Rachael, It's All or Nothing

03: So Nervous When I Drove You [Home]

It was four days later, and I couldn’t get it out of my brain that I had made a fool out of myself twice in front of a famous person.

Granted, he wasn’t a movie star or anything, but Jonathan was sort of a big deal in Chicago.

And all I could keep thinking was, I shoved my head in his crotch.

Which brings me to my current situation: standing outside the United Center in the freezing cold while waiting for Jonathan. My plan must not have been all that original, because there were countless people hovering out here. There were boys and girls, young and old.

And they were all cheering for the Hawks. Great. So I take four buses here, hoping to catch Jonathan before he left so I could insist I wasn’t a lunatic and give back his watch, and chances are he won’t even see me through this crowd!

But before I could dwell any longer on it, the doors squeaked open and the ear piercing scream of all the fans made me lose my hearing. I looked up, and there he was. In a suit, regardless of the fact that it was only a practice. He wore a hat over his head, but I didn’t picture him to be the kind of guy that dyed his hair, so I assumed it would be the same shade as before.

The expression on his face made him unreachable. There was no humor in his eyes, which was in stark contrast to the smiling curly-haired blonde beside him. He looked serious, or even angry, but it was hard to tell for sure. But he signed autographs nonetheless, as I was pushed further and further towards the back.

I complained loudly, not that anyone cared, and tried to push my way through. I made my way to an opening. Unfortunately, it was behind Jonathan, near the doors, which did me absolutely no good.

I was so focused on getting to him that I didn’t see the door until I felt the pain between my eyes.
---
Before I opened my eyes, I could hear the hushed whispers around me. I had walked into a door. Perfect.

When I opened my eyes, a pair of brown eyes were staring at me. “The first two times could have been a coincidence, but now I just think you’re doing this for the attention,” was the first thing he said to me.

My face got hot, and I was immediately angry. But I couldn’t say anything to him. I pushed him out of my way, and stumbled through the crowd. For the most part, people were silent, but I could feel their eyes on me. My head was pounding, and the pain behind my eyes made my throat close up and my eyes water.

“Rachael, wait!”

The voice I recognized immediately, and it made me stop, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t know he knew my name.

Then he appeared in my vision with his equipment bag, but no fans followed him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I shook with rage. “You called me a sadistic attention-seeking whore and now you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

“Actually, I called you –”

“No I am not okay! I took four buses over here to see you so I could apologize for shoving my head in your crotch and to give your watch back, but instead I end up unconscious on a cement step and you think I’m doing it for the attention?”

When I finally stopped yelling, he was completely stoic in front of me. Under his gaze I was getting a little uneasy. My blush had long since disappeared, having been replaced by a blotchy look that I get when I get upset and am on the verge of crying.

“Usually you have to date me for a couple of months before you’re allowed to fly off the handle at me for no reason.”

I’m not sure if I was humiliated because I had once again given him ammunition against me, or if I had finally realized that I ran into a door and knocked myself out in front of a lot of people. But either way, I was overwhelmed with emotion and I had to get away from him.

I unclipped his watch from my wrist and tossed it at him. “Just take your stupid watch.”

“Let me give you a ride home,” he called to me.

I sniffed, but turned to look at him. “And what, give you more chances to humiliate me?”

“You kind of do that all by yourself.”

I glared at him. It was people like Jonathan Toews that made me hate all men in general.
---
I don’t know why I got in his car. Furthermore, I don’t know why he offered me a ride. I could be an axe-wielding maniac, not that he cared. My eyes opened wildly as I realized something: he could be an axe-wielding maniac.

That thought was brief, as I settled back into my seat and let my eyebrows lower to a more acceptable height over my eyes. As we idled at a red light, a patch of snow was uplifted and blew across the street. It reminded me of the movie Twister, which I saw with my mom when I was younger. And as I thought about the movie, camped out in the back of my mom’s jeep at the drive-in, I thought about Twister, the game.

“I’m not very good at Twister,” I told him unnecessarily.

He looked out of the corner of his eye at me, and then back at the road. A smirk was on his face, and part of me dreaded what he said next. “So what you’re saying is you’re not very bendy.”

It’s like I had anticipated a dirty remark, because the second it left his mouth I turned red.

“Stop the car. I want out,” I grumbled.

“I can’t stop the car – we’re on the highway. You’ll get hit.”

“Wouldn’t that be a shame!” I snapped.

“It would. You’re entertaining.”

I spluttered. “I’m entertaining?”

“You’re going red. Are you breathing?”

I ignored his comment. “So what your saying is I’m like a puppet show.”

“Well, no. I don’t think you’re made out of felt.”

“Let me out.”

“No.” He even went as far as to lock the doors.

I glared at him over the center consol. He was just getting off the highway, so he couldn’t use the ‘you’ll get hit’ excuse. “Pull over.”

“I’m not pulling over.”

“Well either pull over or I’ll jump out.”

I was surprised when he actually pulled over to the side of the street. I had been calling his bluff, and I think he knew that. I didn’t really want out – I was angry with him. But he still unlocked the doors, opened mine, undid my seatbelt, and pushed me out.

When I was out, I stared at him through the window. “Oh, very mature, Toews,” I said, purposely pronouncing his name wrong.

He shrugged and locked the doors. “Very funny. Let me back in.”

He revved the engine, and as he signaled to get back into traffic. My eyes widened in panic as I realized he was going to leave me here.

No, I second-guessed myself, he wouldn’t leave me here.

Well, that’s what I thought until he literally drove off. “You dick!” I yelled, knowing he couldn’t hear me, “I hope I get raped and you feel bad!”