Your Hand In Mine

"Kris, why can't you just tell me where we're going? It doesn't even have to be this long explanation, just a simple one word answer," I complained.

"Nope," he said, and I could practically see the smirk on his face. "If I wanted you to know where we are going, I would not 'ave blindfold you." I just groaned. "MapQuest says there is one-'undred nintey-seven mile until we get there, if that 'elp at all." One-hundred ninety-seven miles to where?

Kris called me earlier that day and told me to wear something comfy, grab a pillow and my iPod. Then he came to my apartment around six and picked me up. At first, I told him that I couldn't do whatever he was planning because I was supposed to do wedding crap with Lexa, but he said he talked to her and that she was fine with doing it another day. That's all I know, really.

"Oh, yeah, Kris," I laughed. "Because I have a map of the world programmed in my head."

"You might, who know."

I reached for the knob to turn the volume of the radio down a bit, but instead I accidently spun the one that turned up the bass.

"I got it," Kris said, bumping his hand against mine and turning down the volume, and caused my hand get all tingly.

"Thanks," I replied. "I'm going to sleep. Wake me when we get to wherever we're going?" I asked softly.

"Okay," he answered in the same tone.

I shut my eyes and thought about where he could have possibly be taking me and why. I didn't know of many guys, if any, that took their girlfriend on an unexpected trip and didn't offer any explanation. What the hell was at least two-hundred miles away anyway? It didn't matter to me, though. We could end up in some small, shitty town, and I'd still be perfectly happy knowing that Kris was there with me. He went out of his way to do things for me, and I just.. I loved him for that. I rested my head against the cool window and focussed on trying to pass the time by sleeping, even though I should have stayed up and kept Kris some company. He planned all of this for us, and there I was.. not paying attention to him and falling asleep. I reached my left hand out to him, and he intertwined our fingers and placed his lips on my skin before bringing both of our hands down to the center console. I felt a little less guilty and finally started to drift off.

- Kris -

I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. This was taking a lot longer than I wanted it to, and it was not helping that Shane was sleeping. But if she was tired, then why not let her sleep? I get to spend time with her when we get there.

I guess today seem like the perfect day to do it because I did not have practice or a game tomorrow. It could just be me and Shane, nobody else. I felt a smile come to my face as I thought of the two of us alone. It took everything I had in me not to have my way with her. I did not want this relationship to be about what I wanted; it has to be about what Shane want, too.

I did not think that driving out to New Jersey would be this boring without somebody to talk to for the majority of the ride, but it was. It seem like only a minute would pass every time I look at the clock, and the scenery outside the window would never change when I would glance to my left. But the boredom was all worth it in the end. Hell, I would drive to the other side of the county and back for Shane if I had to, no question asked. I love her.

I let out another sigh and tapped the steering wheel with my thumb so it matched the song on the radio while I let my mind wonder some more. I thought about the season and the upcoming game, my family--which led me to think of Luc and caused a few tear to fall down my cheek--Shane, and life in general.

When we got close enough to where we were going, and I spotted a liquor store, I pull into the parking lot. No, I was not going to buy as much booze as I could carry--neither us really like alcohol, anyway. I put my truck into park then check to see if Shane was still asleep. She was. I reached behind her seat and grab a Penguins hoodie and threw it over my head then stuck my hat on. I walked inside and found the cheapest, clear bottle of wine I could and paid for it. I made my way back to the truck and got in, checking to see if I didn't wake her up as I did so, then put the car in drive and pulled out back onto the highway. Almost there, a few more mile.

A grand total of three-hundred seventy-two mile and four hour and sixteen minute later, we were finally there.

"Shane..," I whisper, lightly tapping her shoulder. Nothing. "Shane..," I try again. Still nothing. I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned over to her. I got close enough to her so I could kiss her lightly on the cheek. "We are 'ere," I whisper in her ear. I watched her start to stir, and I pull away.

"Where are we?" she asked quietly, raking her finger through hair.

""ave a look for yourself," I told her as I move my eye toward the windshield.

She sat up straight and squinted her eye to see the wave crashing into the sand through the moonlight. "The beach? In the middle of January?" she question, turning to look at me. I nodded. "Why are we here?"

I smiled over to her as I reach behind her seat and grab a pen, a notebook, and the empty wine bottle. I tossed the pen and piece of paper to her, and she just look at me, not putting two and two together.

"You remember that day when we were at the zoo.. And you told me some of the stuff you wanted to do before you die?" She gave her head a nod, a smile starting to appear on her lip. "Well, one of the t'ing you wanted to do was send a message in a bottle. So, I figure why not do it now when I 'ave a day or two off to be with you."

"I love you, Kristopher, you know that?" she said then reached over and cupped my face in her hand and kissed my lips. She rarely ever called me by my full name, only sometime, when she told me she loved me. I guess most guy did not pick that kind of stuff up, but I did, and I like it when she did. It let me know that she meant it, and she was not saying it for the hell of it.

"Je t'aime aussi, Shane," I whisper.

"For once, I actually understood you," Shane said, laughing to herself and sliding out of the truck, taking the pen and paper with her.

"Where are you going?" I ask, getting out of the truck myself.

"The shore so we can write," she told me as she reached for my hand.

"I 'ave a better idea." She raised her eyebrow. "Why don't I drive the truck onto the beach, and we will lay in the back?"

"You're a genius," she smiled.

We got back in the truck in, and I started it back up then drove onto the beach and stop at the shore so the back was facing the water. I grabbed some blanket from the back, and Shane grab her pillow, then we both climb into the bed of the truck.

"What should we write about?" she asked.

"I don't know. Anyt'ing we want to write about?" I suggested, opening my arm up so she could lay on my chest.

We sat under the moon for at least an hour. Shane scribbled down word that turn into sentence, while I tangled my finger in her hair and look out at the ocean. I wish we could have stayed like that for the rest of our life.

When she finally put the pen down, she gave me the notebook, and I read it, smiling as I did so.

January 11th, 2010

I've wanted to write a message in a bottle for a while, and one boy in particular--the one who has the key to my heart--made it possible. I've often wondered what I would write when I got the chance to do actually do this, and the only thing I can think to write about is this boy, Kristopher Letang. He's got these deep, brown eyes, he's tall, and the way he runs his fingers through his hair and puts his hat back on, it drives me crazy. His smile, as crooked as it as, honestly lights up the room. He's French-Canadian, and when he speaks French, I melt inside. Hell, I melt even when he speaks English and mispronounces words, or when he forgets to add an 's', or when he leaves off the 'h' when it's the first letter in a word. I wouldn't say he's shy, but he's quieter than most. He always says the right thing, and makes those funny little comments that you'll never forget. He treats girls how they should be treated, and he would do anything to see you happy. He's thoughtful, and an all around good person. He plays hockey for the Pittsburgh Penguins, and he has amazing skills. Ever since we met, back on October 8th, 2009, we've spent most of our time together. I was sitting on a swing at the park, and when he sat down next to me, he scared me and I fell off the swing. That was the start of something great. Something else I love about him is the way he plays twenty questions with me. He always knows what question we left off on, and never asks a normal question. Will you ask to see a guy's socks? If you had a turtle, what would you name it? And what do you want to do before you die? One of my answers was to send a message in a bottle. It amazes me that he remembered.. This paper doesn't even have half of the things that make him so perfect, it really doesn't.

I love this boy with everything that I have.
December 3rd, 2009 -

"I.. I don't even know what to say," I whisper to her. She may not be a poet, but she just blew me away. Nobody hasdever said those thing about me. I never knew that I drove her insane when I fixe my hair or because of the way I talk, either. "Je t'aime," I said, leaning down and kissing her head.

"I love you, too," she replied.

I slid the piece of paper and pen out from her hand then started to write. I was not going to write a paragraph about her. This was what she wanted to do, and I did not want to invade and make it ours when it was something that she had alway wanted to do. Instead, I skipped a few space after the date when I ask her to be my girlfriend and wrote down question seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen.

Question #17: What are you afraid to lose the most? Yoda? Jorge, the flamingo?

Question #18: What brand of toothbrush do you use?

Question #19: If you could know the exact day that you were going to die, would you want to know?

I left space between each question then went back to the date and after the little dash, I wrote in Forever.

"'ere," I said and gave her back the pen and paper. She laugh and shook her head, but answer the question anyway. When she was done, she hand it back to me.

You.

I don't know. I have a cool orange Crayola crayon toothbrush.

Absolutely not. It's not that I'm scared, because I know everyone dies eventually, but I think I'd live my life in a rush. I'd want to do everything I've ever dreamed of doing, and I'd probably be so busy making sure I did it all, that life would pass me by. And then all of a sudden, I'd have one more day until my life came to an end.

At the very bottom of the page, she wrote Sent from somewhere in New Jersey in the United States.

I smiled to myself then rip out the paper and roll it up. I gave it to her, and she stuck it in the bottle then put the cork back in it.

"Do you want to toss it?" she ask me.

I shook my head. "This is something you 'ave alway wanted to do, not me."

"Yeah, but you made it possible," Shane said as she tried to stick the bottle in my hand.

"I am not throwing it," I refused.

"Fine," she huff. "But if I throw it and it comes back to the shore, you're going to throw it, understand?"

"Sure."

She crawled out of my grasp and hopped off the truck. Then she walked as far as she could without getting her feet wet, kissed the bottle, then sent it flying into the water.