(JORDAN)
Max wasted no time in telling the team about our little adventure this morning with Geno’s special friend. I calmly corrected his exaggerations, but mostly for Geno’s sake, who was trying desperately to hide him face behind his sweater.
“Wait, was she hot, though?” Brooks asked.
“Not from where I was standing,” Max jeered.
“Gene, what were you thinking?” Flower asked, and we all turned to look at him. Geno glanced up. He hesitated, and then mumbled:
“She look good naked.” The whole dressing room burst into laughter, along with Geno, now free of his embarrassment. Everyone nodded in acceptance except for Sid, who blushed and turned away, fumbling with his equipment.
“And I don’t want the world to see me…because I don’t think that they’d understand…” Max sang, skating around in circles. “When everything’s meant to be broken…I just want you to know who I am…”
“Feeling a little sentimental today, Maxime?” I asked over my shoulder as I skated past him.
“It’s Iris,” he responded. “It’s a classic.”
“You’re a sap.” I said.
“Maybe so,” he shrugged, and continued humming to himself distractedly. I laughed, turning my attention towards Sid, who was hitting slap-shots violently into the net. I skated to a stop beside him, but he didn’t seem to notice my presence, as he continued shooting puck after puck into the net, an aggravated look on his face.
“You okay, man?” I asked him hesitantly. He simply grunted, not even bothering to glance in my direction. I decided it best to leave him be; Sid had his weird moments, just like everyone else, and I knew well enough that the only way to calm him down was to let him do his thing, and he’d get over it soon enough. I hoped that would be the case this time; it wouldn’t do to have our captain in a bad mood on game day tomorrow.
The practice went by slower than usual. Something was definitely off with Sid; his stride lacked its usual quickness, and his passes flew astray. He couldn’t catch a pass to save his life; it seemed like there was a hole in his blade. This wasn’t the Sidney Crosby we knew, and everyone’s attitude seemed to be affected by his play. A captain has a huge impact on his team, which is why it’s so important to keep a steady set of emotions throughout the season. No one shows a better example of this on a daily basis than Sid, but everyone’s allowed an off-day. We all just hoped it would last for only a day, and not any longer.
The moment we stepped off the ice, my thoughts went straight to Al. I got dressed as quickly as I could and jumped into my car, pulling out my cell. I almost caused an accident getting out of the parking lot and trying to text at the same time, and then again, almost running a red light. I passed by the Starbucks at the exact moment I received her text, and slammed on the breaks in the middle of the intersection. It could’ve been God on my side, or maybe it was just good timing, but either way, I couldn’t believe my luck.
I don’t think I’d ever been more thankful for Brooks Orpik’s existence. I was delighted for an excuse to take her to my house, and jumped on the opportunity. I was happy to see Sid in a much better mood when we got there; what I wasn’t too happy about was how attached he became to Al—couldn’t he tell how hard I was trying to steal her attention? I took advantage of my jealousy to play a few harmless jokes on the kid, which, incidentally, put me in a much better mood.
Max had a lifetime goal of getting on my nerves. He always wanted to get under people’s skin; whether it was on the ice against an opposition or with his own teammates. He knew I hated the way he played with that delivery girl’s feelings, and yet he continued to pull her around, bringing her hopes higher and higher only to bring them crashing down like I knew he would. I didn’t want to flip out on him in front of Al, so I excused myself to go to the washroom before I had the chance. I bumped into Sid in the hallway upstairs, and, of course, being Sid, he had to nudge just a bit too far past the limits of his business.
“So, how are things going with Al?” he asked.
“Things aren’t ‘going’ at all,” I said, shrugging. He patted me on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry, man, things will work out,” he said, smiling.
“How do you know that?” I asked. He looked at me.
“It has to.” He said. I watched as he turned into his room and closed the door, and I followed suit on the opposite side of the hall. I was in the midst of getting changed into more comfortable sweats when I heard a voice coming from downstairs. It was a voice I knew all too well; a voice that I had lived with ever since I had moved here. I cracked open my door and poked my head out, listening. Yes, I was right. It was Max’s flirting voice.
I rushed out into the hallway, only half-dressed, and leaned out over the railing. I heard Max say some words in French, and she blushed. Then she began eyeing him, like he was doing her, and I gawked at them from upstairs. What the hell was he doing?
I had to put a stop to this. I ran down the stairs loudly; I didn’t know what exactly I was trying to stop, but I had a feeling my being there would do it. I walked through the room with purpose, trying my best to flex my gut and arms as much as I could. I heard Max yell something at me, but I didn’t turn around. I stepped into the basement and stopped. I realized then that I should probably give them reason to think I had a purpose for coming down here in such a hurry. I looked around, and picked up the first book I saw lying on the ground. I then ran back upstairs and back into my room, shutting the door and collapsing on my bed. I took a peak at the book I had grabbed, and saw with dismay that it was a dictionary. Geno must have been practicing his English words with Gonch again…crap. She probably thought I was insane now. Great. All I could do was hope she hadn’t noticed. I opened my drawer and pulled out my favorite Gucci shirt and changed into some jeans. I took a death breath before heading back downstairs to rejoin the party and hopefully get a little bit more luck on my side.
