18 Days

3. Day Three;; Girlfriend

I’ve never really been a conventional girl. For instance, when I go to Marc’s place after five p.m., I never knock on the front door. There was a tree by the overhang of the roof. It was New York, so it wasn’t an especially large tree, but I didn’t weigh enough to actually break any of the branches.

Most of the snow from the other day had melted, and therefore his roof was dry when I stepped onto it. I knocked on his window hoping to god he was actually in his room. The blinds were closed, and I therefore couldn’t see if he was in there. I didn’t mind waiting outside for him though – the twilight was very nice to look at.

So I turned around, planted my butt on the roof shingles, and watched the sunset. I drew my knees up to my chest, winding my arms around them and putting my chin on my knees. The good thing about Marc’s place is that it faces west, so you can see the sun setting. Yes, even through New York haze you could see the brilliant colours stretch across the sky, never ending, but never running out of vibrancy. The window slid open behind me, and as the hairs on the back of my neck stood, I knew it was Marc that was coming out.

“So you finally answered my knocking,” I mused quietly, never turning to look at him.

From my peripheral vision, he settled down beside me, about a finger’s length away. “Actually, my neighbour called and said there was a person on my roof – she asked me if I wanted her to call the cops.”

I turned my head to him. “I hope you’re not having me arrested, Marcus.”

He sighed, still looking at the slowly disappearing sun. “Why don’t you just use my door? Did you know my neighbour has called me three times saying there’s a psychotic looking female roaming my roof?”

I batted my eyelashes at him, and the action caused him to look at me. He smiled softly, and I couldn’t help but return the sentiment. “I’m not a very conventional kind of girl, Marcus. Keep up.”

He stretched out, leaning back on his hands and closed his eyes while he rolled his head back. I copied his pose; taking note of how much longer his legs were than mine, how his shoulders were higher, and how, while sitting down, my head was just above his shoulders.

However, much to my dismay, when he straightened himself upwards, I seemed to shrink in size. “Are you kidding me!?”

He looked at me, startled. “What?”

Even though the sun had set, I could still make out the outline of his jaw and see the questioning look in his eyes.

“As if you’re so much bigger than I am!”

He crowed with laughter at my distraught look. “It isn’t funny!” I whacked him in the arm, but that only enticed more laughter. I went to hit him again, but he put a hand out to ward off my attack. I narrowed my eyes, calmly placing my hand against the palm of his.

Dwarfed again.

“I am so out of here,” I stated, standing up and entering his house through the window.

“Oh come on, Chels,” Marc pleaded from behind me.

I ended up in his room, but I didn’t stop to look around. I had climbed through his window before, and I had also gone through all of his stuff before. “Females aren’t supposed to be bigger than males.”

I put my hands on my hips.

“But, you know,” he hurried to fix what he said, “inside you’re larger than life?”

I dropped my shoulders, not affronted anymore, and walked into an impromptu hug. With my arms wrapped around his waist, his arms wound around my shoulders and held me to him. “That hug the other day just opened a can of worms for you, didn’t it?”

I nodded against his chest, sighing listlessly. “Face it, Marcus. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Well, I suppose there are worse things that could happen.” Just then, the doorbell rang. “Oh, look! Someone who actually uses the door.”

I grinned at his back as he removed himself from the hug and headed to the stairs. “Come on Chels, it’s probably my brother.”

I was immediately excited. “Which one?” I asked slowly.

“Jared. The Wolves don’t have any games for a couple days, so I told him to fly down here.”

I was excited. Marc talked about his brothers, but I had never met any of them. I gunned it down the steps, beating him to the door. “I’ll get it!”

I whipped open the door, and was greeted with a younger version of Marc. “Oh wow,” I breathed, “You look just like Marc.”

He blinked a couple of times, before taking a step forward. His hand was outstretched, in a greeting. I sidestepped his hand and hugged him. “I’m Chelsea.”

He stood perfectly still, slightly awkward at my lack of formalities. But then he gave me a one-armed hug, giving me his name as well. Marc pulled me back from Jared then, and gave him one of those manly thump-them-on-the-back hugs.

Marc grabbed his stuff and the two boys followed me inside. I was sitting on Marc’s counter, watching the two interact. It was brotherly love, that’s for sure.

“So do you really have a giant nickel?” I asked (what I thought to be) conversationally.

Marc wasn’t fazed by my question, but Jared just kind of… stood there.

I pouted. “Was I not supposed to ask about that?”

Marc shook his head, laughing. “Nah, Jared’s just speechless around the opposite sex.”

Jared snapped to at the accusation, slamming his brother in the side with a closed fist. Accepting the challenge, Marc grabbed at Jared and the two began tussling.

I was not going to get involved in a wrestling match between two males that were both over six feet tall, so I settled for throwing grapes at them. “Separate!” I chanted, throwing the seedless red grapes.

“I demand total separation. Marc, you’re Quebec, and Jared, you’re the rest of Canada!” I grabbed a spatula from the drawer beneath my legs, and waved it around. “Separate or I’ll come over there and open a can of whoop ass!”

Their separation was simultaneous, yet no words had been exchanged between them. Due to the fact that both of them had strawberry blonde hair, they were both extremely flushed. I cracked a grin at the sight of both of them. Marc looked older, and Jared’s face still held some young roundness. “You guys are just too cute,” I laughed.

Just then, the door burst open. “Marc! My mom said there was some psycho on your roof! Are you –”

Marc whirled around incredibly quickly, but Jared and I were a little slower to turn around. There was a girl just inside the door, from what I could see, looking quickly between the three of us.

I assumed she meant me, so I hopped down off the counter. I carefully avoided the fallen grapes on the ground, and came to stand between Marc and Jared.

“Hi, I’m the psycho from the roof,” I introduced myself brightly, holding out my hand for her to shake.

Her eyes narrowed at me, and I faltered slightly. “Although most people call me Chelsea, you’ll probably be calling me bitch, slut, and any other derogatory name…”

Marc inched closer to my side and jabbed me in the back. I winced, but didn’t say anything. “Sam,” Marc directed to the woman, “what are you doing here?”

The second Marc addressed her, the glare she had on her face melted into a smile. I rolled my eyes and turned to Jared. “So…” I trailed off, looking around. I wracked my brain for something to say, but the only thing I could think of, was, “how big is the nickel?”

Jared grinned widely. “It’s pretty big.”

My eyes lit up. “So, how old are you anyway?”

“Eighteen.”

I gasped happily. “Oh excellent. So you aren’t jailbait.” I wrapped my arms around one of his, and led him off into the living room.

“Sam, you can’t just walk in through my door.”

“I was just making sure you were okay!”

“Well, I’m okay, so you can go.”

Marc sounded wary, encouraging his neighbour to leave his house. “So, have you met Sam before?” I asked curiously.

Jared looked over his shoulder, even though we could no longer see Sam and Marc. “Yeah. A couple of months ago, the last time I was here. She’s weird.”

I tilted my head to the side. “Does she like Marc or something?”

Jared snorted, rolling his eyes. “You have no idea. I’m pretty sure she stalks him.”

I pouted. “She isn’t… dangerous, is she?”

Jared shrugged. “I think she’s harmless. A little out of whack, but harmless.”

I nodded, grinning. “So, are you hungry, Jared?”
----
After a lot of persuading and puppy dog eyes, I convinced Marc to let Sam come with us to get a little late night snack.

Sitting at a table for four, I was beside Jared and across from Marc. I found the entire thing to be hilarious, so on the ride over to the restaurant, I had declared that I claimed Jared as my buddy. Marc had never looked for woeful at the prospect of sitting next to Sam.

We sat at the restaurant, and I was deep in the midst of a conversation with Jared, just after the waiter had left with our orders. “So do you think you’ll end up going out to Phoenix if they draft you again?”

Jared was slow, thinking about his possible answers. “I mean, I don’t really care where I go… it’ll be weird to be the only one in the western conference.”

I nodded. “Playing for Gretzky would be pretty cool, I’d imagine.”

There was a bang underneath the table, and I jumped, startled, and steadied my glass of water. Marc looked incredibly pained, as Sam practically leaned over onto his seat. I took pity on him, and directed my attention at the girl. “So, Sam, how long have you been stalking my Marcus?”

I had no intention of that being rude, merely curious, but she took it as the former. “Your Marc?” She stressed, sliding back into her own seat and sneering at me.

“Yes,” I paused, thanking the waiter as he placed my food in front of me. The chicken Alfredo looked amazing. I eyed the salad in front of Sam. I disregarded her question from before, and went on another innocent warpath. “It must be the fluorescent lighting,” I mused to myself.

Marc looked at me, carefully, and Jared just looked a little confused. Sam was the one who spoke, though. “This isn’t fluorescent lighting.”

“Oh, so you’re fat all on your own then.”

Silence rocked our table, until Jared started chocking on his food. “Oh man,” I looked over at Jared, putting my hand on his back and pushing his water to him, “just take a drink,” I ordered quietly.

When I looked up, I don’t think I had anticipated so much hate radiating from Sam. Marc was pleasantly surprised at my declaration, I guess because it meant I wasn’t completely against him.

I winked from across the table, and Sam’s face heated up. “Are you two, like, dating?” she asked.

I crossed my legs, twirling my pasta. “Well Marc spends a lot of time inside my –”

“Chelsea,” Marc warned.

“Apartment,” I continued smoothly.

Marc sighed warily, until I dragged my foot up the inside of his leg. He jumped, again, his knee banging against the top of the table. I laughed at the look on his face. “Did you take your shoes off again?”

I nodded gleefully. “Yes sir, I did.”

The thing about me is, is that I like to take my shoes off as much as I can. This means, when I get to restaurants, I take my shoes off and sit cross-legged, if I can. Tonight we were seated at a booth, so I was able to comfortably cross my legs.

As sadistic as it sounds, I kind of enjoyed getting under Sam’s skin. I wasn’t catty about it. On the contrary, I was as joyful with her as I was with everyone else. “I’ve known him since he got drafted,” she put in sharply, suddenly.

“I kicked him in the head with a ball and nearly gave him a concussion!”

“I live next door to him.”

I shrugged. “He doesn’t treat me like some kind of disease.”

Her eyes got smaller. “I’ve seen him half naked before.”

I tapped my chin, my eyebrows coming back down after they disappeared under my bangs. “I’m the reason he gets naked.”

Marc sighed, dropped his head into his hands. “Chels.”

Jared burst out laughing. I asked him what he was laughing at, but he just shook his head and kept eating quietly. Had it been something I said?

Dinner had been fun, I decided, as the four of us walked back to Sam and Marc’s neighbourhood. I had insisted we walk, because it wasn’t terribly cold out and it was good for the environment.

Less than a block away, I heard a car honking – repeatedly, I should add. I looked over my shoulder, and felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around briefly, to have Marc standing directly in front of me, positioned as if he were carrying on a conversation with me, but his head was facing the direction of the car.

“GO RANGERS GO!” A guy leaned out the window of an SUV and yelled. I smiled, pulling my hat down further over my ears. Marc dropped his hand. We walked uninterrupted from then on, dropping Sam off first.

“Well boys,” I checked my watch and found it was just after twelve. “I’ve got to work tomorrow, so I’ll see you later. It was nice to meet you Jared.”

He smiled. He had warmed up to me a bit, but I’d keep working on him. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hey Jared, I think I’ll take Chelsea home. You can go inside if you want.”

Jared nodded, and started towards the house. I sighed, linking arms with the defenseman. “And they say chivalry’s dead, Mr. Staal.”