43: Wake Up Call

Post #43 soundtrack song - SafetySuit, Stay

I woke up around three a.m. to an empty bed. After having three drinks in the span of fifteen minutes last night, I should have been out until late morning. Something woke me up, but I wasn't sure what. At first, I was disoriented, unsure of where I was and what I was doing there. Soon, the memories of last night washed over me as realization sunk in. Fuck.

I wondered where Max was. We had fallen asleep together over the comforter on his bed and still fully clothed, but he wasn't with me now. He was such an incredible friend to me. I got out of his bed to find where he was. I don't know why I needed to know; I just would have felt better knowing he was around. As I stepped on the floor, I noticed my shoes had been taken off. Oh, Max. Right then and there, I decided to make it my life's mission to find that "one hell of a girl" that would be worthy of Maxime Talbot.

First, I peeked into the spare bedroom, thinking Max may have left me alone once I fell asleep. But he wasn't there. Then, I paused at the top the stairs, listening for sounds from the first floor that would let me know he was there. I thought I heard a voice, but I wasn't sure if it was the television or if it was Max.

Starting down the stairs, Max appeared at the bottom. He looked so tired, so drained. Why wasn't he sleeping? His accent was heavier when he he was fatigued. "What are you doing up?" he asked. "Did I wake you?"

"No," I responded, stopping halfway down the staircase. "I don't know what woke me up. And then I wasn't sure where you went. I didn't want to fall back asleep without knowing where you were."

"Are you ready to talk?" he asked.

I snorted. "Why are you even asking me that question? I don't have anything to talk about. But I still say one thing: I'm so glad that I didn't tell him I loved him when I had the chance."

Max's face changed. It was like I physically hit him with that tidbit of information, and he was taken aback by shock. And soon I did, too. The circumstances of the night became obvious to me, as Sidney moved next to Max at the foot of the stairs. So that's why Max wasn't sleeping—Sidney must have woken him up when he came over. That's why he asked if I was ready to talk, because Sidney was here, probably wanting to talk to me. But at three in the morning?

"You love me?" he asked softly.

I ignored him and asked Max, "What is he doing here?"

"I'm surprised we didn't wake you up sooner. He was pounding on the door and just barged in here, insisting that I wake you up so you guys could sort through this."

I snorted again and addressed my boyfriend. "Go home, Sid."

"But you love me," he said, this time as a statement. He was still in his suit pants, but he wasn't wearing the jacket or a tie, and his dress shirt was half buttoned, exposing the tee shirt underneath. His hair was disheveled, and he looked visibly distraught. Good, I thought.

"No, I only thought I did. I wouldn't let myself fall in love with someone who would hurt me like that. I'm not that stupid."

"I didn't do anything! She came onto me!"

"And I told you that she would! Don't you get it?"

Max stepped in. "Listen, Kid, just go home and sleep on it."

He shook his head, fire in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not doing this again, waiting around for it to finally sink in for you that you're being unreasonable. We're dealing with this tonight."

"What is there to figure out?" I said, my voice rising. I felt bad that Max had to listen to this and get involved. "I told you that she wanted in your pants, and you ignored me. She comes on to you, and you just stood there and let her! I saw the whole thing happen!"

"I didn't know what she was doing! She was talking to me, and I just was trying to be nice to my teammate's girlfriend. I didn't want to be rude. I was barely listening to her. And then she was right next to me, and it happened so fast I didn't know what was happening! I pulled away and told her I had a great girlfriend and that I wasn't interested."

Was he telling the truth? "Did it really happen that quickly? Because I remember it in slow motion," I mumbled. Sid didn't hear me, but Max nodded with slow, deliberate motions. Maybe he didn't have time to react, but that kiss was only half of the problem: he should have listened to me in the first place. "You made me feel crazy, like I was blowing everything out of proportion."

"I'm sorry if you felt that way. Lynne has never acted that way around me before."

"You're so naïve, Sidney."

"I told you I was sorry! What else do you want from me?"

I paused and fidgeted. "I don't know."

"Don't you see how foolish you're being?" he persisted.

"Well, if you don't like it, go find that stupid tramp! She'd love to have my sloppy seconds!"

"Did you just call me sloppy seconds?"

"Yes, I did! It's a good thing we didn't have sex yesterday, so now you won't seem like a man whore for moving on so fast!"

He looked at me with a pained expression. I hated myself for doing that to him. "I don't want her. When you act like this, I don't even know why I want you anymore."

I groaned. I really was starting to feel crazy and unreasonable, and I hated that I was pushing and pushing him. I was pushing him away from me, and that's not what I wanted to do. He looked so upset, and I wanted to pull him into my arms and comfort him. But I was still angry, and I felt I had every reason to be. "I don't know why either," I cried, torn between my contradicting feelings. I didn't think it was possible to feel so many things at once. I sat down on the step and leaned against the wall.

Sid softened. "I didn't mean it. I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you. Please, can we go back home and finish talking about this?"

I looked at Max, who had been standing there watching us the entire time. He looked exhausted and embarrassed for being involved in our intimate argument. I felt bad for keeping him awake, so I nodded and finished walking down the stairs.

Sid walked toward the front door, and I paused beside Max. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. Thank you for taking care of me tonight."

"Are you sure you want to leave now? You can stay here if you need to, and I'll kick him out."

"That's nice of you to offer, but he's right. We need to figure this out now."

Sidney led the way to his SUV and held the passenger side door open for me. I slid in, he closed the door behind me, and then he drove toward his house. As we left, I noticed Max was still in the doorway, watching our departure. My forehead rested against the window, and I watched the landscapes pass by as we rode in silence in the dark. We pulled into the driveway, and I thought about how easy it would be to get into my own car, drive away, and leave all this pain in my past.

However, I followed Sid into the house. He turned on the lights and sat in his chair, in the same position he was in on Friday night when we discussed our compromise and how we were going to work past our problems. I was starting to hate this room.

"I'm tired," he said. "I've been up all night, trying to listen to Flower and Staalsy when they told me to give you space. And then trying to convince Talbo to wake you up so we could talk. But I don't want to go to bed mad. This past week sucked when I tried to let you work through your issues on your own. I can't do that again. I can't go through that again. And I'm tired, tired of fighting with you. Can we talk about this calmly?"

"No," I spat, still furious. I know I was being childish at this point, but nothing hurt worse than what I saw last night.

He ran his hand through his hair and searched for something to say. "I told you, the whole thing happened so fast. I got our drinks, and then she was standing there beside me, talking to me."

"What exactly did she say to you?"

"She said that it was nice that we got back together. But that if things didn't work out between us—and she assured me that they wouldn't—that she would be there to pick up the pieces. She said she would never fight with me, and that she was perfect for me."

"And you didn't think that that classified as a 'come on'? You think she was just being nice? You knew she was going to do that."

"I never expected her to kiss me. We were in the middle of a packed club with her boyfriend standing just a few feet away, for fuck's sake! She's hardly even said two words to me before this. And she just kind of pounced on me! I didn't have time to react. And in case you missed this part, as soon as she kissed me, I moved away from her."

Was it possible that I was remembering that night more slowly? Maybe time is relative when you take your emotions into consideration. Maybe it did really happen that fast, and I observed it in slow motion because my heart was breaking. If it truly happened so fast, I guess I could forgive him for that. "Even so, you shouldn't have waited to move away. You should have seen what she was doing!"

"I'm sorry I'm not psychic and couldn't read her mind. I told you, never in a million years did I think she'd do that. I'm not the bad guy, here."

"There has to be a bad guy, Sid."

"But it's neither of us, Nelly. We've got something good here, I know it."

"Even if I believe you up to this point, that still does not excuse your behavior. After the whole ordeal, you acted like it was nothing."

"That's because she's nothing. She means nothing to me, Nelly, and you're my everything."

I looked down at my feet. Now what was I supposed to say? I didn't have a comeback for that.

When I didn't say anything, Sid asked, "What's going on in that head of yours? It's more than you just being mad at Lynne and me."

I didn't want to let go of my anger. Once the anger subsides, all that would be left is hurt. I didn't want to feel hurt. When I spoke this time, it wasn't with the fervor of our earlier argument. I was getting tired, too. "I am just pissed at you. You should have listened. Don't try to dismiss my feelings now as easily as you tried to earlier."

"I know you're angry, but there's something you're not telling me. Let me in."

My eyes were shut tight. I could either be honest with him—and myself—and try to work through the pain, or I could keep up the front and protect myself. I wanted so badly to take the easy way out. But, like always, I could never make things easy on myself.

"I'm scared."

"Scared of what?"

"You."

"What? Why? Nelly, you know I would never do anything to you."

"Maybe you wouldn't mean to, but you're just going to end up hurting me."

His eyes were wide. "Is this because I grabbed your arm?"

"No! No, I don't mean physically hurt me. I know you would never do that."

"Then what do you think I will do to you?"

I looked at my feet. "Break my heart. Devastate me."

"I love you, I would never break your heart."

"That's what I said. Maybe you wouldn't mean to, but you can't predict the future."

"You're right, but you have to know that I would never want to hurt you."

Looking into his eyes, I saw that he was being genuine. "I know," I emphasized. "And when I saw her tonight...." I swallowed, my throat feeling like it was closing. "When I saw her kiss you, I just.... I mean, it felt like...." I couldn't get a full sentence out.

"Say it, Nelly. Please."

His brown eyes were full of emotions, pleading me to say it, to say the reason why I was so hurt. He knew why, but saying it would make it real. Finally, I eked out the words, "Because I love you."

The weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders; I didn't realize I had been playing Atlas until that moment. This wasn't the way I wanted to tell him.

Sid smiled; he didn't care how I told him as long as he got to hear it firsthand. He knew I loved him, but knowing was not the same as my telling him to his face, to hear that declaration straight from my mouth. He jumped up from his chair and pulled me into a big bear hug. I was being squeezed to death, like a snake would constrict its prey. He leaned in to kiss me, but I stopped him.

This time when I spoke, it was with the fiery intensity of a thousand white-hot suns. "Not until you rinse your mouth out with half a bottle of Listerine. And I swear to God, Sidney Patrick Crosby, if you ever, and I mean ever, let any trampy bimbo kiss you again, I will rip your lips off and throw them down the garbage disposal."

Sid laughed. "Oh, Nelly. I love you to pieces. It will never happen again, I promise you."

I nodded, and suddenly a light bulb went on over my head. "Wait a second. You didn't do that on purpose, did you?"

"What on earth do you mean?"

"You knew I'd overreact. Did you let her kiss you so I would get angry and tell you how I feel?"

"No. Why would I want to piss you off like that? And risk you never wanting to see me again?" Even though he vehemently denied it, there was a glint in his eyes.

"You rotten bastard," I laughed, squirming in his arms. "You knew I would say it if you found a way to force it out of me. You couldn't wait for me to say it on my own terms, could you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he continued, his tone quite serious but the gleam still there. Was I right? Did he let the night unfold as it did, so I would get jealous and finally tell him, or was he just amused that I thought he did?

I laughed at him, "You like to be in control. You couldn't wait. I was going to tell you, I was just having a little trouble saying it."

"Well, it looks like you found whatever motivation you needed to say it."

"I just wanted the moment to be right, you know? It's like, every thing we do gets messed up. Nothing has happened naturally, have you noticed?"

We thought about our first drunken kiss, then our first real kiss that half his team witnessed, the disaster that was the first night we made love, the way he practically he screamed that he loved me during our blow-out, and now the way I confessed my feelings after having a temporary lapse of sanity. None of our big milestone moments went smoothly.

Sidney laughed. "Oh well. I wouldn't have it any other way." He leaned in again to kiss me.

"I'm not kidding!" I roared, pushing him away with a laugh. "I'm not kissing you until you wash your mouth!"

He shook his head and laughed, but he obeyed and jogged to the bathroom.

42: It's Not Perfection Yet

I love hockey.

I enjoy a lot of sports: tennis, obviously, football, soccer, but I especially love hockey. There aren't a lot of time stoppages and with no out-of-bounds, the play is pretty much constant. That means your emotions run rampant as the puck continues to move up and down the ice. The game is so intense.

And as if that weren't enough, the fans—and Penguins fans, most notably—are crazily devoted. Even if someone in the stands didn't understand what was going on, I doubt that they wouldn't get caught up in the crowd's cathartic outpouring of cheers.

Last season, I would watch the games at home or a local sports bar with fellow fanatics, and then watch the postgame interviews in the locker room. This year, I went to a lot of the games and got to watch them firsthand. And I didn't need to watch interviews, because I got to see a lot of the guys off the ice and outside of the rink. I had become entangled with the world of hockey that I had only known on the screen.

I thought about how lucky I am. Here I was, enjoying a game of my favorite spectator sport being played by my favorite team, surrounded by over seventeen thousand of my closest friends, plus Lynne of course. And the entire night was made possible by my wonderful boyfriend. In a million years, I never could have imagined this for myself.

The Pens won in a shoot out against the Devils, and the crowd erupted into a frenzy as Tanger deked and shot top shelf, stick side, and his teammates came out on the ice to celebrate with him. Kris was by far the sexiest guy on the team, and for a defenseman, he was great on the shootout. I knew we'd be going out tonight, for sure.

The fans started to file out of the arena and into the parking lot, and The Girlfriends and I (I still didn't include myself in their group) found our way back to the lounge to wait for the guys. Véro, Kelsey and I chilled out in one corner, discussing our favorite plays of the game and talking about the next weekend.

"It's my turn to host the viewing of the next away game," Kelsey said. "That's next Friday. I'm inviting all the girls. Are you coming, Noelle?"

"Sure, Kels, I'd love to come."

"The next night is a home game, and also the team's Halloween party," Véro added. "But I'm sure Sid's told you all about that."

"No, he hasn't," I told him.

"Well, he's had other things on his mind," Kels said, "like how to win you back."

I laughed. "I'm sure he'll mention it when things calm down again, since now he has a couple days off."

"I'm glad that you guys worked through everything last night," Véro commented absentmindedly. "Now people won't be asking questions anymore."

My eyebrows rose. "Who was asking questions?"

"Some of the girls, but it wasn't a big deal," Kelsey dismissed.

"No, now I'm curious. Please tell me. What were they asking?"

"You know, it was just Lynne running her mouth, and then when she started insinuating that you guys were over, some of the other girls were asking us if it were true." Véro.

"Yeah, everyone noticed that you didn't come back to your seat for the rest of the game, and then Max said you left early." Kelsey.

"What did you guys say to them?"

They both shrugged. "Just that you had had a fight, but it wasn't anything major."

I snorted, both at how quickly they wanted to overlook my quarterlife crisis and also at how Lynne would stop at nothing to interfere and become a third wheel in my relationship. "What a bitch. Why can't she mind her own goddamned business instead of being in mine?"

"Because to her, your business is her business, as long as it pertains to Sid," Kelsey stated.

I shook my head and looked for her in the crowded lounge. When I spotted her, I noticed she had been looking at me; once she saw me looking at her, she looked away. "I can't believe her."

The guys started to walk out of the dressing room and pair off with their girls. Sidney and Kris were the last two to join us. He approached and put his arm around my waist. I grabbed his tie and pulled him down to my level, planting a wet kiss on his lips, throwing my anti-PDA attitude out the window. Maybe if Lynne saw for herself that Sid was off the market, she'd back off.

Sid didn't care why I kissed him, just that I did. He grinned widely and kept his grip around my waist, pulling me against him. We had to make up for lost time.

"So, Diesel, right boys?" he asked. Some of the guys rolled their eyes and mumbled that we should go somewhere else for once, but their dissention didn't change any minds. We all headed for the parking lot, Sid and I leaving with his arm around my shoulders and my arm around his waist. Walking that way wasn't easy, but we laughed as we bumped into each other and zig-zagged our way to his Range Rover.

In the car, Sidney asked, "What's up? You're kind of quiet."

I shrugged. "I don't know why I let her get to me like I do, but Lynne just lights a fire under me."

"Her again? Nelly, I don't know why you two don't get along. She seems like a nice enough girl. Gogo really likes her."

"She hates me, Sidney."

"No she doesn't. How could anyone hate you?"

"She truly does, and seemingly for no other reason than I'm dating you."

"But she has a boyfriend."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean much of anything."

"Really? Does that mean I have to worry about you keeping an eye out for other guys?"

"No! Sid, why would you even think that? I can hardly handle you, let alone some other guy," I joked.

He laughed. "Well, then who's to say Lynne's the way you're making her out to be?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't be naïve. She wants in your pants, Crosby. She's totally using Alex to get to you."

He reached over and took my hand, holding it as he drove. "This is pointless. I already have a girl, and Lynne is the girlfriend of one of my teammates. Nothing is going to come of this. Can we just drop it? I can't handle another argument. Let's just have fun tonight, eh?"

I squeezed his hand back, but I was still a bit peeved. Didn't he see what she was up to? And even if he couldn't—which I shouldn't put past him, because he is rather naïve—he should wise up and listen to me.

We got to the club and were quickly ushered to the V.I.P. lounge. A girl could easily get used to this kind of treatment. Max was at the bar. I walked over to say hello, and he ordered four red-headed sluts. "These are your favorite, no?" he asked.

"Yes, I can't believe you remembered," I replied. "But why did you get four of them?"

"Because we've got two things to toast," he said, as if the answer were obvious. He handed me a shot and took one for himself. "This one is for you and the Kid. May you keep the conflicts to a minimum, because I hate when he's grumpy."

"Hear, hear!" We clinked glasses and downed each of our first shots. Then he handed me the second one. "What's this one for?"

"Ah, this one is for me. I won't be able to party as much soon. The docs cleared me. I'm playing in our next game, against Montréal!"

"Max! That's fantastic!" I cried, drinking my shot and then hugging him in congratulations. "Do you know which line you'll be placed on?"

He shook his head. "Coach will figure that out during our practices, now that I can play full contact. I'm so excited to be back out there. I figured you'd want to know."

"I'm so excited for you. The games are just boring without you, Superstar," I told him, giving him a wink. Inside, I was a little worried that he would be playing so soon. He wasn't expected to play until November. However, if the doctors and coaches thought it was okay, then it was. They know more than I do on the subject of shoulder surgery and rehab.

Max was a bundle of energy, bouncing between clusters of people and having a good time. After he left me by the bar, I meandered over to the railing overlooking the first floor, people-watching and swaying to the music. I wasn't a lightweight, but I could already feel the effects of the shots. Sid asked if I wanted something from the bar, and I nodded. Another drink wouldn't hurt. As he was stuck at the bar getting his drink order, Alex Goligoski walked over to me.

"Hi, Noelle," he said. I didn't know him quite as well as I knew some of the other players, but I knew he was a good guy.

"Hey Alex. Good game tonight."

"Thanks." He fidgeted a bit before speaking again. "Listen, I'm really glad you and Sid worked things out."

I laughed. "Does everyone know about the intricacies our relationship?"

He laughed with me. "Don't get the wrong idea about Sid. He never said a word about it, we all could just tell something was up. You both wear your hearts on your proverbial sleeves."

"Yeah, well, it would be nice if some people weren't as perceptive to that as others," I said, thinking of Lynne and finding her in the lounge. I shouldn't have been surprised to see her at the bar next to Sid, talking to him. He had our drinks in his hands, but he was trying to be polite and listen to her. She trapped him at the bar, and he was too nice to blow her off.

Alex followed my line of sight. "I know she doesn't love me, even though she says it. All the guys are telling me she's up to no good, but I don't feel right breaking up with her unless she gives me a reason to."

I faced him, forgetting about Lynne and her close proximity to my boyfriend. "Do you love her?" He shook his head. "Then isn't that enough of a reason?"

"No. But I think she's giving me one right now."

I turned back to the scene before us, as she inched closer to Sid. The bar was crowded, and he only had so much room to back up before he couldn't move anymore. Lynne still zeroed in on him.

"Tell her 'no,'" I whispered to myself. Anger was building up inside of me. I wanted to march over there and slap her silly. I wasn't jealous; jealousy would imply that I wanted something of hers, or I was worried about her taking something of mine. I just knew that she was up to no good. Sid was mine, and I knew he didn't care about Lynne. Even if he liked her, he'd never do that to his teammate. Or me, I hoped.

As pissed as I was, I was rooted to my place on the floor. I expected something like this from Lynne. I knew she liked him and was devious enough to try something to get him. But I had tried to warn Sidney about her, and I wanted him to realize how silly she was. To push her away. To tell her that there was no fucking way in hell he'd ever be with her. He wouldn't believe me when I told him she wanted him, so maybe now that she was throwing herself at him, he'd see it for himself.

"Do something, Sid," I again whispered. Alex stood next to me, shaking his head, getting angry. He, too, was unable to move and stop them. We were helpless and frozen, watching the interaction between Sid and Lynne.

Even though I was psychically willing him to act, Sidney stood there, obviously distressed but unmoving. She leaned in closer to him, her face inches from his, then millimeters, until there was no more space between his lips and hers.

Everyone in the V.I.P. lounge saw. There must have been neon arrows pointing to the two of them. All the players and their girlfriends watched as Lynne put the moves on Sidney and kissed him and further watched as Sidney did nothing to stop it. They looked at them, then looked at Alex and I observing the kissing scene, before looking back at the bar. Sidney jerked back his head, breaking the lip-lock and looking embarrassed.

Alex's face reddened, and he strode to the bar, said a few choice words in her direction, and then left the lounge and club. Lynne appeared shocked—did she think no one would notice?—and chased after him. Poor Alex. He told me he didn't love her, but he was still obviously upset with her. And who could blame him? Seeing his girlfriend kiss his teammate couldn't have been an easy thing to see.

I should know; seeing his girlfriend kiss my boyfriend wasn't an easy thing to see.

Sidney shook his head and joined me against the railing. He handed me my drink but didn't say anything right away. I couldn't say anything to him because I was too angry. I drank the entire glass in just a few gulps, trying to numb the feelings churning inside of me.

"Wow, I guess you were right."

"'I guess you were right'? That's all you're going to say?"

He looked surprised at the venom in my voice. "What are you so upset about? She kissed me."

"And you just let it happen. I'm not upset, Sid. I'm furious. I told you she was an evil, conniving little whore, and you dismissed me like my feelings were unfounded. I was right, Sid; I was dead fucking right."

Ever since Lynne followed Alex out of the room, all eyes had been on us. He ran his hand through his hair. "Can we not do this here, now? Let's go home and talk."

"Oh, you're right," I spat. "I wouldn't want to cause a scene and sully your spectacular reputation. No, you did that all on your own by kissing that skank."

I couldn't be around him anymore. Just being near him left me seething. I started to walk away from him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "Nelly, wait...."

I ripped my arm from his grasp. "Don't touch me. And don't call me that. You can't sweet talk me now."

People stepped in around us. Marc-André, Véro, Jordan, and Max stood between Sid and me.

"Let's keep our tempers here," Véro rationalized. "Let's not do anything stupid."

"Too late," I spat, and then I headed for the stairs, needing to get outside into the fresh air. I heard someone follow me, but I didn't care who it was. I couldn't breathe in that stuffy club, and soon my eyes were burning from tears of frustration. How could he just let her do that? In my mind, that was just as bad as if he had kissed her himself. He didn't even try to get her to stop.

Once outside, I sat on the curb. Usually, I was such a reasonable person. I thought things through and never acted irrationally. Until I met Sid. He pushed my buttons and made me feel emotions I never thought existed. Not to mention I couldn't think straight around him. I just abandoned him in Diesel, stuck in the Southside with no way to my car and no other way home. What was this power Sid held over me to act so stupidly?

I heard voices behind me, one male and one female. "Drive around for a bit and give her time to cool off. Then take her back his house." The female voice.

"No, I don't think they're going to be able to talk about this tonight. Tell him I have her, and just to take it easy tonight. Tomorrow's another day." The male voice.

Then I felt hands on my shoulders. "Come on, Noelle."

My fury began to partially transform into apathy. "I wanna go home. Take me to get my car, Max."

"No, you're not in a condition to drive. You're coming with me."

"Please, Max, I just want to go home and crawl into my bed."

"You can stay with me, for tonight," he coaxed as he pulled me into a standing position. He led me to his beemer, and I got in the front seat. It only took us a few minutes to get to his house. We went inside, and that's when I lost my composure. Max had taken me to his spare bedroom, and all the memories from Sid's birthday came rushing back.

"I can't sleep here."

"Okay, here, take my room."

"I don't want to kick you out of your own bed. You're already doing too much."

"Don't worry, Noelle. We'll get everything sorted out in the morning, and then you can never set foot in my house again." I tried to smile to Max, to show him my appreciation, but the corners of my lips wouldn't curl and I finally let the tears spill on my cheeks. "Oh no, Noelle, please don't cry." He pulled me into his arms and we sat on the edge of his bed. "I'm no good at this sort of thing, and this is two days in a row you're making me comfort you."

I sighed, but I didn't allow him to let go of me. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I don't have anything to say about tonight, except he should have listened to me. He can have that whore."

"It's late, Noelle, and you're upset. Don't say or do anything you may regret in the morning. Let's just get some sleep and deal with it tomorrow." We laid down on his bed, and he rubbed my back and I closed my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Max."

"What are you apologizing to me for?"

"You were having such a good time tonight. Celebrating. I bet you were planning on bringing a girl home, and you're stuck with me instead."

He laughed, and I felt the bed shake. "Of all the girls I could have brought home, it figures I pick the one that doesn't want me. Honestly, Noelle, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. It looked like he ripped your heart out."

"He did. But I don't want to talk about it," I said, feeling my chest clench again.

He continued to rub my back. "You'll talk about it when you're ready."

This was so messed up. I should have been in bed with Sidney. Things were just starting to get good again, and in the span of twenty-four hours, they were all screwed up again. Max kept saying that the situation would be sorted out come morning. But as I drifted off, I couldn't help but think that if this was how life with Sidney would be, argument after argument, broken heart after broken heart, I didn't want to wake up.

41: Just Say the Words

As I sat in the arena for the night's game against the Devils, back in my Crosby jersey with Sid's black Reebok hoodie underneath, Véro on my right, Kelsey to my left, Heather next to her, and Lynne still further down with a scowl on her face. At that moment, everything seemed right with the world.



Last night, we had turned in early. Once we had made up, I felt just how exhausted I was. When your emotions take you for a roller coaster ride, it affects your body just as much as your mind. Sidney had led me upstairs to his room, where I noticed the bag I had left behind was once again empty and my clothes are back in the top drawer of his dresser.

"You moved me back in," I commented, opening the drawer and finding my sleepwear. Unfortunately, tonight I needed it.

"I knew you'd be back. Why do you think I played so well tonight?"

"Really? Now how did you know that, O Wise One?"

"I just did. No woman can resist me for long," he teased. I pushed him away jokingly, and he grabbed me and pulled me down on the bed on top of him so I was straddling his hips. "I knew with every passing day that it was getting harder for you to say no. And the longer it took you to say no, the easier it would be to say yes. I would have waited as long as it took to hear you say yes."

I teased him back while I placed my hands on his chest. "Would you have waited a few more days?"

"Yes."

"Would you have waited a month?" I ran my hands down to his abs.

"Mm hmm." His hands were rubbing my outer thighs.

"A whole year?"

"Whatever it took."

"You're so full of shit, Crosby," I laughed, poking his sides. He grabbed my hands and rolled on top of me.

"That's why my eyes are brown."

We fell into a fit of giggles. Sid was on top of me just enough that I could feel the pressure of his body pin me to the bed, but he held himself up so that he wasn't crushing me. I grabbed his neck and pulled his face to mine. I had really missed kissing those big lips. Even though I was enjoying this, I couldn't help but notice it felt different.

Frustrated that I couldn't go much further than kissing, I slipped out from underneath him, grabbed my shorts and tank top to change into, and left the room for the bathroom in the hallway.

"Where are you going?"

"I have... business... to take care of," I reminded him. When I re-entered the room, he was reclining in bed in just his boxer briefs. I groaned, my body aching for him. I wondered if he had any idea what he was doing to me; he smirked, and I realized he knew exactly what he was doing. I grabbed his black hoodie from the door knob of his closet—just where I had left it—and reclaimed it as my own. I began to throw it over my head, but I threw it back on the door knob. "Wear that tomorrow," I instructed him.

"Huh?"

"Please?" I batted my eyelashes. "Pretty please wear that hoodie tomorrow?"

"Why?"

"So it smells like you again."

He laughed and agreed to. "You're so weird."

"I can't help it that I have strong olfactory senses."

I crawled into bed and nestled against Sid. Something still felt a little off, but feeling a little off with Sidney was better than feeling my best without him. I guess maybe we had become a little disillusioned, knowing that no relationship is perfect and ours still required work. The newness was wearing off and reality was sinking in.

Before we fell off to sleep, the rest of the night was spent in silence. Generally, Sid and I didn't need to talk; we were fine with silence between us. This time was different, as if we were both too afraid to say anything and spark a misunderstanding that would ruin our newly found happiness.

In the morning, I woke up as Sid was rolling out of bed. I sat up and watched him throw on a pair of sweats, a plain white shirt, and then that black Reebok hoodie.

"I've gotta go to the morning skate. Go back to bed. I know, I know, morning breath," he teased, leaning across the bed to kiss my cheek.

As he started to walk away, I called after him. "Sid, wait."

He turned and looked at me. "You're using your serious voice again. Is everything okay?"

I tried to get out those three words, but they caught in my throat and I choked on them. "Sorry, yeah. Everything's great. Have a good skate. I'll see you when you get back."

Sid nodded, and then he was gone. What was wrong with me? I didn't want to wait any longer to tell him; now that I was sure I felt that way, I wanted to scream it from the rooftop. I had wasted the entire week! I could have been spending time with him while he was home this week. He still had a few more days in Pittsburgh before an away game on the 30th. But he'd be back for one more home game on Halloween, and then he'd leave for a long road trip. I promised myself that I'd tell him before he left on that road trip.

Instead of going back to bed, I wandered into the kitchen in search of food. My stomach was growling, since I hadn't eaten since lunch the day before. I didn't have time before the game, and I was too nervous to eat anything once I got there. Sidney was right—he didn't keep food in the house. The cereal was stale and the milk was sour. He needed someone to take care of him before he poisoned himself.

I jumped in the shower and dressed before heading out to the store. Not being familiar with the city, I went to the Whole Foods that Sid had taken me to before. I bought what I would need to cook his pregame meal, as well as some things for myself as well. The cashier recognized me from the last time I had been there with Sidney, I could see it in her eyes, but she didn't say anything. She just smiled at me broadly.

The total came to less than thirty bucks, and I opened my wallet to pull out my debit card. As I reached for it, the red credit card from Sidney fell to the floor. Picking it up, I faced my first hurdle. This was exactly what we had discussed last night. This purchase was definitely categorized as "boyfriend-related," but I still struggled to swipe it.

The cashier must have thought I had gone bonkers, because I stood there, staring at my green debit card and the red credit card, still unsure. Finally, I closed my eyes and handed her the one in my right hand. She handed me back the red card and the receipt. I did it! Sidney would be so proud. I decided I would tack the receipt to the refrigerator and show it to him as if it were my first grade report card with straight A's.

I drove back to Sidney's house, ate a late breakfast/early lunch, and started to cook his pasta and chicken. I plugged my headphones in my ears and listened to my iPod as I worked, dancing ridiculously in my socks on in the linoleum floor and singing along when my favorite Roses Are Red song started (A/N: I officially apologize for the poor sound quality and awful haircuts).

"So sound the alarms. It's gonna take more than a miracle to save me from your charms. So sound the alarms. It's gonna take more than a miracle!" As I sang along, I noticed that a shadow was being cast on the wall in front of me. I froze, frightened and hoping my mind was just playing tricks on me. Then the shadow moved; it was a silhouette of a person, a man who was definitely bigger than me. Panicking, I grabbed a knife off the counter and spun around, ready to defend myself.

"Don't come any closer!" I screamed, holding the knife out in front of me to ward off an assault.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled at me.

"Sidney, geez, don't do that!" I yelled back, pulling my headphones out of my ears. "Don't sneak up on me like that. I would have stabbed you!"

"I didn't sneak up on you! I tried to get your attention, but you were singing so loudly that you didn't hear me. And you were a little off key, too."

I was embarrassed, and my heart was still racing from the adrenaline. "I didn't expect you home so soon. Did the morning skate go okay? Didn't you have any interviews?"

"The skate was fine. And I kinda cut the interviews short. I just wanted to get home straight away, since I had a reason to be here," he said, moving closer to me and taking the knife out of my hand. "And by the way, next time you think someone's going to attack you, reach for a steak knife or something. A butter knife isn't going to do much damage."

I rolled my eyes at him and went back to cooking. Fishing out some noodles with a wooden spoon, I grabbed one and taste-tested one. I reached for another and held it up to Sid's lips for him to try it. "Tell me if you think it's done."

He held my wrist and brought my hand to his mouth, sucking the noodle between his lips and then kissing my fingers and hand. He was so sweet and saccharine that it was almost sickening. Almost. "Tastes good to me," he said with a cocked eyebrow, his comment laced with innuendo.

I love you. Come on, Noelle, just say it!

He walked away into the living room when I paused too long. Once again, another moment passed me by. I wasn't waiting for the perfect time to tell him, so I don't know why the words would just not come out of my mouth. Typically, I have no problem speaking what's on my mind, so why was speaking what's in my heart so different?

I finished preparing his pregame meal, and then I sat on the counter and watched him eat, just like I did last weekend. He thanked me by kissing me and then headed to his room to take his nap. Oh, the life of a hockey player. I wish my job paid me to nap.

I decided that I was pretty tired, too, so I followed him upstairs to nap in the guest bedroom.

"What are you going in there for?" he asked me as I stepped into the bedroom I had slept in the first night I stayed with him.

"Well, I figured I'd lay down for a while."

"Come to bed."

"I don't want to mess with your routine. You need to get some rest before the game, and I will only disturb you."

"No, come on," he insisted, patting the spot on the bed next to him. I couldn't turn that down. We spooned, which was my favorite position with Sidney. His arms were around my stomach, pulling me close into him, and his one leg was hooked over mine. His face was buried in my hair and I could feel his steady breath on my ear. He enveloped me.

Our delicious nap was over too soon, and we climbed out of bed. As he ate his pregame snack, I got ready for the game, and I pulled that blue Crosby jersey out of his closet. It was going to feel good to wear this again.

Sidney drove us to the Igloo, and I again hung out in the lounge while he went through his routine in the dressing room. I greeted the players as they walked by, some staying to talk with me while others merely nodded and continued into the dressing room. I helped Brooks with another crossword puzzle, and then blushed fiercely when Craig Adams said hello to me. When Jordan walked by, he said it was good to see me again, and then loudly bellowed as he entered the dressing room, "Now I know why you were in such a good mood at the morning skate, Sid!"

I laughed and shook my head. When Véro and Kelsey showed up, we made our way up to our seats. Lynne was already there, and her face reddened when she saw my attire. I waved to her with a smug look on my face but didn't say a word. I didn't need to. There was fire in her eyes; I think she truly hated me. But right now, I couldn't care.

Yup, at that moment, everything seemed right with the world.

40: No Surprise

I hope it doesn't seem too over the top or too theatrical. I'm kind of proud of it. I'd appreciate your honest assessment. ~Jay



Everyone had told me: relationships are hard work. And then there was the favorite saying of the Pens: nothing worth winning ever came easy. After days of battling with myself, I made my decision. Now, I had to tell him, but I didn't know how. Should I wait until after the game on Friday to call? Better yet, maybe I should wait until after Saturday's game, so his weekend games wouldn't be affected by my answer.

By Friday afternoon, I was still unsure. I felt bad that I had made up my mind, and Sidney was still unaware of the conclusion I had come to. It wasn't fair to him.

Véro called while I was procrastinating at work, pretending to read a file when my eyes were really unfocused and blurring the words on the page. It was the first time I had spoken to her since Monday. I took the call at my desk knowing I wouldn't have to censor myself, since Steve was in the boss's office reviewing a case.

"I just wanted to check in, see how things are, and if you're coming to the game tonight."

"Uh, no. I haven't spoken to Sidney since Monday, so I don't have a ticket."

"Sid's not the only one with connections, you know. If you wanted to come, we can find you a seat. Hell, everyone there knows you by now. You could get in on that alone."

"Ha, well, thanks for the offer. But I don't want him to know I'm there if I haven't spoken with him yet. I mean, you saw his reaction on Monday during practice, I don't want to know what he'd do before a game."

"He doesn't have to know. You and I obviously need to talk and catch up with what's going on, and Kels and I need someone to help buffer our interactions with Lynne. And you know how much Lynne likes you, so that takes a lot of pressure off us," she laughed, and I couldn't help but giggle back a little.

"I would love to come to the game and see you, but I really don't want to risk a run-in with him until I talk to him."

"We'll keep it a secret. And then you guys can have your magical reunion after the game! It will be so romantic," she urged.

I snorted. "Just like Marc kept it a secret on Monday?"

"That was an accident. It was my fault, really. Since you were acting all paranoid, I thought it would be a good idea to let him know what was going on. I can't help it he opened that big mouth of his. Those guys gossip more than we ever did."

"I still don't know, V...."

"You know you want to come, if only to watch some hockey, so why are you fighting it?"

"You're right. Fine. But I probably won't be able to get there until after the game starts. I'll have to go home and get my jersey."

"You know the drill, we'll have a ticket waiting for you at will call."

"Okay, I'll see you at the game. We'll chat during intermission." I hung up the phone and wondered if this plan would be successful tonight. After all, it seemed every time I hoped for a certain outcome or tried to get away with something, it never worked out in my favor. First, I wanted—no, needed—last weekend to go smoothly, and that blew up in my face. Then, I tried on Monday to symbolically end this twisted relationship by reclaiming my things, and that turned into a fiasco faster than it takes Tanger to score a goal from the point with a slapshot on the power play.

After work, I drove back home, changed into jeans and my trusty-rusty Talbot jersey, threw on my Pens cap that Max had bought me, and drove into the city. It was a waste to drive home in the opposite direction of Pittsburgh, only to have to double back and pass my office building again, but I wanted to make sure I'd blend into the crowd tonight. Sure, I had to talk to Sidney, but I would do it when I was ready. I wasn't going to let him corner me again and force me into something I didn't want to say or do. Not this time.

The clock on my dash read quarter til eight when I pulled into the parking lot at the Mellon. I was so far from the gate, but at least a parking space by the exit meant I might be able to sneak out and beat the traffic at the end of the night. With my I.D. ready, I got my ticket at will call and headed to the family section. I had to step over Lynne to take my seat between Kelsey and Véro.

"Uh oh, back to the Mad Max jersey? I hope that doesn't mean trouble in paradise," Lynne chirped as I past her.

I stomped on her foot. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Lynne! I'm such a klutz. I hope I didn't hurt you." When I got to my seat, I looked back at her. She was red-faced. "But things with Sidney are just great, thanks for asking." I hated that I lied and acted so childishly, but I didn't want her to have any knowledge about how things were between us. That would only fuel her desire to interfere.

The scoreboard displayed that the Panthers were winning, 2-1. I had listened to Mike Lange and Phil Borque on The X on the way into the city, and I knew who scored the Pens' goal. However Kelsey volunteered the information to me. "Billy scored in the first five minutes of the period, and Sid had the assist." Those girls were one of a kind. Well, I guess they were two of a kind. They couldn't let me enjoy the game without pestering me for information or bringing up the topic of Sidney.

"Can we do this during the first intermission?" I asked, inching forward in my seat as Malkin looked like he was getting a breakway. "Come on, Geno!"

At the end of the period, both girls turned to face me, one on either side of me, sandwiching me and trapping me with stares. I noticed that Lynne was still in her seat next to Kelsey. "Can we not do this here?" I asked, nodding my head in Lynne's direction.

We stood up and they lead me somewhere. They obviously knew where they were going, but I was clueless. We ended up outside of a suite where the Lemieuxs and some of the injured players were watching the game. It was a restricted area, and I knew we could speak without worrying about eavesdropping.

"So, what happened after practice?" Véro asked.

I shrugged. "We talked. We apologized. We explained ourselves and tried to justify our actions. Isn't that how most reconciliations go?"

"So you're reconciled?" Kelsey.

"Well, not exactly. Not at all, in fact. We're still kind of in limbo. He said he was willing to compromise, but I told him I needed to think about it and make up my mind before I could commit to finding a solution."

"Wait, so you didn't even find a solution?" Kelsey.

"Do you know how much like my mother you sound? No, because I wasn't sure if I wanted to compromise."

"Why not?" Véro.

"Wow, I think in a past life, you guys were involved in the Spanish Inquisition. Because I didn't think I should have to compromise. Why can't he just listen to me? I mean, I made it clear that I don't like these extravagant surprises and him spending his money on me. So he should just stop like I asked him to."

"Stop being so stubborn." Kelsey.

"Don't you know how to make relationships work?" Véro.

"So what's going to happen now?" Kelsey.

"Well, I made up my mind and I was going to talk to him, but I don't know if I should do it after tonight's game or tomorrow's."

"Tonight!" they cried in unison.

I laughed at their behavior but turned serious when I answered them. "But what if I upset him, and he can't focus for the game?"

"Will you stop worrying about the games! This is your happiness, for crying out loud! He'll be ecstatic to hear from you, because Marc's said he's been miserable all week!" Véro.

"Unless you're giving him bad news, that would upset him." Kelsey.

"You're not giving him bad news, are you?" Véro.

I would have said anything to those girls to get them to stop looking at me like that. As if this whole situation weren't uncomfortable enough, they were making me feel one hundred times worse. I thought they were supposed to be my friends, so why were they taking Sid's side? "I'm not exactly sure what kind of news I'm giving him."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Véro.

"I thought you said you made up your mind!" Kelsey.

"Yeah, I did, but I only decided that I was going to give him a chance to find an arrangement we could both live with. And if not, then, well...." The girls just stared at me. "What? What else do you want from me? I'm trying here to be reasonable."

"You call that being reasonable?" Kelsey asked.

"Yes. You guys don't understand. You've been with your boyfriends, or have known them, since you were young. They've always been in the picture, somehow. I'm a grown-ass woman, and I cemented my standards and morals before he was ever involved in my life. He's calling into question everything I've known and told myself was true. This is the best I can do at this juncture." I was close to tears. I really thought I had come up with the best solution I could, and they made me feel like it was too inadequate.

They still didn't look pleased with me, but they backed off a little when they saw my eyes water and suggested we return to our seats. I knew this wasn't the end of this battle with them.

As we passed by Mario's box, I saw Max talking into his phone in French. He saw me, ended his call, and approached with raised eyebrows. "Not that I should be complaining, but you're wearing my number tonight?"

I lost it. I didn't need someone else commenting on my life again. My eyes overflowed with tears, and I squeaked, "Et tu, Maxime?"

I'm not sure if Max understood my Shakespeare reference, but he damn sure knew I was upset. He pulled me into his arms, and I let myself cry hot tears while silently cursing myself. It felt so unnatural to be in his arms; I didn't fit into them like I did in Sid's. The girls returned to their seats while Max comforted me.

"Woah, Noelle, where is this coming from?"

Pulling away, I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jersey. "I'm sorry. I just can't take any more criticism today. You all act like this is so easy, and I'm just retarded for not being able to figure it out." Political correctness went out the window.

"I don't think that. Hell, I don't even know what's going on. I mean, I knew you guys were fighting because the Kid was so grumpy. I didn't realize it was this bad. What happened?"

"I'd really not rather go through this again," I hiccuped. "Do you know how many times I played those scenes over in my head? How many countless ways I tried to reason through what happened and what I should do about it? My brain's going to explode—that's how many times. So please, don't make me relive it. Don't make me talk about it."

He nodded. "Fair enough. I think the second period's going to start."

I wiped my face again and pulled my cap down over my eyes. "Ugh. That stupid bitch is going to know something's wrong."

"What?"

"Lynne. She's always on my case, and if I show up back to my seat and she sees I've been crying, she'll know for sure that something's up between me and Sid." He still looked confused. "You aren't the only one who noticed I'm wearing twenty-five tonight instead of eighty-seven."

"Well, why don't you watch from the suite? At least until you calm down."

"But aren't Mario and Nathalie in there? I don't want them to see me upset, either."

Max wrapped an arm around my shoulders and started to lead me into the box. "Once the game starts up again, they won't even know you exist. They're Lemieuxs, after all."

I laughed and let him take control of me. After the past week, it was nice to let someone handle things. He sat me in a chair and handed me a beer. Mario and Nathalie noticed my entrance and said hello. I waved and told them how nice it was to see them again and thanked them for letting me gatecrash. As I talked, I kept my face down and let the brim of the cap hide my eyes. On the plus side, I wouldn't have to see Véro and Kelsey and defend my decision again.

I turned to look at my savior, now sitting beside me with his own beer. I loved hanging out with Sid's teammates, but Max was by far my favorite of the Pens, player-wise and friend-wise. He was nothing but caring and considerate from the moment I met him. "How is it you don't have a girl of your own, Max?"

He looked at me with wide eyes. "Where is this coming from? You sound just like my mother, if my mother spoke English."

"No, I mean it. You're such a nice guy. I don't know how you're still single."

He shrugged. "I guess it's going to take one hell of a girl to make me settle down."

I laughed and diverted my attention to the ice. Once the game started, we all followed the puck and didn't talk. It was a nice reprieve to concentrate on the game. The Penguins left the dressing room and skated onto the ice with fresh determination in the second period. Sidney especially looked particularly motivated, and I knew he was going to do something special tonight.

I was right—he was amazing. I've seen his puck-handling skills; I knew how good he was. But as the defenders surrounded him, I couldn't believe how he protected the puck and spun around those chumps. He passed the puck to himself by hitting it against the boards and doing a 180, completely blowing away those so-called pro hockey players. He came around the net and shot the puck with a flick of his wrist, which the goalie deflected but did not scoop up. Crosby then got his own rebound and shot it again, going five hole.

"Holy shit," I cried, jumping out of my seat. "Did I really just see that?"

Max laughed at me, still in his seat beside me. "There's a reason he's been dubbed 'The Next One.'"

"I know, but that was... magical. That was highlight-reel material! I mean, moreso than usual!"

He laughed again, and so did the Lemieuxs. I felt so foolish, so I sat back down and blushed.

The rest of the team seemed to be spurred on by Crosby's enthusiasm. By the middle of the third, the Pens were up 5-2 over the Panthers, so I decided to leave. I knew the team was going to win, so I decided I would use the time to prepare my speech before seeing Sidney. I squeezed Max's arm as I stood. "Thanks a lot, Max. I'm going to head out."

"Hey," he responded, grabbing my hand in his. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm going to say it anyway because you need to listen. This week when you two have been apart, you've been miserable and so has he. That's all you need to know."

I nodded to him and said my goodbyes to the Lemieuxs. They didn't seem to notice I was leaving because they were so engrossed in the game. I smiled to myself at how entranced they were by the dancing puck on the ice.

I drove to Sidney's with Daughtry playing on my stereo and let myself in. I couldn't wait anymore; I had to get this over with. Max was totally correct: I was miserable stuck in this purgatory between with-Sidney-heaven and without-Sidney-hell. Now, I only had to wait for him to come home and see if we could some up with some bargain. It wasn't going to be easy, but it was worth a try. The lyrics from the song rang in my ear:

If I could see the future and how this plays out
I bet it's better than where we are now

It was foolish of me to rush over, considering by the time the game ended and Sidney did his interviews, showered, and dressed, he wouldn't be home for at least another hour. Not to mention he'd go out with his teammates to celebrate. He was on fire tonight; surely he'd want to go out and have a good time, regardless of the fact that he'd have to play tomorrow night. The way he was playing, I knew Sid wasn't affected by my absence at all.

I closed my eyes and sat Indian-style on the couch in the darkness of his living room. I didn't bother turning on any lights. He'd see my car in the driveway and know I was here. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the couch and thought about what I had planned to say to him.

I've practiced this for hours, gone round and round
And now I think that I've got it all down
And as I say it louder I love how it sounds
Cause I'm not taking the easy way out
Not wrapping this in ribbons
Shouldn't have to give a reason why

It wasn't even midnight when I saw his headlights pull in. This was it.

Keys jingled and he unlocked the front door. "Nelly?"

I stood and turned my body to face him, as if preparing for battle. It was awkward to see him again because I missed him, even though I hadn't wanted to. I didn't realize how desperately I had missed him until I saw him before me, and my stomach knotted. "I didn't expect you to be here so soon. I thought you'd be out with the guys."

Sidney frowned and shook his head. "I didn't feel like it." He turned on the overhead light but didn't budge from that position. I could tell he was giving me my space and waiting for me to make the first move.

"Good game tonight."

"Oh, did you see it?"

I blushed. "I was there."

He tilted his head, perplexed. "Really?"

"Yeah, V persuaded me to come and I guess Marc got the ticket for me. You were really something else tonight," I gushed.

He shrugged, not in modesty, but because he wanted to change the subject. "I don't think you're here to talk about the game." He slid off his suit jacket, threw it over the chair, untucked his dress shirt, and loosened his tie. Then he sat down. I bit my lip, half because I was nervous, half because he looked so sexy like that. I didn't want to talk or bargain with him; I just wanted to run into his arms and be with him.

"Yeah, um, obviously," I replied, suddenly tongue-twisted. I had to look away in order to remember what I had planned to say. "So, I did a lot of thinking, and I decided that you were right—"

"Wait," he said, holding up his hand with a smile on his face. "You're saying I'm right? Maybe I should get a tape-recorder and make you repeat that."

Despite myself, I chuckled. "Too late, because you'll never hear me say that again." He laughed, and I was glad that he was making this easier on me. The tension in the room lifted, but only a little. "I mean, you're right in that we should talk about this with a level head, and see if we can reach a consensus. If we can, then, well, good. If not...." I trailed off and let him think about that.

Sidney took a deep breath. "Okay. So, what do you have in mind?"

I shook my head. "No. You're the one who wouldn't cave to my demands," I reminded him. "I want to hear what your idea of what this compromise would be."

"Only if you don't flip out before I can finish and fully explain?" I nodded, and he continued. "Okay, I thought if I promised to cut down on the presents and expensive surprises, you could promise to keep the credit card with you and use it for what I call 'boyfriend-related' expenses."

He paused, and I thought he was finished. I opened my mouth to rebut, but he cut me off. "I know you. I know you budget your money. I know how anal-retentive you are about sticking to it, because you're anal about everything. And I know you do it because you're trying to pay off your student loans in a ridiculously short amount of time. You've got a plan, and there is no way on this earth I want to interfere with that.

"Nelly, I want to be a part of your plan, and that is why I'm offering to help in such a small way. You're the one who puts up with all the traveling to come see me because of my hectic schedule. This is my compensation. Because I know that if you couldn't afford to come out and visit me, then you wouldn't. And if you don't visit me and I don't get to see you, then I'd be heartbroken. So, you see, I'm doing this for me, and not for you at all."

When he stopped, he looked at me with a satisfied and proud grin. For a moment, I thought about forgetting this little discussion and jumping into his arms, just from seeing that smile on his face. It made me melt, but I tried to focus on the task at hand.

"What do you consider 'boyfriend-related' expenses?"

Sidney smiled again, and he knew I was slowly beginning to acquiesce. If I was willing to listen instead of flip out on him and say no, then we were headed in the right direction. "Well, like I said, I know you budget your money, so I thought that if you were going overbudget on gas, or if I ran up your phone bill because I use up all your minutes, you could use the card. To me, that seems fair."

That didn't seem so bad. I was not a phone person; I had been wasting all my minutes until I found someone to talk to, anyway. So all I would need to do is charge a tank of gas here and there? I nodded. "I suppose that's reasonable."

His confidence shot up. "I figured you could use it to purchase things for the house, too. You know I don't keep my shelves stocked. I can't cook, and I don't know what you like to eat anyway." Sid's eyes widened. "And you can buy that conditioner I like so much! It makes your hair smell so good, and it really made my hair feel soft. I tried smelling some bottles at the store, but I couldn't figure out what it was."

I couldn't help it, I burst into laughter. He was so damn adorable. Still, I tried to refocus. We weren't done yet. "Okay, don't push your luck. I think I can hold up my end of the bargain. But what about you? What do you mean by 'cut down' on the presents?"

"Well, I'm not going to stop completely. I just can't do that. But I do promise that I won't overdo it. You know, I just can't help it. I want to give you the world, Nelly, so I don't think twice when something reminds me of you, or I want to do something nice for you."

I blushed. "If I tell you it makes me uncomfortable, though, you'd have to stop. I know that it doesn't bother you, but it makes me feel like I'm taking advantage of you, even though I know that's not the case and you do it because you want to. Honestly, Sid, it's about getting to spend time with you, not what we do in that time or what you give me. It's about you."

He nodded. "I know. It's because you're so unassuming and un-, um, undemanding?" He laughed. "Is that even a word?" I shrugged and laughed with him. "But those things don't matter to you, so I don't mind giving them to you." Deep breath. "So, what do you think? Can you live with these terms?"

"I think you have presented a logical and valid argument that I consent to. However, I have a few stipulations I would like to add to our agreement that you must do for me." His face fell, and I laughed internally. Sid was so worried. "First, I know you're busy, but you're going to have to find some time to hang out with me and my friends sometime soon. This is non-negotiable."

The goofy grin returned. "I'll check my calendar. I look forward to it."

"Good."

"Is that it?"

"No, one more. This one is just as important. Thanksgiving."

"What about it?" he asked. "That was two weeks ago."

"Not your Thanksgiving, my Thanksgiving. Next month." I took a deep breath.

It came out like a river once I let it out
When I thought that I wouldn't know how
Held onto it forever just pushing it down
Felt so good to let go of it now
Not wrapping this in ribbons
Shouldn't have to give a reason why

And then I told him, "I want you to come spend the holiday with me, in my home, and meet my family."

I waited for his reaction. In my head, I knew that I had already met his parents and his sister, but this was a huge step for me. It took me days to decide to meet the Crosby family. Would he have to consider it, too?

"Is that it? Are those all your stipulations?"

"Yes." I closed my eyes and waited to hear him agree or disagree. Instead, I felt his arms crush my body into his and my feet leave the floor.

"Thank God. Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!" He laughed, and I covered him with kisses. Things weren't perfect, but right now, they felt better than ever. It felt so good to be back where I belonged. His lips found mine, and I simultaneously felt like it had been both forever since I'd kissed him and like no time had passed at all between the last time we embraced.

The warm embrace that no one knows.

Sid deepened the kiss, and as much as I enjoyed it, I pulled away. "What's wrong?"

"I can't—"

"It's okay, I didn't expect things to go back to the way they were right away. As long as you're with me, I don't care what we do."

I smiled. "That's nice to know, Crosby, but I was just going to tell you it's that time of the month."

He laughed. Those dark chocolate eyes peered into mine and I turned to mush. "I love you."

I felt the way I was supposed to feel after hearing those words. Warmth washed over my body and my insides smiled. Even so, I was haunted by the question in the back of my head: did I love him back?

I opened my mouth to speak, but he pressed his lips to mine again to shut me up. "I meant what I said before. You don't need to say it back until you feel it, too. So don't ruin the moment by analyzing anything or making excuses."

But after going through this, it's easier to see the reason why.

I kept my mouth clamped shut. I guess I could wait for another time to tell Sidney that I loved him, too.

39: A Change in Perspective/Realize

I was getting frustrated. I know I'm stubborn, but that isn't always a bad thing. It got me to where I am today. Why should I start changing now?

Things have always been in my control. Through hard work and determination, I decided where my life was going to go. Sure, some things were ordained by higher powers and chosen by others, but generally speaking, I had the authority to command my fate.

That's why this was so unbearable. I was placing my happiness and my heart into someone else's hands. It's just a bunch of waiting around, hoping that someone would stop putzing around and see exactly what I see: we've got a good thing going here and there's no need to ruin it.



I had such high hopes for Sunday. When Talbo and I talked after the first preseason game, he told me everything he had learned about her. Maybe I shouldn't have sent a spy to learn more about her, but I was way out of my league. I was so focused on hockey that I didn't have the experience the other guys had about snagging chicks. Hell, they threw themselves at me, so I had no idea how to go about pursuing someone. He told me that her family loved football, I knew I'd take her to a game. I'd become a Steelers fan ever since moving to Pittsburgh, and showing up to a game would be a great way to repay some of the Steelers for their support during our Stanley Cup run.

The whole day had been planned out. I bought her the jersey on Thursday, and I figured she'd appreciate wearing the number of someone a little less well known, but who was still a vital piece of the team. Just like she liked Talbo. We'd eat and then head to the game, where I'd surprise her by taking her up to the box. Then we'd go out for dinner before having to indefinitely say goodbye.

Too bad we never got out the door. I was floored when she left. I begged her to stay, but I was too stunned for words. I couldn't stay at home alone, so I went over to TK's for the distraction, but as soon as I got there, the girls practically attacked me and asked me where Nelly was. At least the guys knew I was in a mood and they left me alone. When Véro and Kelsey couldn't get an answer out of me, they left, and I knew they were calling her to see what was up. This was just a stupid fight, what were they making such a big deal out of it for? Couples fight all the time.

I knew that giving her that credit card would be a tricky situation. I received the card in the mail two weeks before I could even think about giving it to her, after she finally agreed to be my girlfriend. The timing just seemed right. But I didn't realize why this was such a big deal to her. I knew she liked her independence, but I didn't realize she'd had it so rough growing up. She should have just explained that in the first place.

I didn't want to push her when she was angry. When she left, I didn't try calling her. I had a lot to think about, too, and I didn't want to put pressure on her and have her run away again. The only way to solve the problem was to talk about it, so she can't just run away when she's angry with me. When Flower said she was at my house, I just knew I had to be there. Now she chooses to use my key? She's such a mystery to me.

Of course she's a puzzle. She was so different. She knew who I was, but she didn't hit on me, she didn't return my advances, but she didn't clam up. She was always the same person. I'd never met a girl who could keep her wits about herself when she was near me. That must sound so conceited, but it's the awful truth.

If any of the guys had been there when Nelly and I first met, they would have teased me mercilessly for the way I was throwing myself at her, offering my autograph or taking a picture with her. She was so refreshingly unimpressed, turning me down with a look in her eyes like she pitied me. When I spotted her at Diesel, I knew it was destiny, that I was supposed to have met her. I can't screw this up now.

I was a little pissed that Flower didn't tell me straight out what was going on before practice, but I found out, and that's what matters. He says he called after me to stop, but I never heard him. I could only concentrate on getting home, getting to her, and trying to convince her that I was sorry and I was willing to find a compromise. Even though I thought she was wrong, I was willing to find common ground to keep her in my life.

It was surprising to find her packing her stuff. That's when it hit me: she didn't think we were fighting. This was make or break for her. I don't know why she was willing to give up on this so easily. She tried to get rid of me, but I couldn't let her leave without talking to her, persuading her to at least listen. I was relieved when she said she'd wait to talk to me after practice. I couldn't let her end things. The next hour and a half was painful, trying to concentrate on the drills when I was too impatient to focus.

The locker room was so quiet. I don't know how all the guys found out what was going on so quickly, but they knew better to joke about it, like they usually did when I was thinking about Nelly. They never said anything demeaning or cruel, but they just loved to rag on me for any reason, and girls were a favorite subject of theirs. They wouldn't have done it if they realized just how much I cared about her.

Not knowing what's going through her head is killing me. I kept replaying our conversation over and over in my head. We both said we were sorry, and we both accepted the blame for Sunday! We didn't break up, but we're not together. Girls. No wonder my dad preferred I stay single. But I know she's worth the trouble.

She said she wanted space, she needed time. How much time did she need? I was glad for Tuesday's game against the Blues, because I needed to think about something else. I didn't know how well I'd do while still being so worried about Nelly, but I made it through. It could have been worse.

I was going stir-crazy on Wednesday. I went to practice at Southpointe and I exhausted myself, trying to concentrate on the physical and forget the mental. But afterward, I couldn't just sit at home and wait for her to make up her mind—and I couldn't join the guys going out for a drink either. I was a pathetic, useless lump. Finally deciding to take control of my life again, I drove to see her. Colbie Caillat was playing on the radio, and I sang along to "Realize." If the guys could hear me, I'd never hear the end of it. But isn't it funny how sometimes you find songs that perfectly convey your feelings?

As I passed her house, I saw that her car wasn't in the driveway. Then it hit me that I probably didn't know where she was if she wasn't at home. I knew so little about her; I didn't know where she worked, where she liked to hang out, and what she would be doing with her spare time. One thing popped into my head, and I recalled the route from my trip in August.

Of course she was at the courts. Whenever I had too much on my mind, I took it out on my body and hit the ice or the gym. This was her equivalent.

Nelly was dressed in baggy sweats and was really pushing herself. The other players on the court were talking to one another rather than working out, in contrast to her efforts. Every once in a while, she'd swing her racket so hard that she'd grunt. I hung back and just watched her fluid movements. She didn't play like this when I had played with her. This wasn't for fun. She was trying to work herself so hard that her mind would stop working. I recognized that drive in her.

I showed up with full intentions of forcing an answer out of her, and when I say force an answer, I mean get her to tell me she planned on sticking with me. Instead, I saw that she was struggling with this just as much as I was. Every day that she had trouble deciding to end our relationship was another day closer to her realizing that she couldn't end it. If she was truly furious with me, she would have thrown me to the curb on Monday at the Iceoplex.

She paused for a moment between volleys. Her eyes were closed and she was taking a deep breath. It reminded me of the way she would inhale when I held her in my arms, revelling in the scent of my cologne. For a second, I was worried she would look for me, knowing that I was there with her. But Nelly turned back to the court, and I relaxed. She wouldn't catch me.

The racket was an extension of her arm, and she had complete control of the movements of the ball. I guess it was the tennis equivalent of puck-handling skills. I was hypnotized by how she worked. The ball never got passed her, even when her shot would go wide. She'd run to it and stop it, even if she couldn't return it.

I left, not wanting another close call of her catching her watching me. I knew she'd probably be pissed if she knew I wasn't giving her the space she requested. She said she needed time, and now that I knew she was unable to tell me no, she could have all the time and space she needs. Eventually, she'd be back. She was still mine.

38: Thinking It Through

I truly love you guys.

FYI, to those of you devoted few who specifically check back for updates, they're scheduled to automatically publish at seven in the evening, eastern standard time. And ha, I don't have a life. I prefer the one I construct with my pen.

In honor of Noelle's missed Steeler game:


And now onto your regularly scheduled post....



When I got home after my awkward confrontation with Sid, I crawled right into bed. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. I fell right to sleep, and only woke up when my mother entered my room. Her work day ran from 7:30 to 3:30, so she was always home in the afternoon before my work day ended at 5.

"Hey, sweetie, what are you doing home?"

"I took the day off work," I answered, rolling over so my back was to her. I didn't want her to see me.

"Are you sick? You've haven't been yourself lately."

I started to cry, and lied, "I'm fine."

She sat on the edge of my bed and rubbed my back. "Do you want to talk about it? Is this about the boy you've been seeing?"

I rolled back over. "You know about him?"

My mom rolled her eyes in a loving manner. "Of course, pumpkin. I was your age once, I knew what was going on. Staying out all weekend, coming home in someone else's clothes. Mind you, not that I did those things, but I can see the signs. I may be old, but I'm not senile. Not yet, anyway."

"Oh, Mom. I just don't know what to do. We had a big fight, and I don't know if it's worth it to get back together with him. I'm miserable without him, but I don't know if I can get past our problem and compromise."

"Every relationship requires a little give and take. If you really like him, you should give it a shot. If you don't mind me asking, what's the problem?"

Here we go again. "He makes more money than I do, and he insists on treating me. I tried telling him no, but he didn't listen and he just went ahead and did it anyway. Then we both said things we didn't mean. He's just refusing to back down on this issue, and he said he wants to find a compromise."

"And what would that involve?"

"I don't know. We didn't get that far. I told him I had to think about it."

"What do you have to think about if you don't even know what you're supposed to be thinking about? That came out all wrong. If you don't know what the compromise is going to be, how can you think about it?"

"Well, I don't even know if this is something I want to try to figure out with him. Am I supposed to put a price tag on myself? Like some kind of whore?"

"That's what you need to talk to him about. Relationships are hard work, and it can feel like a struggle sometimes. But the good times more than make up for the bad."

"I thought that if it were meant to be, it would be easy."

She laughed. "No, it's just that it seems that way to everyone else."

I recalled what Véro had said to me earlier. She had made it seem like things just fell into place for us. Then again, I thought the same thing just three days.

My mother continued. "Do you care about him?"

"Yes. A lot."

"Do you love him?" I didn't respond. I didn't know how to. To my mother, my hesitation proved answer enough. "If you love him, you know you have to give it a shot."

"I never said I—"

"You don't have to say. A mother knows. He makes you happy. All I ever want for you is to be happy. Don't be so quick to give up on him. You still have a lot to think about."

I rolled back over. I wasn't tired anymore, but I was still clueless. Why couldn't someone just tell me what to do? Should I stay with him because it felt so good when we were together, or should I tell him it's over and avoid the pain and heartache that our relationship would inevitably cause me?

"If you decide to keep him around," she said, standing up, "I want to meet him. Hell," she giggled, "I want to meet him even if you don't. I'd love to meet the man that won my daughter's heart."

"You already know him, Mom," I said. "Kind of, anyway."

"Really? Who is he?"

"Sidney Crosby."

"The hockey player?" I nodded. I wasn't sure if she believed me or not. "Well, that explains the amount of hockey games you've been to this year. It's a good thing I gave you my advice before you told me that."

"Why? Would that have changed what you said to me?"

"Yes. I would have told you first that I wanted to meet him. Have you seen his behind?"

Leave it to my mother to crush on my boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend?

I laughed. "Yes, I have in fact seen his behind. And I can assure you, it looks just as nice in person as it does on TV."

My mom patted my back and left the room. "Just don't stay in bed all day, or you'll never to sleep tonight."

Sitting up, I realized that my mother had a point. I should have found out what the compromise would be before I told him I needed time to think. How much was he expecting me to give, and how much was he expecting me to take? I kicked myself for not thinking about that earlier in the day. I supposed, however, I should figure that out for myself before talking to him again.

How much of myself did I want to sacrifice in order to get a shot at happiness?

The rational part of my brain kicked in. Make a list of pros and cons. What was so great about Sidney that I should give him another chance? Well, I'll start with the obvious:

-He's hot. So what if this is a little superficial? Before I met him or knew anything about him, that was the first thing I noticed about him. Soft curly hair, soulful brown eyes, those pouty pink lips. A gorgeous smile. His body. Okay, time to think about something else....

-He's one of the best hockey players in the world, if not the single best player. He's talented, but it was his hard work and determination that got him to where he is today. That work ethic is just as sexy as his body. Stop thinking about his body, Noelle....

-The sex. Damn it! I was trying not to think about these things. Think about qualities, not physical things!

-He's considerate. He knew how to anticipate my thoughts and feelings, and he was (mostly) so accommodating. I said so many times that he was close to perfect as humanly possible. We all make mistakes, and he was just frustrated that day. I can be exasperating, so I can't really hold that against him.

-And he does charity work. Between the games, practices, and interviews, he participated in Project Bundle-Up, delivered tickets to the season ticket holders, and sponsored the Little Penguins "Learn to Play Hockey" program with Reebok.

-He was great with his family. And great with the little kids asking for his autograph. Guy who are great with kids are walking aphrodisiacs.

-He calms me down in ways I don't understand, but in ways that I need. When I'm with him, I'm relaxed and laid-back. I'm so high strung that I need that in my life.

-The way he calls me "Nelly." It makes me melt every time he says it. And he only calls me that when no one else is around, like it's our own personal, secret code.

-He makes me feel good about myself. I feel cared for, and beautiful, too. He makes me laugh. And I love making him laugh, even when it's that contagious high-pitched cackle. When I'm around him, I think I can do anything.

-He likes me. That's a very important quality for him to have. He loves me, actually. When I think about it, I feel kind of lightheaded. I can't breathe.

Alright, so obviously he has a lot of good qualities. I didn't even list them all. Now let's move onto the bad things:

-He's rich. Well, that's not the bad part. But he wants to spend that money on me. Most people would be okay with that, but I'm not most people. My friends would think I'm crazy. Hell, who doesn't think I'm crazy at this point? Maybe I am blowing this out of proportion....

-He was the face of the NHL. Again, not the bad part, but he had a lot of responsibility to give a part of himself to the media. It was just as much a part of his job as being captain was. And I had to share a little of that spotlight. I had a little taste of that, and the intrusion into my life was less than pleasant. This wasn't something that was just going to go away; as long as he played hockey, which would hopefully be for a long time, he'd be the poster boy for the league.

-He was stubborn. Maybe I shouldn't hold it against him, since I was bullheaded, too, but there's only so much room obstinacy in one relationship.

-If I agreed to keep seeing him, I'd be seeing more of Lynne. Stupid bitch. Not his fault exactly, but I still counted it against him.

What else? Damn, why was it so hard to think of his bad qualities?

After trying to be rational, I thought about how I felt—not just about him, but about the entire situation, too. Sidney meant a lot to me. He was so good to me, so good for me. I was devastated when he lashed out at me. Like my heart had been ripped out. Was I making too big of a deal out of this? I had accepted my part in the shouting match. I didn't know which was worse: the broken heart or the wounded pride.

I couldn't think about it anymore. Thinking about it was only going to drive me nuts. I finished reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and then moved on to World War Z. Zombies were the new vampires in popular fiction, and they were all the rage.

By ten, I was in bed, knowing I needed a lot of rest before having to go to work in the morning. When I showed up at the office, my coworkers asked how I was. "Are you still sick? Because you look like hell."

"Thanks a lot, Steve. You're so nice to me."

"Seriously, if you need another day off, take it. You're no good to me if you can't concentrate on your work."

"I'm fine, I promise. I need to concentrate on something."

"Well, great to hear. Because I have three cases due this week, and if you could take one over for me, I'd owe you big time."

I sighed. "You know I'm still new to this position. I don't know if I can handle it."

"I'll tell you exactly what you need to do."

In the end, I agreed, and navigating through the case file proved distracting. Instead of researching and writing summaries and descriptions, I was actually working on a case under prosecution. It deserved my full attention, and I did my best to avoid looking at my desktop screen saver, which was still that picture of me and Sid, on the night that started it all. After the boss and I reviewed the case, he dismissed everything Steve had told me. What started out as a simple assignment blew out of proportion, and I found myself having to redo the argument and start from scratch, with two days to complete the revisions.

When I got home, I automatically tuned into the Pens game against St. Louis. After the tiring day I had arguing with the boss, it never occurred to me that I shouldn't be watching the game. I had successfully gotten through the day without dwelling on him and our fight. The first period went well. Crosby wasn't on fire, but he wasn't slacking either. A part of me wanted him to have an off-game, just to know that this was affecting him the way it was affecting me, too; the Pens fan in me hated myself for that.

Halfway through the game, I turned it off. I sat in bed and read my book, but I couldn't concentrate and just decided to go to bed. Of course, I couldn't sleep either. Tossing and turning, I tried counting sleep or imagining a white wall. To compensate, I popped a couple Benadryls and eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Wednesday was a repeat at work, drafting an argument, reviewing it was the boss, and walking back to my desk feeling frustrated and pissed off when he rejected it. Instead of offering guidance and suggestions or ways I could improve the argument, he just pointed out all the faults and holes. How was I supposed to get better without help? Steve was working on his own cases and couldn't assist me.

I was so frustrated that by the end of the day, I went to the tennis courts. It was a brisk, cool October day, but I moved around enough to keep warm. I smashed the balls against the wall, hitting the equivalent of cross-court shots to myself in order to keep my legs moving. Sweat started to run down my face, and I pushed myself until my arms turned to jelly and I couldn't swing the racket anymore. I thought about my shitty job and what I should do about Sid.

The other players on the neighboring courts were dressed in Hollister hoodies, Adidas pants, and Nike running shoes. They weren't even breaking a sweat. I didn't fit in with them, but I kept throwing my body into my shots, the occasional grunt escaping my lips. Even when a shot went wide and I knew I couldn't return it, I ran after the ball. I couldn't stop moving, or else my brain would take over.

For a moment, when I missed a shot and paused for a second before beginning my next volley, I thought I smelled Sidney's cologne. The wind stopped blowing and the scent faded away, and I hit the ball again.

By the time Thursday came around, I filed my case and spent the evening trying to reason through my Sidney dilemma. I really needed Eva, but she still didn't call me back. My mom was pushing me in the direction of giving the relationship another try. "What's the big deal? If things don't work out, you're no better off than you are now, and at least you'll have had some fun along the way." I appreciated her advice, but I didn't think she was the best person for me to listen to. I didn't tell her that, because you can't really tell your mother that your one aspiration is to not be like her. At least Sidney respected my request and was giving me space and time, just like I'd asked him.

What am I going to do?