my best friends, we are good."

"One of them?"

I let go of him and pick up my stuff to finally get off the bus. "Who is my competition? I will fight them Ryder, I will. Is it Stan? That rich bitch."

Bray continues to grumble behind me as I spot Francesca getting out of Tristian's car across the parking lot. "Someone like that," I sigh watching her wave enthusiastically at us.

"If you think I won't hit a girl Ryder I got news for you. Beck get your ass over here! We are fighting to the death for Ryder's friendship!"

Francesca looks confused but still skips over to us anyways with her backpack filled with all the things we agreed last night we would need for a proper game of assassins. "What are we doing?"

"Ignore him," I tell her as I elbow him. "He was dropped as a child."

"So was Sal," she tells me her eyes shining playfully.

I put my arm around her shoulder and lead her to the locker room. I walk to my spot to put my stuff down and she follows me in looking around at everything. She climbs into my cubby and makes herself comfortable in the small space.

"It kind of smells in here."

"No shit butt, it is a locker room."

"Get air fresheners Carson, all that money they spend on the hockey program I think they can afford a can or two."

I reach for her hand ignoring her jab about the smell of the locker room and she takes it, letting me pull her from the cubby and sailing through the air as she launches herself from the bench to the soft carpeted floor. She is giggling to herself as I put my hand on her back and lead her to the media room where we have made a powerpoint to kick off the game. It may seem extra to do but we are talking about two highly competitive groups of people in the middle of a cold Michigan with nothing to do all week.

"Is everyone here," Francesca asks when we walk in as I survey the room doing a quick head count.

"We are good Beck."

"Perfect, let's go over rules first." I sit in the front and flick through the slides while she talks. She has her hands on her hips, looking pretty intimidating for one of the shortest people in the room. I watch her pace back and forth pinning everyone with stern looks as she walks. Her team looks at her with all the respect in the world while mine looks like they can't decide if they're scared or turned on. They will either leave here crying or with boners, honestly maybe both.

"Practices are off limits, team or extra ice time. Showers, bathrooms, and locker rooms are also off limits. You can not strike anywhere that might put someone in danger like the car, crossing the street, while working out. Use your brains, you are all smart most of the time." I smile at her little jab at them.

"Am I understood," she asks, giving time for everyone to give a quick reply.

"Perfect," she nods seeming satisfied with herself. She struts over to me and allows me to take the floor.

"We are going to give each of you a popsicle with a name on it. When you are killed you give your popsicle to whoever killed you and the game continues. When you are killed you send a text to the group chat saying you're dead, don't announce who killed you. Besides that remember the rules, the no kill times, and places. Anyone who breaks a rule will have a punishment decided by the group, so be smart. Also prank war is still on during this time but remember figure skaters have a competition this weekend so things like skates, costumes, and such are off limits. You break that rule and I personally will deal with you, am I understood?"

My entire team looks like they're about to shit themselves at the threat but I am not even remotely kidding. I am overly protective of Francesca and if her team means a lot to her than they mean a lot to me. Pissing me off by messing with her or them will be something my teammates will very much regret.

Francesca walks around and hands out the sticks. "Does anyone have their own name?"

No one answers so we both nod standing together again at the front of the room. "You have one hour to get as far away as you can. Game starts when I send the 'go' text to the group chat. Take your can of silly string as you leave."

"Good luck and godspeed," Francesca adds as everyone jumps from their seats and takes off.

"We are going to regret this aren't we," I laugh as people literally jump over each other to get out of the room and I can hear everyone screaming and sprinting down the hall out of the arena.

"Likely," she laughs as we both grab the last two cans from her backpack.

"Are you excited? Any good plans?"

She looks at her popsicle stick quietly and I bump her shoulder as we walk to the locker room to grab my stuff. "Not really," she confesses quietly.

"Why?" I stop and pull her to a stop with me. My Francesca is always excited and competitive, this is not her.

"I try really hard at stuff like this but I always lose anyways. I played something like this in high school and was the first person out. I just always have bad luck."

She continues to walk on without me and I quickly throw a plan together in my mind to make sure she wins.

"Hey wait, what if we tag team? Form an alliance."

"What if we have each other," she asks but I see her perk up instantly.

"I have Heather, who do you have?"

"Pman." She smiles a little evil smile and a part of me questions if she did that on purpose. Rigged the game so she could take him out. I don't ask but the wink she gives me confirms my suspicions.

"See we don't have each other so it is perfect. We will help each other find our targets, come up with strategies together, and protect each other."

"You'd help me, really Ry? This isn't a trick?"

My heart tightens and I wish I could tell her that I would do anything for her, in this game and any other time. But mushy stuff isn't my strong suit so instead I just tell her, "I swear on the ladies. No tricks."

"I'm in then," she yells, jumping up and hugging me suddenly excited again.

She lets go of me and takes off down the hall jumping and screaming in excitement rambling on and on about how she is going to take out Pman. I have never not been competitive in my life, everything I do I want to win, but not this. I will happily lose so she can win, plus now I have the added excuse of spending every moment of my spring break with Francesca, so I guess even while losing I am still winning.