S C O T T

There were no good tv shows on at two in the morning.

I never really stayed up that late, but I always figured that the same things were on in the afternoon where on in the middle of the night. But I was proven wrong as I skimmed through channels of golf matches, late-night cooking shows, and a lot of soap operas. (In other languages).

I groaned and dropped the remote, not paying attention to the Spanish soap on tv. Running a hand through my hair, I pushed myself off the couch stretched. It was around two in the morning, and I hadn't been able to get any sleep. Final try-outs were coming up and every time I laid down, my nerves got the best of me and I ended up just standing up again.

I heard Connor's door slam closed and I cursed under my breath, jumping back on the couch and pulling a pillow over my eyes. Connor had a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night, still half-asleep, and he was the most annoying person to talk to when he was like that. All he did was ramble about nonsense, and whenever I'd slip away, Connor would yelp about something new he thought of.

"I know you're awake," Connor sang, and I groaned, tossing the pillow off my face and propping myself up on my elbows. Con turned and grinned at me, "actually I didn't. But now I do."

"I hate you," I muttered, following him into the kitchen. I dropped down into one of the chairs by the kitchen table and propped my sock-clad feet up on the one in front of me. My stomach grumbled and I groaned again, "make something to eat."

Connor spent a good few minutes riffling through the cabinets and I leaned back in my chair, fingers folded behind my head. The cabinets had started to become less and less filled, and as Connor tossed empty boxes in the trash-can, I realized just how empty they were. We were practically down to a few cans of soup.

"We have nothing," Connor pouted and leaned against the counter. Running his fingers through his hair, he looked up and shot me a wide grin, "let's go get something to eat."

I rolled my eyes and leaned further back in my seat, barely supressing a yawn, "Let's go to bed."

"Together?" Connor smirked and wiggled his eyebrows and I scoffed, kicking out my seat and sucessfully nailing him in the leg. Mocking pain, he held up his hands in surrendor, "But really, 'm starving and we have no food. Plus - it's only two-thirty."

I scoffed and nodded, leaning forward to shoot Connor a dry look, "Only two-thirty? Just go get something.. Oh, get Chinese. I could go for some Chinese."

"I can't go alone!" Connor protested, tossing his hands up in the air and shooting me a pleading look, "I could get murdered! I mean.. Scott, come on. I'm fragile bones and nice hair, do you know how many people would could murder me?"

I smirked up at my best friend, "Right now, I can think of one."

"Exactly!" Connor said, completely ignoring what I said. He walked towards the end of the kitchen, stuffed his feet into a pair of sneakers and then walked back to me, "Hey, you know what I remembered? I never got to tell your teammates about Mr. Wiggles. I'm sure that would make a great story at next practice - "

Flipping Connor off, I reluctantly stood up and grabbed a pair of sneakers. I was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, so I grabbed a sweater, tugged it on, and followed Connor out the door. I really had no inclination to go out to eat in the middle of the night, but I was starving and anything was better than watching soap operas in another language.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and followed Connor into the parking lot of our apartment building. My car was in the shop, which meant for the next few weeks, I had to rely on Connor to drive me everywhere. Connor didn't have a problem with driving me anywhere, but he just wasn't the most trusted person during these things. I knew if I asked him to wait inside the car during practice, he would just follow me in, anyway.

But now, as we walked across the parking lot, I noticed Connor skipped right over his car. I frowned and stopped, shooting him a questioning look. It wasn't that cold out - the weather had slowly been getting nicer - but I didn't feel like walking all around town until we found somewhere to eat.

"You car's right here," I pointed out, leaning over and tapping the top of it.

Connor nodded slowly, "And I'm right here," I glared at him and he shot me another wide grin, "I'm not driving us. Plus, I'm pretty sure my car's on empty, anyway. Unless I can sit in the front and you can push the car. I'm for that."

"Fuck you," I mumbled, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets and walking down the street, "if I do of the flu, then it's your fault."

"I can live with that."

"If I do die," I added, sending Connor a cheeky smile as rounded the corner towards more of the shops, "I'll make sure to haunt you all the time. Every time to go make food, I'll burn it."

"How horrifying."

"You'll feel my wrath," I snorted and stopped, looking up at the street, which was lined with different shops. There was a pizza place and yogurt, but my eyes landed on the Chinese one, "I hope you brought your wallet."

Connor frowned and followed me into the store, reluctantly pulling out his wallet and mumbling something about how he 'always pays.'

The lady behind the counter shot us a polite look, and I ordered quickly, since she looks exhausted. Connor tried to strike up a conversation about how they decide which fortunes go in which cookie, and I rolled my eyes, grabbing the bag of food and pushing him away from the counter. Connor told her he'd be back to talk and I yawned, dropping down into a seat.

I tore open the brown bag and pulled out the large order of ribs and egg rolls. I wasn't too fond or any specific Chinese food, and neither was Connor, but this place made the best ribs. The workers had basically gotten used to us showing up just for ribs.

I yawned again and leaned back in my seat, eating and waiting to get back to the apartment to pass out. And, even though I was exhausted, I was glad Connor had coaxed me into getting out for a little bit. It was good to focus on something besides how nervous I was for the upcoming try-outs. Shaking my head, I pushed the thoughts away.

I dumped the bag over onto the table and one fortune cookie rolled out into the middle. Locking eyes with Connor, I leaned forward and snatched the cookie, shooting me a triumphant grin. Connor and I had a thing about whoever would get the better fortune when we got fortune cookies.

"I hope it says, 'you will come down with the flu and if you die you won't be able to haunt your friend because he's too good for you'," Connor said, shooting me a sarcastic wink.

I laughed and tore the wrapper off. Breaking the cookie in half, I pulled out the paper and straightened it out. Drumming my fingers on the table, Connor rolled his eyes and I picked it up, squinting at the dark text written across it. I frowned and flipped it around, only to see the 'lucky numbers' side.

"What's it say?" Connor asked, leaning half-way across the table in an attempt to see what was written on it.

"'You will find great treasure soon'," I read. Connor frowned and I flipped the paper around, letting him read it for myself. I scratched the back of my neck and dropped the paper on the ground, "does it mean I'm gonna become a pirate or something? What the fuck does find great treasure mean?"

Connor grinned again and snapped his fingers, "I think I know what it means! You already found your great teasure - "

"If you say my great treasure is you, I swear to God - "

"As great as I might be," Connor cut me off, shooting me a cheeky grin that made me nervous for what he was about to say, "I'm not your treasure," I opened my mouth to ask who exactly was supposed to be my treasure, but Con cut me off, "it's Elle!"

I ducked my head, a fine blush covering my cheeks immediately. I groaned and put my forehead against the edge of the table, avoiding Connor's gaze, even though I could hear him laughing at me. I ran my fingers through my hair again, breathing slowly and trying to stop blushing long enough to meet his eyes.

I looked up and meet Connor's light brown eyes, ignoring the way he was grinning at me. No matter how many times I told him that Elle and I were just friends, he refused to believe it. Connor believed what he wanted to in his mind, and anything that objected with what he thought was just ignored.

"You're blushing!" Connor pointed out, which didn't really mean anything. I had a bit of a blushing problem, "Life would be so much easier if you would grow a pair and admit you liked her."

I tapped my sneakers against the floor and hummed under my breath, "Life would be so much easier if you would stop pushing and saying that I do like her."

The truth was, Elle was amazing. When I was with her, she always had a way to make me smile and laugh - even if I was laughing at myself. She could be easy-going, and she did have a great sense of humor. No matter how stressed I was about try-outs, she had a way of making it seem like it was going to be okay. Plus - when she wasn't focused on hockey - she really was great to hang-out with.

And even Elle's minor flaws were things easily looked past. She was sarcastic, and sometimes a little too blunt for her own good. But it just made her who she was. Elle Monroe was a sarcastic person who spoke her mind, and I had grown pretty fond of her and who she was.

"You can tell me," Connor said, and I nodded, smiling at him. Con leaned back in his chair and quirked his eyebrows, "so, do you?"

I fiddled my thumbs together and locked my eyes down on the table, "I just don't... I don't know."

Silence fell over the table and I kept my eyes locked on my thumbs as I fiddled them together. I bit my lip and Connor cleared his throat, making me look up at him. He shot me a goofy smile and I raised my eyebrows at him, shooting him a curious look.

"And, I actually was going to say that I'm your treasure. I mean, c'mon. I'm a stud muffin."