*connor's pov*

I wasn't sure if I had ever had a "crush" in the way that the word was commonly used. I knew for a fact that people had crushes on me, some girl had asked me to be her valentine or something last year.

And probably the one girl that I actually felt a little twinge in my heart for, had no clue, and probably didn't, like me at all.

I mean, I was driving almost an hour in Chicago traffic at rush hour to get dinner at a Chipolte with Sierra Dames and her brother. There was a Chipotle across the street from my apartment.

I mean, I was driving almost an hour in Chicago traffic at rush hour to get Chipotle with Sierra Dames and her brother. I lived across the street from a Chipotle.

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si.dames: we've been waiting for five minutes

_connorbedard: i can't text and drive

si.dames: xxx-xxx-xxxx

_connorbedard: what is that

si.dames: my phone number you idiot

_connorbedard: okay??

si.dames: call me

_connorbedard: oh alright

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I clicked on the number and copied it into the phone app. My finger hovered over the green button. Someone behind me honked.

"Shit," I murmured to myself, pulling forward and clicking call.

She picked up almost right away. "Where are you?" She practically yelled into the phone.

"Calm down, Sierra," I said, even though I was sweating talking to her and definitely not calm.

"I am calm. I have school tomorrow. I'm going home if you're not here in the next thirty minutes."

"Uh," I look forward on the road, and then at the map, "we'll see."

"Bro, I will go home. I have six or seven AP classes and a shit ton of homework, so I'm leaving. I will drag my brother out of here and we will make you drive for nothing."

I sigh, zooming out on the map. "I'll figure it out. You gotta give me at least 30 minutes, Sierra."

"I'm giving you at most 30 minutes. You should have told us to come into the city."

"How was your tennis tryout?" I ask, veering off of the highway to get out of the traffic.

"I barely did anything. I'm actually sacrificing my high school tennis career for dinner with you. I've barely practiced today."

"I appreciate your sacrifice. I don't know how you'll ever recover, it's not like you're the best tennis player in the state or anything."

"Who told you that?"

"Your brother."

I hear her scream at Derek in the background.

"Hey, don't give it to him because I told you."

"That's exactly why I'm giving it to him."

"Who are you talking to?" Her brother asks.

"None of your business," she says.

"Can you tell him to be here in an hour otherwise we're leaving?" He said.

"Half an hour! You have half an hour, Connor Bedard."

"You can call me Connor, y'know?"

"My brother's just being annoying that's why."

I hear him scoff. "Stop eavesdropping on my phone call, you asshole!" She shouts.

"It's my phone call too!"

"No it's not. Connor, we're going to Target. It's in the same parking lot. It's huge, you can't miss it. I'm just bored, we've been in Chipotle for like six hours. Just come there when you arrive."

"Are you going to keep talking to me?"

"Will it help you drive faster?"

"I don't know, maybe?"

"That was forward," Derek says in the background.

"How can you hear my call?" She asked. "Stop eavesdropping, you creep."

I laughed into the phone, listening to the siblings bicker.

"Stop laughing!" She shouted into the phone. "Derek, just drive!"

"Your multitasking is pretty funny, Sierra."

"Shut up. Hurry up and drive."

"Are you at Target yet?"

"Yes. It's raining a little bit, though."

"It's raining here too."

"Where are you?"

"Like near a Jewel Osco?"

"Oh, I think you're close."

"My map says one more turn before I reach the Chipotle."

"Yeah, I know where you are," she tells me, "Hold on, Derek wants to buy something. Just meet us in the Target, okay? It's right behind the Chipotle."

"Okay, hold on, I'll just be a couple of minutes."

I turned onto a highway. I saw the red building with a circle inside of a circle. They didn't have Target in Canada, but I knew what it was from a couple of Seattle and Portland trips when I played in the WHL.

I parked the car close to the building and got out. The entire store was white and lighted, and I wished I had a store like this in Canada.

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_connorbedard: what section are you in

si.dames: you know you can text me with the phone number right????

_connorbedard: my bad where are you

si.dames: legos

_connorbedard: i would love to ask why

si.dames: derek

_connorbedard: where is that

si.dames: like if you enter and walk past the books, it's like the third shelf of kids toys

_connorbedard: alright, coming

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I followed Sierra's instructions, past the books and then to the toys. I saw the two siblings arguing near shelves filled of brightly colored boxes of LEGOs.

"I'm just trying to keep your common sense in tact!" she shouted.

"Well I'm trying to keep my childhood in tact!" he said.

"You're an idiot." she said.

"Sorry, my bad!"

"Jesus." She rubbed her hands over her face.

Her brother's face lit up, I assumed because he saw me behind his sister's back.

"Oh! Hey, he's finally here!" Derek said, and his sister turned around.

"Thank god, you took forever, jesus," she sighed, "you can't buy the LEGO, put it away."

"I'm buying it, Sierra."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine, but be quick about it."

He runs off to the checkout, holding his LEGO and laughing, probably at the convincing skills he just used to bamboozle his sister.

"Sorry, we just got bored. And Derek can't keep his hands off of anything."

"Well, I'm sorry about being late. It's a long drive."

"Are you making excuses, Connor Bedard?"

"No."

"Yes you are!" She smiles, and it makes me smile too.

"Hey, I came all the way out to the suburbs to have Chipotle."

"My dad makes that drive every game day, there and back."

"That's tough."

"Yeah, it is. Thank god your season hasn't started yet."

"Yeah." Training camp hadn't even started yet, so I didn't have much to do. "What about your tennis season?"

"I barely play USTA tournaments even though I'm ranked like third or something nationally. So it's a ton of practice, but right now it's just the school matches."

"You didn't have anything today?"

"No, I did. Earlier. But I put off my doubles practice for this, so you better enjoy this."

"I'll be sure to make the most of it."

Her brother came back with his box in a plastic shopping bag, and we left the store. It was still warm, and the Dames had parked their car at Chipotle, so we simply walked across the parking lot.

There was no one inside the restaurant except for a family of four sitting at a table.

Sierra ordered a burrio the size of a small child and Derek and I both ended up with bowls.

"What are we going to talk about?" Derek asked, resting his head on one of his hands.

"Well, I dunno, Derek, you're the one that arranged this lovely dinner, so why don't you start some conversation?" Sierra said, which made me smile a little.

"Well, Sierra, why don't you tell us how you feel about the Blackhawks," her brother smirked.

"I know what you're trying to do, Derek. And don't, please."

"No, I want to know," I interjected.

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think you do."

"I do," I insisted.

"Hate to break it to you, but I'm a Predators fan?"

"Big Pekka Rinne fan, I'm guessing?"

"Of course."

Pekka Rinne was a former Predators goalie who was great at terrorizing the Blackhawks.

Sierra was laughing and Derek was hiding a smile behind his hand.

"Your dad is the biggest Blackhawks fan of all time and his kids are Predators fans?" I asked.

"We lived in Nashville. He couldn't convert us. By the time he got the job here, we were already on the dark side," she said, waggling her fingers in my face.

"How long has your dad worked for the Hawks?"

"You were born in '05 right?" Sierra asked.

I nodded.

"Okay, same," she said, "just so my timeline lines up. I was nine when he got the job, so you would have been too. He was only on board for one Cup run, that 2015 one."

"So your dad is bad luck?"

Sierra giggled, and flicked me on the shoulder. "They won a Cup, I said. They made it to the playoffs two other times. It's not my dad's fault that they're-sorry, you're- not performing the best lately."

"Low blow, Sierra."

"It's not that low, you knew what you were getting yourself into."

I laughed a little too, throughly entertained by this conversation.

"Hey man, that's okay, it's how dynasties are built."

"Yeah, it takes a bit of suffering," Sierra said, "but y'all will be good someday."

"And the Predators won't?"

"Who knows," she shrugs, "they don't have you and that's a major minus."

"Flattering."

"I'm not starstruck by you, not like this guy is," she nudges her brother, "but I know who you are."

"Like what?"

"Why don't you tell me something about yourself that I can't find on the internet. I know you're a hockey sensation or whatever."

"Hmm," I didn't know what to say. What was even on the internet? What did she want to know? "I'm allergic to nuts," I finally said.

"Very interesting," she replied, "still? I was allergic to eggs as a kid, but I got over it."

"I'm 18, Sierra. Not that old."

"Are you calling me old?" She smiled, the joking clear in her voice.

"You must still be 17. If you're in school."

"I turn 18 in a month. But that's interesting. I don't think I saw that online."

"Chipotle's not really an issue, but breakfast is."

"School is rough with allergies. I remember that."

"Yeah, sometimes."

Sierra's phone vibrated on the table. She glanced at it. "Shit, it's late. I forgot I had practice with Keely, my doubles partner."

"If you have to go..."

"Yeah, hold on," Sierra grabbed her phone and stepped away from the table.

She came back a couple of minutes later, "yeah, I gotta go practice. But I had fun." She paused, "y'know what? You should come over to my house tomorrow." Derek rose his eyebrows at her. "Just to watch the Cubs game. It starts at 7:10, so be there around 7? And don't be late. I told you, Bedard, I'm going to make you a Cubs fan if it kills me."

She pulled her brother out of the restaurant and I was left sitting there with a wide smile on my face.

One of the workers had his mouth wide open. "Wait are you Connor Bedard?" He asked, "can I have an autograph?"

I was too happy to refuse.