Full Strength

Nine-Logan🏒

        On Saturday night, Lillian suggested watching the Dragons game.

        She went all out, making salsa and queso to go with the massive bag of corn chips she'd picked up at the store. She even convinced to me to throw on my jersey (which was quite the statement with my basketball shorts) to "support the guys."

        "I don't see how it's fair that I have to support the guys while you don't even own any Dragons' gear. Which is ridiculous, since you've lived here for...how long?"

        "Three years."

        "So three years, and it never occurred to you to get something Dragons related?" I asked, appalled.

        Lillian shrugged, although she looked guilty. "Nope."

        I sighed, dramatically pointing to my bedroom. "Go put on my away jersey. I can't sit next to you while you're just in a t-shirt."

        She laughed, then quickly paled. "Oh, you're serious?" she squeaked. "No, I couldn't! That's your jersey; you'll need that."

        "You need it more right now," I argued.

        She was shaking her head quickly, her dark hair swinging in front of her face. "No, what if I spill on it? Or tear it? Or-"

        "Please? It would help us get a win," I joked, while also being totally serious that I wanted her to wear the jersey.

        Lillian wavered, halfway between sitting on the couch and standing. "You're positive?"

        "Yes. Now quick, the game starts in two minutes," I said, watching as the camera panned across the open ice.

       She scurried to my room, closing the door behind her. Ten seconds, later, she returned, now dressed in my clearly-too-big jersey. The bottom came to her thighs and the sleeves almost devoured her hands entirely.

        In my jersey, she looked more adorable than ever.

        "Oh, no, should I put it back?" Lillian asked, mistaking my tongue-tiedness for disapproval. "I can put it back. I don't want to wreck-"

        "No. Keep it," I croaked, wishing I could offer an explanation for my attitude. Had I not (hopefully) coming back this season, I would've told her to keep it and wear it everyday for the rest of her life, although I doubt that would've come across well.

        As she sat down, still looking slightly nervous, I mentally shouted at myself. She was my nurse, my caretaker. Technically, she kind of worked for me. She was doing her job, and I was practically melting at the sight of her wearing my jersey. That would only get me in trouble in the long run.

         "Who are we playing tonight?" Lillian asked, tucking her feet up under her.

          It took me a second to answer. "Houston," I replied, hoping I didn't sound paranoid. Had she noticed me staring? Probably. Oh, gosh.

         "They're pretty decent this year, right?" she asked.

          I was surprised she'd known, considering what she'd claimed about her limited knowledge of hockey. "Yeah. They're top of their division right now, but barely," I said, clearing my throat a little. "I think most people are pretty sure they'll make the playoffs."

        Lillian grinned. "You don't sound pretty sure."

        "Yeah, I'm thinking that if they have even one injury or one losing streak, they're out," I said with a shrug. "Although I could see them landing a wild card spot."