The Right Kind of Wrong

Lying sprawled out over her bed, her leg hanging off the side of it and a hand resting on her flat stomach, Emily was staring into the ceiling, her thoughts all over the place. Arriving in Grand Forks some weeks earlier, she’d been pretty sure that her senior year would be a rather dull affair, maybe a few parties at the most…

She’d been completely wrong.

Thankfully it was Saturday so she could spend all day in bed, no one would be the wiser, but something in the back of her head was insisting that she’d get up. Part of her – her pride – was feeling a bit bruised after her inability to watch a simple hockey game, a game that didn’t even mean much at that.

Not to mention everything else that had taken place the previous evening/the same morning…

Shaking her head she sat up and glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, she nibbled on her lower lip slightly before swinging both her legs over the side and climbing out of the bed. Grabbing her phone from the bed and placing it in her jean pocket, she grabbed the same sweatshirt as the day before and slipped it over her head.

Crossing the room she picked up her bag and her keys as she pulled the door opened and disappeared down the corridor, jogging down the stairs and heading out to her car. Getting in behind the wheel, she pulled out in the street and headed across the town.

Parking outside the surprisingly familiar building, she hurried across the large parking lot and entered through one of the large doors. Walking down the halls, she was soon descending the stairs inside the arena and found the same seat as the day before. Sitting down in it, she smiled softly as she recognized the woman next to her.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Kelly smiled as she glanced over, for a moment tearing her eyes away from the game taking place down on the ice.

“Neither was I,” Emily admitted as she looked around the ice, trying to get her bearings as she was a few minutes late. She really hadn’t planning on going to the game considering what had happened the previous evening, but something had told her to go.

Managing to squash her feelings of wanting to leave, Emily got through the whole game and actually had fun while she was at it. UND won over the opponents she had never heard of before with 3-2 and as soon as the final horn sounded, Kelly announced that she was dragging Emily to the victory party kicking and screaming if she had to.

Surrendering, Emily followed Kelly out of the arena, offering to give her a ride as she’d arrived with Chay some hours earlier. Driving across town, they soon arrived at a house, just moments after Bella and Michelle – Gregoire’s girlfriend – got there, unlocking it and letting them inside. Having been a girlfriend of a player on a similar team, Emily knew what was happening as they got there, they were responsible for getting the alcohol out, move away anything that could break and make sure that there were enough plastic cups to last a lifetime.

The party had already started when the boys started trickling in, but it really took off as they all got there, deciding that the win was worth celebrating in style…

A typical red plastic cup in her hand, filled with something she couldn’t really remember what it was but knew it was strong enough; she slowly made her way through the ground floor as things started getting fuzzy around the edges. She wasn't drunk just happily buzzed, but the longer she spent there, with everything she’d seen at the game, it all started to become eerily familiar.

The games, the music, the types of people, even the jokes were familiar and it freaked her out on a whole new level. Being friends with hockey players would bring back memories; she knew that, she knew that it would be familiar. But this was just overdoing it…

Shaking her head as she went, she cursed under her breath as nothing she did seem to make the feelings go away and downed the rest of the drink before making a beeline for the kitchen where most of the alcohol was stored.

Pouring more vodka than soda into the cup she picked it up once again and walked out of the kitchen, trying to find someplace where she could wallow in self-pity for a moment.

Leaning her head back against the bare wall, she closed her eyes for a moment before sipping the too-strong drink and sliding down to the ground, resting her arm across her knees. Squeezing her eyes closed, she couldn’t help but notice how her eyes were growing moist and a small tear escape down her cheek.

That’s where Chris found her some hours later, full on crying and with her head buried in her arms.

“Em…?” he asked, kneeling beside her. “What are you doing over here, all alone?” he questioned.

“Nothing,” she hiccupped as she refused to look at him.

“You're crying,” he pointed out the obvious.

“And my heart is broken, right now I don’t give a shit,” she snapped, just wanting the pain to go away.

Not saying anything, he watched her for a moment before grabbing her hand and pulling her up with him, against her will. “Just bare with me,” he decided, brushing away her tears before making her follow him through the house. “Universal remedy for a broken heart,” he announced, grabbing an all but filled bottle of tequila, eliciting a small smile from her.

Following him through the house, he was after all holding tequila hostage, she soon found herself sitting in the middle of the stairs drinking directly from the bottle as he tried to get her to reveal why she was crying in a corner after a great win. But she kept tight lipped and refused to tell him anything.

“I think you're drunk Emmy,” Chris smiled widely as he looked at the woman sitting right in front of him.

“If I'm drunk then so are you,” Emily agreed, breaking out in a drunken giggle as she tried to reach for the almost empty bottle standing on the step above them.

“Oh no,” he grabbed the bottle from her. “You’ve had enough,” he decided, raising the bottle to his own lips.

“Not nice,” she retorted, frowning as she reached out and smacked him in the arm, not making any sort of damage as he despite his intoxicated state managed to grab her arm.

“Shush,” he told her, able to see her eyes drooping slightly. She might have been tall, but she was still slim and therefore took alcohol differently from himself. “We should get you to bed,” he decided as he left the bottle on a step below them.

“No,” she disagreed stubbornly.

“Yes,” he decided. “You can take my bed.”

“Who knows what slept there,” she slipped as she stood up unsteadily and with his help managed to get up the suddenly very steep stairs.

“You wound me,” he retorted, letting her go only to have her sway dangerously.

“I do…not,” she hiccupped slightly as they reached the upstairs and they continued towards the right door.

“You do,” he disagreed as he placed his hands on her hips and literally walked her into the room on the right, nudging her forwards to the unmade bed from that morning. “Sleep,” he yawned.

Looking at him, knowing that she wasn't as drunk as she usually ended up when she was at parties like the one they were in the middle of, she slowly licked her lips as she tried to understand what her own mind was screaming at her.

“Well, I'm…” he motioned towards the door.

“Stay,” she stated as she reached out and grabbed his large hand, surprisingly easily pulling him down on the bed next to her.

Obviously surprising him, she effectively shut him up before he could question her by pressing her lips against his. Ever since he’d kissed her in the early hours of the morning, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it and with serious Dutch courage inside she had no problem admitting it.

Her hands exploring almost on their own, she was soon pushing his shirt upwards over his chiseled upper body and she really wasn't disappointed as her fingertips brushed over the warm skin, neither was she at all uncomfortable as his hand roamed her own body. Straddling his hips, she pulled away from him and tugged off her t-shirt, flinging it somewhere over her own shoulder before she recaptured his lips.

There was no doubt in her mind where this was heading and she wasn't concerned, at all. Not a single bone in her body wanted to stop, wanted him to stop touching her, and whilst it surprised her, she wouldn’t have it any other way right then…