I turned off the T.V.
With a groan, I got up and stretched, looking for something to entertain myself with. Clock radio? I turned it on, scanning for a good song. Not much out there. Hey, Pearl Jam! I left it there and started to dig through my bag for my book. I had started to read those Lord of the Ring books just 'cause I figured it would kill a lot of time. The Hobbit had dragged, but The Fellowship of the Ring was a little better. I was in the middle of that now. I settled back on the bed, flipping on a lamp to read. The song on the radio, Daughter, was ending, but this was one of those 'Block Party' weekends, they informed me, and started spinning 'Given to Fly.' Jeff's favorite song.
I turned off the radio.
I grabbed my bag again, this time digging around for my discman and finding it successfully. I'd just listen to my new Tool CD, I decided. I turned it up loud enough to permanantly damage my hearing and slid on the headphones.
"This should be an entertainin' evenin'," I muttered to myself, dryly. Back to Rivendell with Tool.
I had just finally lost myself in the book and music when there was a pounding on my door. I didn't notice it at first 'cause the music was too loud, but when the music got quieter, I heard it. I jumped up, surprised, and slid the headphones off my head, going to the door.
"Open up, Matt! C'mon! Let me in!"
I began to wonder how long Jay'd been knocking. From the way he was knocking, it must have been something important. My mind ran through the possibilities. Something happened to Jeff. Something happened to Adam. Something happened to Adam and Jeff.
I opened the door, and blinked at Jay. He gave me a brief once over, noticing the blank look, the headphones around my neck, the book in my hand, the relaxed attire - board shorts and an old Hardyz shirt - then shoved past me without a word and grabbed the remote from the end of the bed.
"Can you believe it?" he asked, incredulous, as he flipped on the T.V. "Game six, Toronto in the playoffs, and Adam and Jeff kick me out! Thanks for letting me watch with you."
"I... ah..." I stuttered, still standing at the door. Jay laid on his stomach on my bed, facing the T.V. and making himself comfortable.
"Not my fault Adam's stupid Devils got beat in the first series. All of a sudden he doesn't care about hockey anymore?"
"Well, I..."
"You know it gets bad when Adam chooses Jeff over hockey," Jay groaned, kicking off his sandals, then started yelling at the T.V. "No! What the hell?! Get the puck out of there! No! Yes! Sweet save!"
Jay was going a mile a minute, but eventually slowed and started muttering at the game. I finally shut my gaping jaw and crossed over to sit on the end of the bed next to him. Well, I guess it was better than sitting alone. At least this was company. And he seemed to feel the same way about Adam that I was currently feeling about Jeff.
"So, Jay -"
"Not during the game, kid." Jay cut me off abruptly, patting my knee distractedly. I rolled my eyes at him with a smile. Ok, not the same as Jeff, but still, it was better than being alone.
After a few moments, the action stopped on the ice so I tried speaking to him again. I mean, if I was going to watch ice hockey, I might as well know what was going on. "What quarter is this?"
"Period."
"What?"
"Not quarters, periods. There's three of them. This is the end of the second."
"Oh."
"You don't like hockey?" Jay asked, still distracted.
"Oh, it's fine, it's just..."
"Not football, huh?"
I smiled. "Football is straightforward. Football's excitin'."
"Typical American. This isn't exciting?" Jay asked, pointing at the screen. There were two ice hockey players beating the crap out of each other.
"I think that falls under the 'not straightforward' catagory. Shouldn't the refs stop them?"
"They will, eventually." Jay shrugged. "And not straightforward? What the hell is a 'down' anyway?"
"It's when the ball -"
"Not during the game," Jay cut me off again as the players lined up on the ice and started again. Back and forth across the rink. Hitting the puck. Hitting each other. Hitting the walls. It just seemed so random. And no one ever scored anything. Just back and forth. And Jay yelling or muttering cryptic comments.
"Who are the teams?" I asked suddenly.
"Leafs and 'Canes," Jay answered, not taking his eyes off the game.
"Come again?"
Jay sighed and started again in a condescending tone, "The Toronto Maple Leafs and the Carolina Hurricanes."
"Carolina? We have an ice hockey team?"
"It's not 'ice hockey,' it's hockey."
"Um..."
"And, yeah, those chumpstains in the red are from Raleigh."
"Really?" I asked, perking up. "Who's winnin'?"
"Tied, zero-zero," Jay answered, getting into the game. The action was moving towards the goalie in the red and Jay sat up higher, propping himself up on his elbows. "Go! Go! No! Hey! Cheap shot! Roughing!"
I laughed slightly as he yelled at the T.V. The puck went back to the other side of the rink, but a whistle blew and everyone stopped.
"What's that?"
"Sundin got checked. Shoulda been roughing, but they didn't call it."
"Why'd they stop?"
"Icing."
"Icin'?"
Jay sighed. "O'Neill hit the puck from his defensive blue line and it went all the way past Cujo without anyone touching it."
"What?" I asked again, confused.
"See that guy there?" He asked, slightly annoyed, pointing to a guy in a red and white jersey that the camera was focusing on now. He had an ugly black eye and wasn't looking too happy.
"Yeah."
"O'Neill. He's a Hurricane. He hit the puck to get it away from Irbe..." he stopped, noticing my blank look out of the corner of his eye. "...Irbe's the goalie for Carolina... to get it away from Irbe's crease in a desperation move, but no one stopped it. It just sailed past that line by Toronto's goal. If it crosses from the far blue line past the opposite goal, it's icing."
"Oh." I said, not understaning half that. "Now what?"
"A face off. Sundin and... O'Neill, I think, will try to knock the puck to their guys."
"Who's Sundin?"
"Who's Sundin?!" Jay repeated, finally turning to me, incredulous. "Who's Sundin? Mats Sundin, the captain of the Maple Leafs! Just back, fresh of an injury, ready to play for the Stanley Cup!"
"Number thirteen would have sufficed," I muttered, noticing him skate up across O'Neill. Jay rolled his eyes at me again, going back to the game.
A couple more seconds passed, then a buzzer sounded. "What's that?"
"Intermission," Jay answered, laying down flat on his stomach and closing his eyes.
"Intermission?"
"Haven't you ever watched hockey before?" Jay asked, rolling on his side to look at me.
"Um..."
"Jesus..." He groaned, obviously annoyed.
"A couple times! Hey, I didn't say t' come here t' watch the game," I shrugged. Jay sighed, rolling onto his back, and leaned his head back to watch the 'Intermission Report' upside down. I watched him for a minute, then added. "I guess you're just goin' t' have t' explain it t' me."
"Ok," Jay said, shrugging and looking back at me. "You know what a playoff series is?"
"Like in baseball?"
"You like baseball?"
"Nah, Jeff does."
"Shoulda figured. Yeah, like in baseball. Best of seven series. This is game six. Carolina has three, Toronto, two."
"So if Carolina wins this game they win it all?" I asked, innocently.
"Well, first, Carolina's not going to win. And second, no. This is still the playoffs. The Stanley Cup series is after this. Whoever wins this series goes on to play the winners of the Western Conference playoffs. For the cup."
"Oh." Despite my questions, that meant nothing to me.
"Yeah. Basically, the object is to get the puck in the goal. But Cujo's insane, so Carolina doesn't stand a chance."
"Cujo?"
Jay gave me that death glare that told me I should have know what 'Cujo' is.
"Curtis Joseph? Toronto's killer goalie? He has fifteen playoff shut outs. This could very well be sixteen."
"Shut out?"
"He doesn't let any pucks past him. Like a shut out in baseball - no points."
"Oh. Well, Carolina must be pretty good, too, if they got this far."
Jay gave me a dirty look. I just grinned and got up to sit at the top of my bed again, with my book, trying to finish the chapter. I set down my discman, set the headphones on my shoulders and turned the music down low. We didn't speak for a while, Jay rolling back over to watch the quiet intermission report and me reading. Again, not the same as with Jeff. Maybe that was a good thing. I didn't really want a replacement for Jeff, just another friend. Why hadn't I thought to start talking to Jay a while ago? It made a lot of sense. I realized I'd been staring at him and went back to my book with a quiet sigh.
"Got anything to eat?"
I looked up, surprised. He must have looked to me just as I looked away. I shook my head no, watching him blankly. That was random. He frowned slightly, started digging around in his pocket, producing a piece of gum. He looked at it, shortly, then over his shoulder to me again. "Want half?"
"How long's that been in y' pocket?"
Instead of answering, he just shrugged and ripped it in half, holding some out to me. I took it, half smiling. Jay had never seemed as approachable as Adam, but I knew from how Adam was that Jay must have been a good guy. I knew he was funny as hell. Despite hockey prejudices, we seemed to be getting along pretty well, I thought. It seemed that we had something in common - Adam and Jeff. He hadn't said it directly, but from his earlier comments, I thought that maybe he was feeling like a third wheel, too. I wondered if Adam was treating him like Jeff was treating me.
"What are you listening to?"
Again, he startled me. "Tool. Y' like Tool?"
"S'ok. The new album? Is it any good?"
"I like it. Want t' listen?"
"Nah..." he shugged and turned back to the T.V. Yeah, he was random. I smiled. I got the feeling that maybe spending freetime with Jay might be pretty entertaining. After a bit, the game came back on. I pretended to still be reading my book, but it was getting kind of slow and I didn't want to waste time I could be spending to make a new friend. Jay, however, was completely oblivious to me when the game came back. He would yell at the T.V. a lot. I tried to pick up some of what was going on. Apparantly, 'Cujo' had made a 'glorious' save. That made Jay happy. I finally set down the book, grabbed the two pillows, crawled back down the bed to sit by Jay, and offered him one. "How's it goin'?"
"Still tied at zero," he said, taking the pillow from me with a quick smile and propped himself up with it.
"So is our goalie as good as Cujo, then, or does Toronto's offense just suck?"
Jay's jaw dropped as he turned to look at me. "Excuse me?"
"I said -"
"Don't," Jay warned, severely. I grinned.
"Huh, guess their defense isn't so great, either," I added, pointing at the T.V. They were replaying a goal scored by the Carolina player Jay had pointed out to me earlier.
"What the...?! Dammit! No!"
I grinned as Jay threw a small tantrum, slightly reminiscent of Christian's tantrums. The Carolina guys were skating around, hugging O'Neill, and I grinned. Jay just glared.
"Since when are they 'your' team, anyway?"
"They're kinda growin' on me..."
"Convenient," Jay muttered, dryly.
"Hey, I'm just bein' loyal t' the good ol' boys."
"Whatever," Jay muttered. We fell silent again. There were only a couple more minutes left.
"Looks like Carolina's gonna win it, huh?"
"It's not over yet," Jay informed me, looking slightly defeated. I just laughed and layed down next to Jay, propping myself up with the other pillow to watch the last minute and a half.
"If they didn't score a goal in the past two hours, what makes y' think they'll get one in the last minute?" I asked with a smirk.
"Fuck you, Matt. You don't even like hock - YES!" Jay sat up suddenly, pumping a fist in excitement as Toronto scored a goal. It had been an ugly goal, with almost every player practically standing on top of the goal. But after everything was cleared out, the puck was sitting in the goal. Twenty seven seconds on the clock. "Did you see that? Did you see that?"
"What the hell was that?"
"It was perfect! They pulled Cujo, overmanned Carolina, knocked it to Sundin who just tapped it in. Irbe didn't stand a chance! Heh!" I couldn't help but smile. Jay was grinning like crazy. "I told you it wasn't over!"
"So now what?"
"Sudden death overtime! We are so totally going to game seven!"
So, it wasn't wholly a gimmick, I thought to myself with a smile. "Hey, Carolina can score, too."
Jay just glared as the last few seconds ticked off and Toronto made one last fruitless advance. "No way, no way."
The game cut to another intermission and Jay and I watched intently. I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath. Funny, I never expected to be that interested in a hockey game. It was more intense than I had expected. Even if you watched for two hours and no one scored, those last ten minutes had two goals and they were intense. Jay had been presumptious. I wasn't that big of a football fan. I'd played a little in high school, but didn't really follow the NFL. But I could see myself becoming a NHL fan. But that didn't mean I was going to grow a mullet, I thought to myself with a smile, noticing how all the 'specialists' - or who ever they were on the intermission report - were sporting the hideous style. I didn't understand the whole intermission report, but I picked up pieces here and there. They seemed to think Carolina was going to win.
When they were about to cut back to the game, I heard voices in the hall, laughing, then hushing. Jay didn't move at all, but I watched the door out of the corner of my eye. The lock clicked and Jeff and Adam stumbled in, Jeff saying quietly, "Shh, I don't want to wake -... oh."
I turned to those two, half smiling and waved shortly as the players lined up for a face off. Adam and Jeff watched us, wide-eyed. I guess it did seem pretty weird. Jay and I didn't usually hang out, but here we were, laying side-by-side, watching T.V. Jeff sputtered a bit, then, "Hey, Matt, I thought you'd be -"
"Not during the game," Jay cut him off. I grinned and turned back to the T.V. The Leafs had just won the face off and were skating towards Irbe. I was picking this up pretty quickly. Adam and Jeff had fallen silent, shocked. I looked at them out of the corner of my eye and caught them exchanging smiles.
"Who's winning?" Adam finally asked. He boldly crossed the room, in front of the T.V., causing Jay to scowl, and sat on the floor at the foot of the bed in front of Jay. Jeff followed suit and sat in front of me.
"Tied, overtime," I answered, realizing that Jay wasn't paying attention. Jeff looked at me, surprised. He knew that I'd never paid attention to hockey before.
"Who's playin'?" Jeff asked, blankly.
"Leafs and 'Canes," Jay answered shortly. That meant nothing to Jeff, I know.
"Carolina's about t' eliminate Toronto from the playoffs," I clarified.
Adam turned to me, wide-eyed, apparantly surprised that I'd said that in front of Jay. Jay just scowled. "You a Hurricanes fan?"
"I've become one recently."
"Bandwagonner," Jay coughed. I grinned.
"Carolina?" Jeff asked, about five minutes behind us. "We have an ice hockey team?"
"Hockey team," I corrected, earning a grin from Jay. "Pretty damn good one."
"Pretty damn good was that goal Toronto just scored," Jay corrected me. Adam grinned this time. He seemed very amused.
"Too bad they won't be doin' that again this season."
Jay glared again, but I just smirked, keeping my eyes on the game. We sat in silence for a couple minutes, the only sounds being the T.V. and Jay's random muttering. Jeff stood up abruptly, bored, I assumed, and went over to where he'd dropped his luggage earlier. Adam watched him go, but Jay and I didn't pay attention. A few more minutes passed and a couple close calls. I joined Jay in the muttering, but we started to get louder as the time passed.
"Go, go, come on, guys, just one more goal..."
"Y' gotta get these guys outta the way, come on..."
"Sweet! Saved! That's it, Cujo!"
"Hey! Goalie! Get back in front of the goal!"
"He's out of the crease! Cream him!"
"Hey!" I yelled, pointing at a particularly hard take down of Carolina's goalie, Irbe. "What the hell was that?"
"If he gets out of his crease, he's fair game," Jay answered with a smirk.
"His crease?"
"That blue thing in front of the goal."
"That doesn't seem fair..."
"What are you complaining about? We still didn't score..." Jay muttered.
"Still... hey! That's it!" I said, grinning as the puck once again slipped past Cujo. I turned to Jay with a smug grin. He was staring at the T.V., slackjawed, not moving at all. Adam and I exchanged confused glances. Jay looked frozen.
"Um, Jay, man?" Adam asked, waving his hand in front of Jay's face.
"No!" he screamed, causing Jeff to jump in surprise. Adam and I started laughing, but Jay just moaned. "They made it so far... they just got back all their injured players, Quinn just came back...fucking Carolina..."
Adam set a consoling hand on Jay's arm, but he couldn't hide a toothy grin. I was smirking, too. Frustrated, Jay grabbed the remote, violently shut off the T.V., and dropped his head on the pillow in front of him. Jeff came back over, having changed into more relaxed clothes, and looked over Jay with an amused smile.
"So, um, Jay," I began slowly with an evil smile crossing my face. "Goin' t' watch the finals with me?"
Jay looked up at me quickly with a death glare. "Like hell."
He got up, angrily grabbed his sandals, and stormed out the door muttering, "Imagine, watching the finals with a Carolina fan..."
Adam and I started laughing as Jeff sat next to me with a confused look.
"Made a new friend?"
I just smiled.