Boy Next Door

It's been ten months since I left the Staal home. Nothing major really happened, except for the fact that I finally graduated. The guys threw a huge party for me with all my family, friends, and the entire team. It was hilarious seeing a bunch of hockey players trying to play twister.

Other than that, nothing really happened. My relationship with Marc was going incredibly well, besides a few tiny arguments here and there. Lauren moved out of the apartment and into Mike's apartment last week. Nina and Gilroy weren't living together, but they were always with each other. Dubi had even found himself a girlfriend a few months ago. Meanwhile, I was always over at Marc's apartment, but I still kept the other apartment for the closet.

Today, I was freaking out. I had been so busy helping Lauren move out the entire week that I didn't have any time to buy Marc a gift. Today is our one year anniversary. I feel like Marc had been planning for a month for today, and I was scrambling to buy him something last minute.

As I walked around the mall looking in almost every store known to man, I thought I was defeated. I've already been here for two hours with no luck. I can't think of anything that will show Marc how much I love him. I know it sounds so cliche, since he already knows I love him with all my heart, but he has been planning this for so long. I want to show him that I'm as dedicated to our relationship as he is I guess.

"Wow Danielle. You would be the one to walk into a sports store to buy something for your hockey playing boyfriend," I thought to myself as I walked into the store. It was just your basic sports store, supporting the local teams, from pro to high schools, but something about the store attracted me to it. The weirder part of it, I walked straight to the NYU Violets section of the store. I went there for four years, you would think I have enough stuff from the place.

I searched through the racks of stuff, although the voice in my head was telling me I didn't have time for this. Then I found it. A Longola soccer shirt. This put me in a fit of hysterics. The cashier, the only other person in the store, gave me an odd look.

"You... You sell... These here?" I asked through my laughter.

He nodded his head. "Yeah. Why?" he asked skeptically. Now there was another person in the world who thought I was insane.

"That's me," I said, still trying to calm myself down. My stomach hurt from how hard I was laughing.

"Are you serious?" he asked. Now he started laughing, but not nearly as hard as I was.

"I'll take it," I said as he rang me up at the cash register. I was about to pay the man when another thing caught my eye. It was a plain wooden hockey stick. I walked over to it and picked it up.

It was nothing special, just one of those cheap ten dollar hockey sticks. But it was absolutely perfect. You see, I'm a pretty crafty person. I could easily get some paints and make this plain old hockey stick look like a million bucks. Well, I can try.

I purchased the stick and ran over to the craft store to buy some paints and brushes before returning to the apartment complex. I didn't see Marc in his usual parking spot, but not wanting to risk it, I went into my apartment to get ready for the day.

I set my stuff down on the coffee table and went to go grab some old newspaper to cover up my workplace for painting. I finished setting up and then got to work. Of course, I would run into a problem with this. I had no idea what to paint. Should I paint it about hockey stuff, or about our one year anniversary? I really had no idea what Marc would like better. Suddenly, a brilliant idea hit me. I could do it half and half. One side of the stick could be about hockey, and the other half could be about our one-year anniversary. Why am I such a genius?

It took me longer than I had hoped, painting various things like the Stanley Cup and writing names as neatly as I possibly could, but once it was completely finished, I was proud of my work. Usually I said that any artwork I did looked like shit, which was bad since I loved painting and doing various other artsy activities, but this was different. This actually came out exactly as I wanted it to. I grabbed one of the bows that I had purchased and taped it onto the stick. Then I grabbed the purple bag, which I found perfectly appropriate, and placed the shirt in it with some tissue paper. Finally, my gifts were complete. And just in time, too, because once I set them down on the table, there was a knock on my door.

"Happy anniversary, babe," Marc said as soon as I opened the door. He immediately wrapped me in a hug and gave me a quick kiss.

"Happy anniversary," I returned. "So what do you have planned for today Mr. Staal?" I questioned.

"Well, right now I am going to give you your AWESOME gift," he said cockily. He thinks he knows me so well that he is going to get me the absolutely perfect gift. Pshh, we'll see how that goes.
"And then I have a surprise for you," he said coyly.

"Ohhh! Presents!" I squealed like a little child. He laughed at my immaturity, something we both share at times.

"Yes," he chuckled. He went into my kitchen and grabbed something out of one of the cabinets.

"Wait! You hid my gift in my cabinet without me even noticing?" I asked in disbelief. He had an evil smirk on his face as he nodded his head. "Well now I feel like an idiot," I muttered. Had I just opened one cabinet, I would have known exactly what Marc was getting me, but no. I was always across the hall at Marc's so I didn't even think about opening one of my own cabinets. "You never fail to make me feel like the dumb one in this relationship," I added.

"I know," he said evilly. I gave him an evil glare in return and crossed my arms across my chest.

"Will you stop being mad at me if I give you your present?" he asked. I thought about it for a minute before nodding my head in a joking way. I was in no way a materialistic kind of girl. He let out another small chuckle before handing me a horribly wrapped gift.

"Well you were obviously the one who wrapped this," I said quietly.

"Would you just open the damn gift and forget about my horrible wrapping skills? I thought we had accomplished this at Christmas," he complained. I laughed recalling the memory. We celebrated our Christmas (Mike, Lauren, Nina, Matt, Brandon, Marc and I) a week before the 25th. We celebrated at my apartment, since it was the most decorated. Under the tree were a bunch of nicely wrapped gifts done by the girls. Then there were a bunch of horribly wrapped ones, all of which were done by the guys. We never let them hear the end of that.

"Okay Mr. Cranky Pants. Calm your tits. I'll open the present," I said as I tore away the paper, revealing a beautifully decorated scrapbook. One the cover it had both of our names and the day we met. "Is this what I think it is?" I asked.

"If you think it is a scrapbook commemorating all of the special dates we shared together, then yes. It is what you think it is."

I stared at the book in awe. He must have put so much time, thought, and effort into this gift. I sat down on the couch so I could look through it. Marc sat down next to me and looked at the book, too.

On the first page was a copy of the menu from the diner I used to work at (I have a job as a sports photographer for the Rangers now). The obvious meaning behind that was the place where we had met- well, besides the elevator. The next page was a picture of the five of us and our pizza fiasco. Then there was a picture of the restaurant we went to on our first date. There were lots of other things, like us on Halloween at the Staal's, a copy of my hospital bill, and many other little reminders of our relationship.

"I love it Marc. Thank you so much," I gushed as I threw my arms around him. This was the absolute perfect gift. It made me feel so much worse that my gift was last minute. I just hoped he liked it as much as I love the gift he gave me. "And now for your gift," I said as I handed him a long box with a big red bow on it.

"What is it?" he asked me with a quizzical look on his face.

"Well why don't you open it and find out?" I suggested. He looked at the box with an almost scared look. "Oh my gosh! It's not going to kill you or anything!" He stuck his tongue out at me before taking the bow off the box. He opened it and took out the hockey stick.

"Woah," was the only thing he could say once he took a look at it. I wish I had a camera to capture the expression of shock on his face. He ran his fingers over every single detail. He started at the top of the stick where I had painted a gold number 18. Underneath that ran MARC STAAL down the shaft of the stick. If you went a little further it read NEW YORK RANGERS. On the blade of the stick was my best replica of the Stanley Cup. He flipped it over to look at the other side. Our ideas were similar for this. Down the shaft of the stick it said DANIELLE LONGOLA & MARC STAAL ONE YEAR with a little heart after it. One the blade was the day that we had met.

"This is amazing," he said, completely taken back at how detailed everything was.
"But wait! There's more!" I said like I was some infomercial on TV. I handed him the other bag which held the T-shirt in it.

He opened the bag and took out the shirt. I pretty sure the laugh he let out when he saw the name on the back could be heard throughout the entire level. "Where did you find this?" he asked.

"Some sports store at the mall. I saw it and I knew I had to get it for you," I explained.

After we had calmed down, he told me to get ready for the surprise. I had to remind him that it was a surprise and that I didn't know how to dress for it. He let out a nervous chuckle before telling me to put on a bathing suit. I quickly rummage through my closet and put this on. I walked back out and found that Marc must have ran over to his apartment to change, too.

“Ready to go?” he asked me. I nodded my head as I put my small hand in his much larger one. He lead me out into the hallway, into the elevators, and much to my surprise, to the lobby. Know one ever went into the lobby unless you were a guest that couldn’t park in the parking garage. I haven’t been in the lobby for what feels like three years, so being here felt really weird.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he led me outside.

“Just wait,” he instructed as he squeezed my hand. I gave him a smile and a dramatic roll of my eyes.

“But if you don’t tell me, I’m going to die,” I whined. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. I took my arm and shoved it into his side.

“Stop being violent. We’re here,” he told me. I looked around at my surroundings. We were behind the apartment complex in a huge grassy area. Besides a line of trees at the end of the property, there was only grass.

“Marc, what are we doing here?” I asked. Honestly, there was no clue as to what we were doing out here.

“Just wait here,” he instructed as he ran off to the corner of the building. I got bored while I was waiting for him to get back, so I started spinning in circles. “What in the world are you doing?” Marc asked me as he came back into view. He had to buckets, one in each hand.

“Spinning in circles,” I said playfully. He laughed at my childness and handed me one of the buckets. I looked at the contents inside of the bucket, which left me very confused. “Why did you just hand me a bucket full of water balloons?” I asked.

“So I could do this,” he said as he threw a blue balloon right at my stomach. It hit me right in the gut and I fell to the ground. “Oh my gosh! Are you okay?” Marc asked in a panicky voice as he rushed over to me. I nodded my head while in a fit of laughter and he helped me up. As he was pulling me up, I yanked my arm so he fell to the ground. As he was falling, I quickly reached into my bucket and grabbed a yellow balloon out of my bucket and threw it at him. “You’re so evil,” he smirked.

“I know,” I gloated.

This started our full on battle. Water balloons were flying in every direction. The remains of broken rubber lay all over the field. Marc and I were both soaked in water, though we were laughing hysterically. I had red marks all over my body from where I got hit with balloons, but if I could, I would keep this battle going on forever. But, as always, all good things come to an end.

“I’ll go grab some towels,” Marc said through his laughter. I nodded my head, still laughing too hard to be able to speak. He retreated to where he went when he went to go grab the buckets of balloons. I calmed myself down as I waited for Marc to return.

Marc reappeared from behind the corner of the wall within a couple of minutes. He had one towel thrown over his shoulder and another towel neatly folded being carefully balance on his two outstretched arms. I found his way to hold the towel a little peculiar, but I shrugged it off. We can all be a little odd at times.

He handed me the towel and I graciously took it. In the process of him handing me my towel, his fell off his shoulder and he knelt down to pick it up. I unfolded my towel and found a small satin box laying on the towel. I grabbed the box and let the towel fall to the ground. I opened it only to reveal a simple yet elegant ring.

I lost my breath at the sight in front of me. An engagement ring in my hand, Marc knelt on one knee in front of me. The funny thing is, if you asked me what was happening, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you. I didn’t realize that Marc was proposing until he spoke.

“Danielle, I know we’ve only been dating for a year, but it sure as hell feels as if I’ve known you my entire life. And that’s exactly how I need it. I need you in my life. I need you more than I need hockey or my brothers. I would do anything to have you in the rest of my life, even if it meant giving up hockey. So please just do this one thing for me and say yes.”

“I didn’t hear the question,” I said jokingly. Marc had pulled this same thing on me when I had asked him to be my date at Maddie’s wedding.

“Danielle Isabelle Longola, will you marry me?” he asked.

“Of course I will marry you, Marc YouDon’tHaveAMiddleName Staal,” I said enthusiastically.

He stood up and slid the ring onto my finger. I jumped into his arms after it was on, not bothering to admire its beauty, and gave him the most passionate kiss I could muster.