Chapter 2

(JORDAN)


I slammed the door of my car and buried my head in my hands, groaning. I had just had about the worst practice of my life. I really needed to step it up; we had a big game tomorrow. I sighed and turned on the ignition, looking forward to collapsing on my bed for a good 12 hours of sleep before the morning skate.

I decided to try a new shortcut Feds had told me about. As I was making the unfamiliar route, I caught sight of a hockey net in a parking lot. I smiled to myself, reminded of my childhood, thinking I would see a couple of little boys playing street hockey. Gee, was I wrong.

What I saw instead was a girl, or woman, about my age I assumed. She was standing in front of the net, puck in place and stick in hand. I slowed down a bit, intrigued. I watched her as she took a slap-shot, and was surprised at how much power she had, for a girl. Her aim was left a bit to be desired though, and the puck flew astray. I slowed to a stop, and kept watching as she took a few more shots, receiving the same result. She then slammed her stick on the ground, obviously upset, and sat down on the pavement, covering her face with her hands.

I frowned. My conscience was telling me to keep driving, just make my way home and let her figure out her own problems. But, for some reason, I felt drawn to this girl. It was like some inner force was pushing towards her, beyond my control. I sat there debating for a few seconds, before the force won me over and I stepped out of the car.

I walked over to her slowly, waiting for the urge to turn back. It didn’t come. When I reached her, she didn’t seem to acknowledge my presence, so I lay down beside her. She smelled good, I noticed. Kind of…floral, somehow.
“Bad day?” I asked. She jumped slightly, obviously surprised.
“You have no idea,” she said, regaining her composure, but not removing her hands from her face. I chuckled; she didn’t know how wrong she was.
“By what I can see in front of me, I think I can make a pretty solid guess,” I said. I didn’t want her to know I had been watching her for a while; she might think I was a creep or something, and I didn’t want to make the wrong idea.
She didn’t say anything, so I continued. “Looking at the net, stick and pucks, I’d say you were practicing shooting. But judging by the position you’re currently in, I’m thinking it wasn’t going so well for you.” Good, now she thinks I’m just freakishly observant.
“And what would you know about that?” She asked me, an annoyed tone to her voice. I could tell she really didn’t want to talk to me, but for some reason, I kept ignoring the voice in my head that was telling to shut up and leave her alone.
“A lot more than you’d think, actually.” I said then, hoping she would just turn over and look at me. She didn’t.
“So what, you play sports or something?” she asked, as I tried desperately to hold in my laughter.
“You could say that,” I responded, grinning. She sighed and finally took her hands off her face, looking over at me. When it registered who she was staring at, the shock exploded all over her face. It was then that I took the time to see just how beautiful she was. She had gorgeous brown hair, which was currently tied up into a lose bun. She wasn’t very tan, and had a few tiny freckles scattered on her nose. Her cheeks were tinted pink because of the cold, and she didn’t seem to be wearing much makeup. And her eyes were an amazing green; they sparkled like emeralds. I laughed at how wide they were; she was obviously an NHL follower, or else she wouldn’t know who I was.
I jumped up and grabbed her hand, pulling her with me. I stuck out my hand for her to shake.
“Jordan Staal, pleased to make your acquaintance,” I said. I scoffed at myself inwardly. Like she didn’t already know.
“Al Elvidge,” she replied, shaking my hand. I noticed how firm her handshake was. I had once read in a book that firm handshakes show confidence and pride, and that the person was not afraid to show their true colors. Cookie had given me that book for my birthday as a joke, but I had actually enjoyed it. It gave me some pretty cool insights. I had once told Max that he was such a player because he felt insecure about himself; I had then received a body check than sent me flying into next week.
I wasn’t sure what to do next. All I knew was that I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to keep talking to her. It was then that I discovered our point of common interest.
“So Al, tell me, what was the problem with your shooting?” I asked her, using a strange voice, trying to be funny. I don’t think it worked.
“Uh…it was my slap-shot,” she told me, after a moment’s uncomfortable hesitation. I smiled; something I was good at. This was going to be easy.
“I see…” I responded, picking up her stick and handing it to her. She took it, giving me a confused glance, which I ignored. I then noticed how close the net was from the point she was shooting. That wouldn’t work; you can never tell how good your shot is from a short distance. I pushed it back a bit, and heard her ask,
“What are you doing?” I walked over to her, picking up stray pucks as I went.
“I am offering you my assistance,” I said, making sure to flash her my signature smile. I had been told often enough that it was one of my best qualities, and over the past few years I had made sure to put it to good use.
“Why?” she asked, still not convinced. She sure did ask a lot of questions.
“I never can resist helping a damsel in distress,” I told her, sending her a wink. I immediately regretted it; she didn’t seem the type of girl to be wooed by such profanities. And I didn’t want to go too fast and scare her away. I decided, for good measure, to add,
“And also you looked kind of sad when I saw you when I was driving by and I thought maybe I could cheer you up! I happen to be pretty good at hockey, and I also have a sparkling personality.” I said, smiling.
“Arrogant, are we, Mr. Staal?” she asked me, smiling back. I mentally kicked myself. Tone down the pride, Jordan. But, ah, her smile. She must have had braces as a child or something, because wow. Sid, eat your heart out, this one’s got you beat.
“Just shoot the damn puck,” I joked, throwing one her way. And she did. I was surprised at her power, but again, her accuracy needed work. I helped her through it, giving her some pointers, tossing in a friendly joke here and there. I made one mistake, though. I may have left my hands over hers just a moment too long, creating a rather awkward situation, but it eventually diffused. I was amazed at how easy it was for me to talk to her. Not that I wasn’t good at talking to girls; quite the opposite. I don’t like to brag, but I was pretty much considered as one of the best smooth-talkers on the team. Well, except for Max. And Geno, when he wasn’t speaking in English.

Overall, the encounter seemed pretty successful to me. I managed to get her phone number, and we even have little nicknames for each other. The tough part was figuring out a way to make sure I saw her again. It took a lot of pondering on my part, and eventually I figured the best way was simply to invite her to the game tomorrow. I could see how excited she was, no matter how hard she was trying to hide it. The fact that she was a hockey fan was a definite turn-on. I didn’t want to leave, but you know what they say: Leave them wanting more. So I did, hoping that she was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about her on my short drive home.

The moment I walked in the door, I was attacked.
“Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be home over an hour ago!” he yelled at me, getting inside my personal space. I pushed him back a bit.
“Sorry mom, I’ll try to abide by my 7:00 curfew next time,” I told our captain. He gave me a harsh glare as I slid past him and made my way towards the fridge. I caught sight of Max on the couch, trying to teach Geno how to play poker. Geno looked completely and utterly confused, and Max looked as if he were about to kill someone. I chuckled to myself; most of us had basically given up on trying to teach Geno stuff, but Max was a fighter. None of us would play poker with him anymore because he was so damn good at it, and he needed some new competition after all.

I grabbed the only thing there was left in the fridge and went over to sit on my loveseat across from the couch. It wasn’t really my loveseat, but I had basically claimed after that night I had with Cassie Coripelo a few months back. As I was sitting there, I got to thinking about Al, and how easy it had been to talk with her, and how much chemistry we had had. And about how truly beautiful she was. And it wasn’t a fake beauty either, like you see in most women nowadays. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone home with a beautiful woman and then woken the next morning up to a completely different face sleeping next to me. But Al…Al was real. I don’t know what it was, but there was just something about her. Something intriguing. Something…mysterious.

I must’ve been daydreaming pretty hard, because when I snapped back down to reality, I found three faces staring at me.
“Dude,” Max smiled, an evil look in his eye that I knew much too well. “Who were you thinking about?” I blinked and shook my head.
“What? Uh, no. No one,” I said, stumbling over my words, trying to regain my composure. But I couldn’t fool Max.
“C’mon, who’s the chick?” he asked, moving closer to me. Sid and Geno moved in too, intrigued.
“Hey, she’s not a chick, okay?” I said, but immediately regretted it.
“Ah, so there is someone,” Sid smiled, taking a seat across from me.
“Spill,” Max said. Geno nodded, but I really doubted he knew what we were talking about. I sighed.
“Her name is Al—”
“Al?” Max interrupted. “Isn’t that like…a guy’s name?”
“Is it short for Albert?” Sid asked.
“What? No! Of course not,” I exclaimed. God, these guys could be really stupid sometimes. “It could be short for Alexa, or Alexis, or Alexandra, or Alexandria, or Alexia, or…something,” I said, wondering what it really was.
“Oh! Is it that girl from last week? The blonde one?” Max asked, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.
“No, no, I just met her today.” I said. “And she isn’t blonde.” I added.
“Is she hot?” Max asked. Of course he would be the one to ask that.
“Yeah, she’s…she’s just…I can’t even describe her,” I said, smiling and shaking my head at her memory.
“Aw, dude,” Sid said happily.
“What?” I asked, grimacing at his tone.
“You’re in love!” he exclaimed, and Max and Geno burst into laughter.
“What? No I’m not!” I retorted.
“Our wittle Jordy has finally found somebody,” Max cooed, pinching my cheek. I slapped his hand away.
“C’mon, guys, I just met her,” I told them.
“Are you seeing her again?” Sid asked. I sighed, knowing this might cause some fuss from the boys.
“She’s coming to the game tomorrow,” I said. Sid jumped up and yipped.
“Yes! We get to meet her? Thanks, Jordy!”
“What did I tell you about calling me Jordy?” I growled at him.
“Uh…do it?” Sid said uncertainly, a smile on his oversized lips.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Max said. “Are you sure she even likes hockey?”
“Well, she was playing street hockey when I met her, so…” I said.
“Hold up,” Sid said, sitting back down. “She plays?”
“Well, yeah.” I said.
“Dude, that is so hot! Is she any good?” he asked.
“Her shot was amazing, but that’s really all I got to see,” I told them.
“Amazing, like girl amazing, or amazing like as good as ours amazing?” Max asked, his eyebrows furrowed. He obviously had trouble believing that a girl could have as good a shot as ours. Hell, I would have trouble believing it too if I hadn’t witnessed it myself.
“Her aim was a little off, but I think once she perfected that she’d be able to get one past Flower no problem,” I said, smiling.
“What? No way,” Sid scoffed, shaking his head.
“It’s true,” I said, nodding.
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Max said. Geno finally spoke up.
“You gonna call her?” he asked.
“Uh, today? No,” I said, although the idea didn’t sound too bad.
“Aw, c’mon man,” Sid pleaded.
“What, so you guys can steal the phone and completely humiliate me? No way,” I said, shaking my head and moving to turn on the TV. The guys eventually let it go, with much disappointment I might add. I didn’t know what the big deal was, it’s not like I had never liked a girl before. Well, now that I thought about it…huh. I had never really liked a girl before. Not since I started in the NHL, at least. It had always been those one-night-stands for me. Of course, I had had my last girlfriend, Heather. That had lasted for way too long. She had originally been a one time deal, but she had always seemed to find her way back into my life. We were together few about two years, I think, before I finally ended it with her. I had caught her cheating on me. What kind of a person is stupid enough to cheat on their boyfriend, and then take pictures of it on their cell phone? You know, now that I think about it, maybe she wanted me to find those pictures. I mean, she wasn’t the brightest bear in the forest, but it’s not like she made them hard for me to find. Wow, maybe she never really even loved me. Gee, this was shaping up to be a pretty rough night. I immediately stopped thinking about Heather. That whore.

Continuously throughout the evening I found myself reaching towards my cell phone. I wanted to call her, really, I did. But would it be too soon? I mean, I had only just met her a couple hours ago. Eventually, after much debating in my head, I decided on a simple text message, just to be safe.

Watcha up to?

A few seconds later I had a response.

Watching Friends :P

I gawked at the screen. No way. No fucking way. She liked Friends? Oh no. I had way more than enough of that god-awful show from Sid. I sent her another text, hoping, praying that she wasn’t an addict like he was.

Why?!

I sat there, holding onto my phone, staring into space, waiting for her response. Sid waltzed over to me and sat down.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“She likes…she likes…” I stuttered, unable to form words.
“…women?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and cracking a grin.
“No! Friends,” I told him, in almost a whisper. He gasped, as if everything wrong in the world had just disappeared and all that was left was sunshine and flowers.
“No way! Call her! I wanna speak to her! Please, please, please?” he squealed, way too excited. Right then, my phone buzzed.

Because it’s the greatest show of all time, duh.

Aw, hell no.
“Oh my God! Call her! Call her! PLEASE!” Sid yelled, jumping up and down on the couch.
“Fuck. Fine,” I gave in, opening up my phone and pressing the call button. As I was waiting for her to pick up, Max and Geno walked into the room.
“What’s going on?” Max asked.
“Shh!” Sid whispered. “He’s calling her!” Max pumped his fist in the air in triumph and they both came over to listen in on the call.

“Hello?” she asked as she picked up. I felt my face light up as I heard her voice.
“Hey kid!” I reciprocated, grinning. I saw Geno look at Max confused, but he just waved him away. “Are you serious about Friends being the greatest show of all time?” I asked her.
“Yeah, of course, why?” she said. I sighed.
“Well, I’ve got Sid here, you know, the hockey phenom, and it’s his favorite show as well…” Sid punched me in the arm.
“Really?” she asked, sounding surprised. I hoped it was just because Sid liked Friends, not because I had him here. I hoped she wasn’t a huge fan of him, you got way too much of that around here in this town.
“Uh, yeah…he knows like all the lines to every show. He makes it really easy for us to make fun of him…wait hang on a sec.” I said as Geno had to hold Sid down so he wouldn’t attack me.
“Put it on speakerphone!” Max yelled.
“She’s my soul-mate! She’s my soul-mate!” Sid kept saying.
“Shut up guys, I can’t hear anything,” I told them angrily.
“Just let me talk to her!” Sid said, and I shook my head. “Please? I promise I won’t embarrass you.” He said sincerely. I groaned and put the phone back to my ear.
“Okay, Sid wants to talk to you, he thinks you and he are soul-mates or something, so I’m gonna hand you over to him, kay?”
“Okay,” she replied. Sid grabbed the phone and jumped up, walking around the room as he talked. I wasn’t really listening, but I heard him say once,
“Yeah, they tease me about a lot of stuff,” which made Max yell,
“Like his huge lips and ass!” Sid took the phone away from his ear and yelled back: “You’re just jealous because I’m better looking than you,” Geno and I oohed at this, making Max turn around and smack Geno across the head. This started a huge commotion, which resulted to Max, Geno and I all trying to take the phone away from Sid. I managed to wrestle it away from them, but before I had the chance to say anything I was full out body-checked by Geno, making me drop the phone.
“What the fuck!” I yelled at him, but he ignored me and picked up the phone from the ground and ran up the stairs. I followed him up there but he slammed the door of his room and locked himself in there. I knew we should never have put locks on those doors.
I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I did know that it was definitely something I wouldn’t want him to. He was Russian, for God’s sakes. He had no idea how to respect the boundaries of people’s wishes. He was probably telling her I wanted to marry her and move to France. I started pounding on the door, yelling at him to come out. After about a minute he finally unlocked the door and handed me the phone, giving me a wicked smile as he did. Ah, shit.
“Hey, it’s me.” I said quickly into the phone, going into damage-control. “Listen, whatever Geno said to you wasn’t true. He’s crazy; he doesn’t know what he’s saying. You know Russians…they’re all messed up in the head.” I took a deap breath to calm myself down. “What did he say to you anyway?”
“Well, he said you told them I had a nice shot.” Al said.
“Oh…well, that’s true. But the rest is all lies!” I said, a bit relieved.
“He also told me that you said I was pretty.” She said slowly. Crap. Fucking Geno. That was the thing about him. He could be completely silent throughout an entire conversation, and you think he doesn’t understand a single word that you’re saying, but really he’s just soaking it all in like a sponge so he can use it against you later. He lulls you into a false sense of security and makes you think you can say absolutely anything around him without consequence. He was so much more evil than we gave him credit for.
“Uh…yeah, okay, that was true as well.” I said, not wanting to lie. Maybe she wanted me to think she was pretty. There was always that chance.
“That was sweet, Jordan.” Sweet. She thinks I’m sweet. I could do sweet.
“Oh, well thanks.” I said to her, smiling. From now on, I was sweet. Sweet and sensitive. If that was who she wanted me to be, then that would have to do.
We continued to talk for a little bit, until I remembered about the game tomorrow. I glanced at the clock and groaned. So much for twelve hours of sleep.
“Al, as much as I would love to continue talking to you, I have to go to sleep. I have a really big game tomorrow and—”
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” she cut in. “I need to go to bed too, I have an early class in the morning.” Right, I forgot she still was in school. I made a mental note to ask her about that later.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” I asked, making sure she hadn’t changed her mind about going to the game.
“Definitely.”
“Okay. ‘Night, Al.”
“’Night, Jordan.”
I sighed as I hung up the phone and slid down to the floor, my back against the wall. Why the hell was I feeling this way? This wasn’t normal for me, and I needed some answers. I looked down at the phone in my hand, and did the only thing I thought would help at this point.
I called my parents.