18 Days

7. Day Seven;; Fly on the Wall

I buried my dead cockroach. He was squished, and there was no way of identifying the head from the butt, but I buried him. Marc, bless his soul, was trying his hardest not to laugh at me.

With his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the street, he tried to defend himself. “You have to admit,” he teased, “you got a little dramatic over a cockroach.”

I pouted at the sidewalk, sidestepping quickly to avoid the businessman running past me. “It isn’t his fault I stepped on him.”

His grip tightened on my shoulder. “I think it is.”

I looked up to glare at him, but he just completely disarmed the situation with a smile. I leaned back into his side and tightened my grip on his waist. “I mean, did he not know who you are?”

I tried to hide the small smile on my face. “I guess not,” I mumbled into his side. When we reached our destination, he released my shoulder to open the door. I skirted inside, welcoming the heat, and the smell of the coffee grinds.

There weren’t that many people in here today, but that just made it better for us. Marc had a game in a few hours, but we had stopped in for coffee first. As we placed our order, I saw Marc try to take out his wallet. “I will pay!” I shouted.

The poor kid behind the counter jumped, his eyes widening. Marc just sighed. Turning his attention to the kid behind the counter, he handed him some money. Before the exchange could be made, I grabbed Marc’s arm and pulled it back. “You don’t have to pay for me,” I told him.

But Marc was a lot bigger than me, and just hugged me to his chest. I was rendered immobile and couldn’t move because of the grip he had on me. “She’s a little emotional,” I heard him tell the guy. “Just lost a family pet.”

I decided not to make a spectacle of myself, so I stood still while the cashier gave Marc his change.

When he released me, he quickly shoved the coffee in my face. “Marcus,” I sang, skipping down the street after him. He didn’t stop walking, but he did slow down. “You’re using brute force to restrain me.”

Marc rolled his eyes. “You know damn well I would never hurt you.”

I grinned widely. “But I lost a part of myself when I became emotionally scarred in the Starbucks.”

He took a sip of his drink, and turned to look at me. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he told me, smiling also.

We quieted down as Marc’s phone rang. “Hello?” He was silent, looking up to the sky as he listened. “No, I’m coming with Chelsea.” He paused again. “Yeah. In about five minutes.” And then he hung up.

“You, my dear, are going to come through the back with me.”

I was feeling significantly better since I squished the cockroach, and I was back to myself. “I’m your dear?”

He didn’t skip a beat as a sarcastic look marred his features. “You’re my everything.”

I laughed at his tone, shoving him lightly in the arm. He pretended like I had shoved him with brute force, so when he bounced back to my side, he put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to his side in what I affectionately termed “an almost headlock.”

But right after, he released me.

I sighed as Madison Square Gardens came into view. I could see crowds of people filing in through the doors, and I suddenly wanted to know what it would be like to be mobbed by fans.

“No,” Marc said, breaking me from my thoughts.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“I know what the look on your face means, and no, you don’t want to be swarmed by hockey fans.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Stay out of my head, Marcus.”

“Are you saying I’m on your mind?”

I couldn’t quite copy the sarcastic look he had before, so I stopped in front of him. I held my hands out to stop him, having discarded my coffee cup in a garbage a few feet back. “I don’t know how to tell you this,” I told him with a smile, “but I’m only with you for the fame. Regardless of your obvious good looks.”

He laughed, grabbing me in a hug and pulling me to him. Inside, I was squealing like a child. But outwardly I could only laugh with him. When I put my arms around his neck, I pulled him to me too. “I knew you were only a prolonged one night stand,” he said with a sigh.

He set me down on my feet, and I felt flushed from the contact. “This is the most twisted one night stand I’m probably ever going to have.”

As we walked towards the back, I saw a flash of purple. I turned to the side, spotting a familiar brunette. “Hey Marc,” I whispered, gently touching the back of his right arm, “look who it is!”

Marc looked over his shoulder. “Are you kidding me?” he hissed quietly.

I couldn’t stop the smile from crossing my face. I turned to the woman, taking a deep breath in preparation to yell. I wasn’t able to yell, however, because Marc clamped a hand around my mouth. He had to pull me back against him so I couldn’t walk out of his grasp.

I licked his hand, to which he twitched slightly. I gripped his hand, removing it from my mouth and holding it against my chest so he couldn’t try to cover my mouth again. “Hey I have that shirt!” I crowed happily, pointing to Sam.

Marc began to pull me backwards, but I was having none of that. “Hi Sam!” I yelled jovially.

She turned at the sound of her name, her eyes darting around until they landed on us. Marc stiffened behind me, and his arms tightened around me. I don’t know if he was trying to protect me or himself, but good to know he has no qualms about using me as a human shield.

When she saw me, she glared. I looked over my shoulder, at Marc. “I don’t think she likes me very much.”

In fact, when she came over, she completely ignored Marc, which was weird for her. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

I had fully intended on answering her, but my eyes were drawn towards her chest. “I don’t want to alarm you,” I said slowly, keeping my eyes on her chest, “but your breasts are hanging out.”

She was silent, and when I looked up to her face, she was scowling at me. I tilted my head to the side, stepping out of Marc’s grasp. “Why don’t you like me?” I asked curiously.

“Marc doesn’t seem to mind!” She crowed shrilly, looking smugly at me. I furrowed my eyebrows together in response. When I looked briefly back to Marc, he was staring at the sidewalk. Turning back to Sam, I said, “Keep up, Sam. We’ve moved past your breasts.”

I felt confidant that I had somewhat stumped her, conversation-wise, so I just smiled brightly. “Bye Sam! I’m going off the sit in the box!” I waved to her (even though I was standing right in front of her), and Marc and I started to walk towards the back entrance.

Marc looked over his shoulder, and then bent down to my ear. “You aren’t sitting in the box.”

I grinned innocently once he straightened back up. “But did you see the look on her face? She might actually kill me in my sleep!”

Marc grimaced. “Don’t joke like that.”

I batted my eyelashes as he gestured me through the door. Inside the door, there was a woman waiting. She had a headset on, and held a clipboard in her grasp.

“I’ll see you after the game,” Marc told me.

I began following the woman, she gestured me away with a kind smile. I looked over to my shoulder and gave him a sincere smile. “Good luck.”
---
The game was amazing, but that’s to be expected with the Rangers. Sean Avery was a little instigator at times, but at others he almost looked like a frightened kid the way he danced around trouble.

I sat in my seat, waiting for everyone else to leave before I did. But everyone didn’t leave.

“Why are you here?” The voice was cold, the words biting like knives.

I turned my head, looking at Sam who gazed at me with narrowed eyes. It was highly unattractive on her part, but I wouldn’t tell her. Her posture was straight and rigid, and I think she was grinding her teeth.

I looked around at the arena before innocently looking back at her. “I thought I was in Madison Square Gardens to watch the Rangers, but –” I trailed off, looking at the roof of the building. “But evidently I’m losing my mind…”

She didn’t find it amusing. “Let me make this clear,” she hissed to me. When she started walking towards, my eyes traveled to her. “Stay away from Marc,” she stressed with a threatening glare.

I stood up, even though that didn’t add much height. I didn’t want to be confrontational, but I didn’t want to do this sitting down. “Stop threatening me,” I asked politely.

She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips at me. “And why would I want to do that?”

I couldn’t possibly be any happier by the way this was turning out. My insides were bursting with the chance to tell her off. “Because,” I said with a large grin, “you look like a constipated duck when you stand like that.”

And I flounced passed her.
---
When Marc was exiting the dressing room, I was trying to get a good look at my left tricep. From my peripheral vision I could see him approaching, and when he realized what I was doing, his walk slowed dramatically.

“Hey Chels, what are you doing?”

“Looking at my arm.”

“I can see that. Why are you looking at your arm though?”

I dropped my arm and looked at him. He was confused, an adorable smile marring his features. Shrugging, I tried to be as nonchalant as I could. “Because Sam bit me.”

I could tell he was taken back by what I said, because he took a step back and his mouth opened to form incoherent words. He clamped his mouth shut and his eyebrows pinched together. “She… bit you?” he asked slowly.

My face lit up. “Yeah. Want to kiss it better?”

He brushed off my comment. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

As we walked down the tunnel, I could smell whatever he put on himself. “Marcus,” I sang, “you smell good.”

“That wouldn’t be as perverted coming from anyone else,” he sighed.

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Good game, by the way.”
---
When we got to my place, I convinced him to walk me all the way to my door. My reasoning? What if I’d slipped on a nonexistent patch of ice, fallen, and cracked my head open? I need him to catch me when I fall.

“It’s the beginning of April, Chels. The chances of you slipping on ice are slim to none.”

I dug around in my pocket for my keys. I forcibly shoved my key into the lock, because the rusty deadbolt never liked to go quietly. But before I could turn the key, the door squeaked open.

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking at Marc over my shoulder. “Didn’t I lock this when we left?”

Marc caught on quickly. “Hold on Chelsea,” he said, stepping around me so he could push the door open all the way. He entered my place first, taking deliberately slow, quiet steps.

When he had entered my place and no one had jumped him, I quietly entered behind him. He stopped at the edge between the foyer and the living room. I stopped just behind him, and the sight before me made me cover my mouth with my hand as I gasped. My living room was completely torn apart. “Oh my god,” I whispered.