***Author's note: As someone who tries to keep things as accurate as possible in my stories, you will notice I took a lot of liberties in time frames and accuracy of Penguins travel in this chapter. So suspension of disbelief please. Also, I feel like all my female characters do is blush and cry, so apologies for that as well. ;)***
Late January 2010
I'm not a flyer.
I've only flown a handful of times and each one was worse than the next. Which is why, when Ray tells me I'm to join the team on the long Canadian road trip out west, I'm more nervous about the flying part than being with him for the next 6 days.
But don't get me wrong, I'm nervous about that too. The seeing him part.
Because I haven't. Seen him, that is.
It's been two weeks since that afternoon in the Lemieux's garage. My face burns at the memory and how ridiculous I behaved.
I wasn't lying when I said it was a mistake. And the look on Sid's face confirmed it.
I don't know what it was.
A severe lapse in judgement. A pathetic attempt to throw myself at someone who doesn't want me. Will never want me.
And I don't allow myself to indulge in what he was thinking. I don't allow myself to remember how his mouth felt on my skin, how his touch made my body buzz and hum with pleasure, how the feeling of him, inside me….
No. I don't allow myself to think about it.
And so I avoid him. I mean, I seriously avoid him. To the point where I turn and run in the opposite direction when he comes into view.
It's childish, I know.
But I don't know what to say. I don't know where to look. I see him and my palms begin to sweat, my body begins to shake, and a feeling of nausea hits me, hard.
So I just run and what he thinks of that I don't even want to guess.
It was a week after when Ray called me into his office. For a moment I was afraid he'd seen my numerous acts of unprofessionalism or worse, somehow found out what happened at the wake. But instead he offered me a job.
Claude's job.
And before I could respond. Before I could tell him that the plan is the same as it's always been, that I will leave at the end of the year, that I will start Yale in the fall and I will live out my dream, he quickly followed up by telling me that I don't have to give an answer until the end of the year. That I have a few months to decide and until then, I can be the "acting" travel secretary. Acting, something I have never done well as evidenced by the way I've been running around the Igloo the past few weeks. He'll compensate me of course and when I hear the salary they'll pay me in the interim, well I can pay not only for Yale, but for all of Molly's college too.
Yale is my dream, but I feel loyalty to the Penguins and more so to Claude. It's only right that I stay out the year and do what I can to keep things going smoothly.
The first order of business is this road trip. It's important for me to see the other arenas, meet the other team travel staff, tour prospective hotels looking to do deals with various sports organizations, as well as, meet with the contacts at some of the most elite hotels in Western Canada.
The dread fills me at this proposition.
Forget Sid. The only thing that scares me more than having to talk to him, is being 20,000 feet in the sky. Going across a foreign nation. In the middle of winter.
Winter in Canada is scary enough, flying through snowstorms, pushes my anxiety full throttle.
But instead I nod and Ray fills me in on the details.
And now I'm here.
On the Penguins team plane. About to take off.
And I think I'm going to throw up.
The plane is divided into two areas. The front of the plane is filled with front office staff. PR, media staff, assistants, upper management, etc. The back half is the players. The whole plane is like first class times 100, nicer than I've ever seen. I am seated next to a girl from media who is on her phone the whole time. I'm on the window side, hoping that being able to see the horizon will help me with motion sickness.
The staff files in, everyone putting away bags and getting settled. They take their seats and slowly the players begin to file in next. I thumb through the book that I brought with me and try not to think about who is passing by. Out of the corner of my eye I see flashes of dark colors and hear animated conversation. And then I can feel eyes on me without even looking. I force myself not to look up, but I can feel the familiar burn on my cheeks as I notice Katie from media is looking at me too.
I look sideways at her and see that beyond her confused look is Sid, stopped in the aisle. I can't help it, my eyes flicker up and I meet his perplexed gaze.
It's only for a fraction of a second and then a shove from Max behind him moves him along.
Katie just gives me a strange look and goes back to her phone, shaking her head.
I stare at the page in front of me for the next 20 minutes, until it is announced we are taking off.
The take off doesn't go great. I clutch at the arms of my large leather seat and close my eyes tightly. Katie tries to talk to me, ask if I'm ok, I nod, but I know it doesn't convince her. Finally after a few minutes we level out and things seem to be better. A few minutes later the captain (of the plane) comes on and tells us we can use our electronic devices. Katie pulls out her laptop and gets to work. I do the same.
Only when I try to read numbers and text, it all becomes blurry and stomach begins to lurch.
Five, ten minutes go by on this five and a half hour trip and I'm struggling to concentrate. The plane has already entered some turbulence and my motion sickness is in full effect. I shut the laptop and look out the window, trying to focus my gaze on the deep blue sky. It doesn't work. My stomach is turning over and over.
This time I know I'm going to throw up.
Trying not to panic, I shimmy past Katie and head to the front of the plane where the restroom is.
The red occupied sign stares back at me.
I'm starting to sweat and as the plane bounces, the nausea becomes more insistent. I'm trying to wait but if I don't get to a bathroom soon, my lunch will be regurgitated in front of the entire Penguins front office. Seeing how green my face is, Ray looks at me worried.
"There's a bathroom in the back too," he tells me.
I nod and turn, moving quickly down the aisle. I know what lies in the journey to the back of the plane, but I don't care.
Dashing down the aisle, I keep my gaze forward. The players are a bit raucous. Some playing games, others chatting with one another, I ignore it all as I race towards the back.
The plane gives another lurch and within seconds I'm inside and the contents of my stomach are in the small aluminum toilet. When I'm sure there is nothing left, I sit back against the wall of the tiny space and breathe. I can only imagine what everyone on the other side of the door are thinking. I take a deep breath and stand. I wash my face and count to ten. Then I open the door, preparing for the long walk back to my seat. Only, when I open the door. Someone is standing in front of me.
And my stomach lurches again, but this time it has nothing to do with the turbulence.
A very pale Rebecca stands in front me. I had been in a heavy psp battle with Tanger and Flower when a blur ran past us and her scent filled my nostrils. Half the guys watched as Rebecca flew down the aisle towards the washroom, while the other half didn't even notice.
I noticed. In fact, I'm shocked she's even on this trip.
I kept playing, my fingers moving quickly over the gaming device but in the back of my head, I'm wondering if she's alright. It's been awhile. So I casually get up and make my way towards the back of the plane.
I feel like an idiot waiting outside the door, but I can't help but be worried. Since that afternoon at Mario's she has been avoiding me and to be honest, it's probably for the best.
She stares up at me, as if I'm the last person she expected to see.
My voice is quiet, "Are you alright?"
I see the pink stain her cheeks as she nods.
"Yes, I'm...fine." Her voice is hoarse and she clears it mid sentence.
Now comes the awkward silence.
The plane dips and she stumbles a bit. I reach out to steady her, but quickly her hand covers her mouth and she turns back into the washroom.
Quickly I follow her and close the door behind us.
Rebecca kneels over the toilet and it's not a pleasant sight as whatever is left inside her makes its way out.
I kneel down too. My hand cautiously hovers over her back until finally I touch her. Moving up and down, hoping to help in any way I can.
She's really sick. I haven't seen anyone throw up like that since I was a kid. I remember my mom in the bathroom for months when she was preg…
Oh god.
I think I'm going to throw up.
I wait with baited breath for her to finish. Finally she weakly reaches for the handle and flushes. I sit back, giving her some room as she gathers some toilet paper and cleans herself up.
She starts to stand and I do too. Too quickly. It feels to small in here and I'm suddenly sweating myself.
I need to ask, but I'm terrified of the answer.
Rebecca sees my face.
"What?" she asks, a defensive tone to her voice.
"Are you…" my voice doesn't sound like my own. "I mean, do you think you're…" I'm struggling bad here. "We didn't use…"
Her face flushes and I'm not sure if its embarrassment or anger.
"I'm not pregnant," she says flatly.
Relief washes over me.
"Are you sure?" I can't help but ask.
She nods. "I'm on the pill." Her voice a bit colder.
"Ok, I just thought…" I trail off, looking at the toilet behind her.
"I got my period last week." She says with a defiant tone and I think her aim in telling me is to embarrass me more than herself.
It worked.
The plane bounces slightly and she pales again.
"Wait here," I tell her, putting up a hand and quickly slipping out of the stall.
I make my way down towards my seat.
"Everything ok back there buddy?" Max calls out from a few rows behind my seat.
I give him a look and he knows to shut it. Finally I get to my row and turn to Tanger in the seat across from mine. "Hey, do you have your dramamine with you?"
Luckily, Rebecca is not the only one who struggles with motion sickness. Tanger nods, grabs his bag and pulls out a bottle. He hands them to me and I make my way to the back.
I hand the pills to Rebecca who is pressing a wet paper towel to her forehead.
"Here, this should help."
She looks at me and takes the bottle.
"Thank you." She says softly.
And now it's awkward again. I stand there as she takes the pills and swallows a paper cup full of water.
I don't know what else to say. I don't know if there is any else to say.
She looks at me, her skin sallow, her hairline damp. She looks like shit. And never more beautiful.
I want her to say it wasn't a mistake.
But she won't.
She hands me back the prescription bottle and her fingers brush against mine.
And I know I need to go. Because if I don't...well let's just say becoming a member of the mile high club will soon follow and then everything will get a lot more complicated than it already is.
I leave first and a minute or two she follows. I feel the breeze of her smell as she passes and it lingers with me for the rest of the flight.
I don't see him for the next few days. Once we touch down, it's a nonstop rush of meetings, lunches, tours and conversations about numbers and locations, deals and services. I'm learning more about the hospitality business than I ever thought possible. Im also learning about how this country sees number 87. He isn't a celebrity up here. He is royalty. Everywhere I turn his image is plastered. Lobbies are filled with fans waiting to meet him, hotel staff gush to me about how happy they are to have him here. It's overwhelming just to hear about it. I can't imagine living it.
It's the third day of the trip when I finally see him and it's in a more familiar manner than I would have liked.
It's Saturday night and we are in Calgary. The team is on an off day and we are leaving in the morning for Vancouver. Most of the front office is out at a late dinner, but the constant meetings and the time change has left me exhausted, so I decline the invitation and decide to stay in and order room service. I discover a disaster movie marathon on the sci-fi network and change into my pajamas to settle in. I'm about halfway through Dante's Inferno, when I decide to grab a snack from the vending machine at the end of the hall.
Clad in pajamas and fuzzy socks I head down the long hall. It's eerily quiet as the whole team is out on the town. I put my Canadian coin into the machine and press the necessary buttons to dispense a package of Twizzlers. The coil turns and just as the candy is about to fall, it stops. I stare through the window at the candy balancing between it's holder and the drop to the bottom. Furrowing my brow, I bang the side of the machine, hoping to get the candy to fall. No luck.
Well, this is annoying. It was my last loonie, so it's not like I can go back and try again. I give the machine a shake but nothing. The candy still balances on the second row from the bottom and I think maybe I can grab it. I get on my knees and reach through the swingy door thing and try to curl my hand up to reach it. I can feel the edge of the packaging on the tips of my fingers, so I strain to reach up a little higher.
I'm almost there.
"Don't tell me you're stuck again." An amused voice seems to come from nowhere.
I turn and look up to see Sid standing above me. His arms are crossed, he's dressed in just a t-shirt and shorts.
Oh god. I swear, my life has just become a collection of embarrassing scenarios in which Sidney Crosby, hockey superstar comes to save me. Only I don't want to be saved. I'm trying to forget him. Trying to pretend he doesn't exist. But instead, he's everywhere.
"Im fine," I say and I pull my arm free to prove it to him. The candy stays stuck.
I stand, feeling all sorts of embarrassed and look at the red markings my ill thought out plan has left on my forearm.
"Are you ok?" His voice is low and I try to ignore the tingles the timbre of his voice sends down my spine.
"Yeah, I, uh, I was just trying to get that out." I say lamely gesturing to the machine. Sid's eyes flicker to the vending machine. Then as if we're in the middle of some cheesy tv show, he gives the machine a few whacks and the Twizzlers drop. He reaches in the the swinging door, pulls out the candy and hands it to me.
"Here," he says with a crooked smile.
I can't help but smile back. "Ha, thanks," I say with a nervous laugh.
He just grins. And the pendulum swings back in this strange back and forth he and I live in.
"No problem." He replies as if he's waiting for something else.
And once again, we are in this weird place.
"So, what are you doing here?" I ask, my bluntness a symptom of not knowing what to say. "I mean, shouldn't you be out...with the team?"
I fiddle with the candy and try not to stare at his chest in the form fitting t-shirt he's wearing.
A light blush stains his cheeks. "Oh, I uh, I didn't go out. I, uh, usually don't."
"Why not?"
He rakes his hand through his hair and I feel like maybe I shouldn't pry.
"Well, up here, I usually stay in. It's...challenging to go out. There is a lot of stuff going on with the Olympics coming up so it's just easier to stay in."
"Oh." Is all I can say. "So what do you do?" I ask, truly interested in this idea that he can't go out in public. I mean I see the Crosby-mania here, but I didn't realize it was to this degree.
Sid shrugs. "I dont know, play video games, read, study film. Whatever."
"By yourself?"
"Sometimes, I mean usually, yeah. On a Saturday, guys want to go out, let off some steam, you know."
I don't know. But suddenly it seems sort of sad. And even if I want to pretend that this thing between us is nothing, I can't help but feel bad for him.
And my mouth starts moving before my brain does. Something that only seems to happen when he's around.
"Do you want to watch a movie?" I ask and instantly regret it. I'm saying the opposite of what I am supposed to be doing.
Sid looks surprised at my invitation and I start to tell him never mind when he speaks up.
"Sure."
Oh. Ok.
I feel flustered and I'm sure my cheeks are burning brightly, but I manage a smile.
"Great, I'm watching Dante's Inferno on-"
"Sci-fi? I was watching that too. Came out here to get, well, I guess the same as you." He gestures to the machine and grins.
And that's it. I'm back to square one. Back to where I forget that he left my in that hotel room, back to where I don't feel like some castaway. I'm back to where being around him, talking to him, breathing him in, it makes me feel...good. It makes me feel alive. And everything else disappears and it's just us.
And its unhealthy and definitely humbling, but if it's what he has to offer, I'm willing to take it.
"You can come by whenever, I mean I think it's a marathon, so only if you get a chance, you can watch with me, because that's why I'll be doing, watching. The movie that is. So I am in room 1705, down the hall, whenever you want to watch. The movie."
She gives a funny laugh and I can't help but grin at the terrible display of fumbling words coming out of her mouth.
"I'll be right over, I'm just going to get a snack and go grab a drink." I tell her.
She nods and smiles. And I watch her depart down the long hall.
I insert my money and choose two packages of reese's cups. I stop by my room and grab my vitamin water and make my way to 1705.
There are two beds in Rebecca's room for which I am grateful. She sits stock still on her bed, her eyes glued to the tv, as a sit back against the headboard of the second bed, my legs stretched out before me. I down the four peanut butter cups before the next commercial break. It's weird. This whole thing is weird.
Being friends or whatever we are.
But I'm going with it. I try to make conversation during the break, but I can tell she feels uncomfortable. I look next to me on her night stand and see a puzzle book.
I pick it up and start to thumb through it. It's filled with complicated crosswords and most of it is filled in.
"You like puzzles?" I ask.
She looks over at me and nods.
"Yeah, I mean, I do them before bed, it sort of relaxes me."
"You're almost done with the whole book."
She shrugs. "I've needed a lot of relaxing I guess."
My mind goes to a place that it shouldn't. I think of other ways one could relax or let out some nervous energy, but that is just a bad idea.
"You want to do one?" I ask. The movie is pretty good, in that terrible way, but any chance to talk to her more, I'll take.
"Ok."
Twenty minutes in, I remember how brilliant she is.
We're going back and forth reciting clues and giving out guesses. For every one I get right, she gets ten. But I can tell it is relaxing her. I notice the stiffness disappear and I love watching her nose scrunch up in concentration.
It isn't long until we finish the puzzle, or really she finishes it, I've contributed about three answers.
And then we just talk. About nothing. Stupid things, stuff that doesn't make sense. Questions like would you rather have the hiccups for the rest of your life or lose your sense of smell. We chat mindlessly for an hour until I notice she's stifling a yawn. I want to stay here. For the night. With her. But I know that's not possible, so I reluctantly stand up and she does too.
"I should get going," I say.
She nods solemnly.
"Yeah, early flight tomorrow."
"You'll be ok?" I grin, playing nervously with the bottle in my hands.
She makes a funny face, "Yes, I bought some medicine the other day, it's helped a lot."
"Good." I turn to leave.
"Sid?" Her voice is soft.
"Yeah?" I turn around and she's biting at her lip and fidgeting with her fingers.
"Thanks for helping me the other day. I know I wasn't my best and was sort of short with you. I did appreciate it." Her eyes are soft on mine and all I know is that I want to kiss her. So badly.
"No problem," I say with a duck of my head. "I'm glad I could help. And thanks for the movie night, it gets sort of lonely sometimes on these trips. I feel...disconnected sometimes with being holed up in my room so much."
Rebecca nods in understanding.
"Are you...I mean with Claude, are you ok?" I was hesitant to bring him up, knowing what kind of association that now meant, but the words are out before I can think it through.
Her cheeks pink in an adorable fashion as she nods. "Yes, thanks. It's hard, and different now you know? But I guess we are all managing."
I want to ask if she is going to stay. That her being on this trip means that the front office is setting it up for her to be the new travel person. That she won't be leaving. But I don't.
We walk to the doorway and I turn to say goodnight. And then without thinking, as if my body is moving faster than my brain, I lean down and brush my mouth against hers.
It's light and brief and it's not till I pull back do I realize what I've done.
Her eyes are wide with shock and I have a feeling mine are too. I want to do it again and again and suddenly the thought of that stirs my lower region until I realize I need to leave or I will embarass myself.
"Good night Becs."
"Good night, Sid."
"And that was it?"
Chelsea's voice is questioning and filled with shock. It's four days later and I'm sitting in my office, just finishing my lunch hour. The door is closed and even though I'm talking quietly, I'm still afraid that someone will hear me.
"Yeah, that was it."
"You didn't go to his room and ravish him? Tell him that you want him, that you've always wanted him?"
My face heats up. "No, of course not!" I tell her. This conversation has taken a turn I wasn't expecting. I'd called Chelsea to check in on her. She'd just gone back to Wilkes-Barre this week and I was hoping she was adjusting ok. After a few minutes of serious talk and a few tears, she'd asked to change the subject and asked about the road trip. Of course, even through the phone she'd seen right through me and asked all the questions needed to get the details out of me. But to be honest it was what I needed. I'd been dying to talk to someone about what happened. How what seemed like an innocent evening had turned into something else that I kept replaying in my mind. I was confused about everything. I was confused about my feelings and his feelings and where we stood. Nothing made sense. I couldn't logically figure out how something was so wrong and so right at the same time. And I couldn't help but wonder if maybe this was another chance, our second chance.
Chelsea reads me the riot act and tells me not to think but do.
"Do what?" I ask.
"Do him!" she shouts into the phone.
I'm quiet. For too long, I guess because it's only a few seconds until I hear a gasp.
"You did do him, didn't you?!" Her voice is aghast.
What am I supposed to say? Yes, I did "do him" while you were only a few yards away grieving for your father. It was abhorrent and I couldn't tell her. So instead, I tell her my lunch is up, I miss her and will talk soon.
She reluctantly concedes and we hang up.
But there are butterflies starting to stir in my belly, and a smile forms on my face as I think about his mouth soft against mine. We didn't see each other the rest of the trip. But I keep thinking about him. And knowing how wrong it is, my mind and my heart is doing little happy dances.
I set back to work and clear my mind of such silly thoughts.
I check my email and open an attachment from the Winter Olympics office. It's a confirmation of players family and friends that have travel and accommodations for the games in Vancouver that start in just a week. The Olympic travel department sets these all up, but the teams are responsible for dispersing the itineraries for the players and their loved ones.
I scan the list.
I scan the list and my stomach drops.
And the butterflies are gone and I'm left with just a pit in my stomach as the name stares back at me on my screen.
Twenty-seven people are listed under Sidney Crosby, but I see only one.
Katy Lanier.
And my heart hardens a little bit more.
***Author's note: Hello, hello, is this thing on? So, so sorry about the delay. Real life is one excuse and I'll be honest, I've started this chapter about 5 times. Once I had about 2000 words done and was like, I hate this. So needless to say this chapter was a struggle for me. I did not originally intend to write this, I was going to move forward a bit and get to Rebecca's "proposal" or really the excuse she comes up with to justify casual sex with Sid (as if anyone would need an excuse, lol!). But I just couldnt get from point A to point B with a little more background of where they stand, plus the recent western Canada trip inspired me. So anyway, the story will hopefully move along and we will get where we need to be and hopefully we will not all be in retirement when that happens. I appreciate your feedback and your nudges and I hope to keep moving along. Thank you so much for your patience and comments. The Rebecca/Katy travel accomodations suggestion was also a big inspiration, so thank you for your feedback! It means everything! And of course, GO PENS!***
